Steeped in Tradition

In true Orthodox fashion, not a la German.

Not weak like water, or a children’s drink

But rich in Russian flavors, full of aroma and strength

- poet Pyotr Vyazemsky

In 1638 Tsar Mikhail Fyodorovich ordered his boyars to taste a “foreign herb” sent to him as a gift by Khan Altyn. Three hours later, the boyars returned with the following report: ”We tried everything. The herb is solid, hard to chew and bitter tasting.”

Mikhail Fedorovich’s immediate reaction was to take offense at Altyn Khan, who had dared to give the tsar such a worthless, bitter herb. But he relented when the khan’s emmisary informed him that this herb had to be steeped in hot water. After he drank the tea, Tsar Mikhail found words to praise the “bitter herb.”

Thick volumes have been written about the healing and rejuvenatory properties of tea. Tea with red wine (and fresh jam on the side) helps ease symptoms of the common cold; applying a handkerchief soaked in tea to your eye can help sure a stye; strong black tea with dry brown bread is the classic people’s antidote against diarrhea.

Still, this love affair with tea is some three centuries old in Russia. Between the time of Tsar Mikhail and the mid-1800s, tea consumption in Russia was hampered by the long trade route between western Russia and China, which made tea an expensive taste.

This changed when transportation and trade improved, such that by the turn of the century Russia ranked second in the world for tea consumption. Between 1901 and 1910, tea imports averaged 69,555 tons per year. By 1913 (often cited in Russia as the “exemplary” year for many economic indices), tea imports totaled 75,807 tons.

In 1917, revolution, economic isolation and civil war caused tea imports to plummet by nearly half--to 52,301 tons. But Russians were so “addicted” to their tea habits that the Bolshevik government had to do something. In 1918, the Sovnarkom signed the Decree On Tea, establishing rules for tea distribution and pricing. A governmental body, Tsentrotchai, was created and charged with tea procurement and distribution. Needless to say, imports of tea (as with most other items) collapsed: in 1918, 9,640 tons were imported, in 1919, the figure fell to 13 tons, slowly climbing to 924 tons by 1924. With the arrival of NEP in 1928, some 15,946 tons of tea were imported. By 1940, tea was being grown in Soviet Georgia and southern Russia, which, combined with imports, pushed total packaged tea in Russia to 24,545 tones, or about one-third of their pre-War levels.

Imports again fell during WWII, but domestic output provided a “survival level” of tea for the Soviet Army and the war-stressed population. Since then, tea has been a part of Russians’ special hoard of food products, set aside for the worst of times (known by the Russian acronym “NZ”, for “untouchable stock”).

At war’s end, domestic tea production and imports totaled 17,432 tons, rising slowly in the post-war era to 57,973 in 1958 and 79,000 tons in 1986 (just surpassing 1913 levels).

By the mid-1990s, imports began to rise once again, this time organized by private entrepreneurs rather than the state. Igor Lisinenko founded Maysky Chai (“May Tea”) and quickly became the world’s largest importer of tea from Sri Lanka. “Such a product like tea is loved in our country,” Lisinenko said in a 1998 interview. “And Russians will always buy it, even in hard times.”

Indeed, tea is firm rooted in Russians’ hearts. In an opinion poll conducted in 2001 by Russian Food Market magazine, half of the respondents named tea it as their favorite non-alcoholic beverage (only 31% named coffee). A recent review of the Russian tea market by Dengi magazine revealed that half of Russians drink at least five cups of tea a day.

Today, supply has been allowed to meet demand. Per capita annual consumption of tea in Russia is estimated at 1.1 kilograms, putting Russia in second place worldwide, behind Great Britain, where the figure is 4.1 kg per capita. But, according to Vitrina magazine, consumption in Moscow and St. Petersburg is considerably higher--about 2.5 kg.

