Leaf + Herb + Fruit: How to Make Your Own Tea

It became clear when we came back to Sapanca with a bus full of our guests. Only a week away in Istanbul drew a very evident line between the balmy summer nights and the autumnal nocturnal chill. Change that makes me very melancholic every year. As we arrived I put on a hoodie and (much to the satisfaction of my mother-in-law) socks and went ahead serving freshly brewed tea to our guests and family who have immediately filled our restaurant terrace with their sighs of amusement, clicks of cameras and comments on how lucky we are to live in a place blessed with divine serenity and magnificent view. All of a sudden our mundane life turned magic.

Everything looked enticing. The way we brew Turkish tea in a double tea pot, our tap water coming from the mountain springs, anne’s mucver (zucchini fritters), home-like coziness of the restaurant and hotel, peaceful air and commanding views over the Sapanca lake. Family quarrels, rush of serving quests and never ending tasks of looking after the place - all became secondary. I stopped believing they existed at all. Could they possible occur at such a heavenly place?

Photo courtesy Polina Isichenko

That wedding weekend of ours was full of moving around, coordination, answering questions and attending to our guests. Physically exhausted I still lived great emotional highs those days. Besides the pleasure of being around people who have traveled miles to see me I have got external validation of my lifestyle and of the shift I had made to have it, boosted motivation to be here to create, improve and grow.

Pulling the sleeves of my hoodie down I am thinking about the coming winter. If we are as lucky as last year we will have snow blocking the roads, electricity cuts, ultra-simple meals cooked on a gas burner, wearing 3 layers of clothes to stay warm while indoors and lots of ironing. But you know, it all looks wonderful right now because our life here all of a sudden turned into a fairytale hazy from the smoke of our stone oven coming out a huge chimney which is also a rather fairytale thing.

I think I should incentivize my friends to visit us more often. Our wedding was an easy legitimate way to gather them all up. I don’t know yet what other ways I can create. I want to be reminded now and then how privileged we are, to treat people who are important for me to the things I am proud of and to share the things I love with them. Like my tea I put together as I ran through the garden and pick up the ingredients. Connecting with the land I live on and the people I make this tea for.

I pick a few mint branches growing next to the bed of parsley and grasp through the thicket of nettle and branching vine to collect some wild thyme and melissa growing together. I then head towards the more organized part of the garden to the bushes of red current and blackberry as I need a few leaves from each. And on the way I am looking out for any fallen apples and pears - I am going to slice them thinly for the slight fruity note. At the kitchen I soak the herbs in cold water for a few minutes, rinse them thoroughly and then put in a large porcelain tea pot along with the fruit slices. I throw in some dry nettle to give more substantiality to the tea. Then I pour boiling water and wrap the pot into a kitchen towel and leave for 10 minutes or so to get brewed.

I composed this tea first time mid-summer after picking anything I like and have been making it a few times a week ever since. Much to the enjoyment of the women of the family and guests to whom I offer the tea. And this is one thing that strikes me: a Turkish woman never says no to a herbal tea! Besides a great marketing potential I see that as a sign of acceptance. People may say things about my not-so-Turkish take on everyday cooking but at least they accept my tea.

Morning after the wedding my friends and family were sharing a huge brunch put together by anne. To conclude the meal I offered my herbal tea. I went to pick up the ingredients. With all my enthusiasm about this tea I am rather humble about it. When you make something with certain regularity it loses its “big thing” feel. It is a great tea but after all it is made of such basic ingredients I have always seen in my grandma’s garden and Russian and now here in our garden in Sapanca. My granddad and then recently my father have been mixing leaves, herbs and fruits rather liberally to produce fantastic natural teas. So for me this tea is a no-brainer. Just like for any Russian.

Just a month ago I was visiting my friends back in Moscow it was my turn to be enticed by the life of others. Not at least by the Russian love for make-your-own teas. My friend Julia had a bowl of dry herbs from our home town: every time when brewing a pot of tea she would fetch a few herbs and throw them in. My other friend Svetlana has got a miniature plot in her garden where she grows all sorts of things she puts into the tea. During the 3 days we stayed with her she never repeated herself always creating new combinations of fresh herbs, leaves and flowers from her garden. Back to Turkey I started throwing some leaves and herbs into our pot of compulsory morning Turkish tea - very much to the surprise and then satisfaction of my family.

Before treating my girlfriends to the tea I showed them the ingredients I was going to use. They were intrigued. What are those leaves? Are you putting a pear inside? How are you going to make the tea? 10 minutes later I served the tea - to my girlfriends, women of my both families and our other guests. And my humble tea stroke more curiosity. What did you put inside again? Mixed herbs, what exactly? Is there a thyme? Is it good for you? In what way? And then there was a second cup, more tea chat and more external validation that I do live in an exceptional place and do rather wonderful things. So how to get my friends visit me here more often?