In 1998, according to the State Customs Committee, Russia imported 148,800 tons of tea, and may have risen to around 160,000 tons in the last two to three years. Said Alexander Voronov, head of the information center at Maysky Chai: “This figure has stabilized and didn’t change even during the 1998 crisis, when Russians relinquished many of the products they came to like. But not tea.”

The main source of tea drunk in Russia, according to Russian Tea and Coffee Association, is India, which supplies about 87,000-89,000 tons (Russia is the world’s largest importer of tea from India), while Sri Lanka exports some 33,000-35,000 tons with other countries--Georgia, Indonesia, China, Kenya and Turkey making up the balance.

Some 60% of the market is controlled by three importers: Maysky Chai, Unilever, Grand and Orim Trade. Another 20 companies (like the Russian firm Nikitin) cover another 20%, with about 200 smaller firms, including producers of exclusive brands, supplying the remainder. In a 1999 poll by the Komkon group, the preponderance (36.6%) of respondents named Maysky Chai as their favorite brand, followed by Brooke Bond (29.8%), and the resurrected Soviet brand “Indian Tea with an Elephant” (27.99%).

“Everybody drinks tea in Russia but few know how to drink it right,” said Maysky Chai’s Voronov, whose center tries to teach the “right” way to prepare the beverage. For one, Voronov said, water should be taken off the heat as soon as the first boiling bubbles appear. Waiting longer makes the water hard and impacts negatively on flavor. This is a difficult condition when one is using an electric kettle, one interjects. To which Voronov replies: ”And who says an electric kettle is a good thing for tea?!”

Of course, the most authentic way to make Russian tea is to boil water in a samovar heated from its inner tube by burning coals, or, better yet, by burning pine cones (which adds an exquisite aroma to the smoke). “Russia without samovars,” said Pyotr Stolypin, prime minister under Tsar Nicholas II, “is not Russia.”

The samovar (the name means “self-boiler”) is thought to have been “invented” in 1746. It may have been partially derived from similar devices used by the Mongols. But others argue that it is a hybrid, combining the old Russian sbitenik (a teakettle like device that had to be lifted and poured) and the Dutch bouilliotte, which had a spout like a modern samovar, and examples of which were brought back from Holland by Peter the Great. Samovars quickly gained huge popularity, particularly in bone-chilling St. Petersburg, where it became necessary to keep a hot pot of tea on all day long. Today, samovars are not the central home appliances they once were in Russian homes. They are more likely to be found at the dacha, where there is more time and patience for preparing the beloved beverage in the traditional manner.

If forging samovars became an art form over the centuries (see Russian Life, August 1996), two hundred and fifty years of tea has also had an impact on other areas of the arts. Famous Russian artists such as Boris Kustodiev and Vasili Perov have made tea drinking subjects in their paintings. The works of Gogol, Pushkin, Tolstoy and others are littered with poignant and romantic scenes around tea drinking.

Of course, one may wonder how wise it is to have tea at night, especially in such “Burlakovian” quantities, given the caffeine level in tea. But then decaffeinated tea has about as much of a market in Russia as non-alcoholic vodka. After all, if the French can have their requisite nightcap of cafe noir, why not Russians their chyorny chai?

In fact, tea has always been consumed in huge quantities here. In the 19th century, Russian kuptsy (merchants) in traktirs (public houses) would pat their generous guts and order up tea “Ò ÔÓÎÓÚÂ̈ÂÏ” (s polotentsem -- with a towel). Why with a towel? Why to hang about their necks so that they could wipe away the sweat when gulping down hot tea by the glass.

Of course, no discussion of Russian tea rituals is complete without a mention of the distinctive tradition of drinking tea from a glass set into a metal ÔÓ‰Òڇ͇ÌÌËÍ (glass holder). Film director Nikita Mikhalkov once recalled how he taught Italian actor Marcello Mastroianni how to drink tea the Russian way when Mastroianni was starring in Mikhalkov’s movie Ochi Chyorniye (Black Eyes). Russian men sip their steaming tea from a tall glass placed in a podstakannik, and the teaspoon is never removed from the glass. Instead, you curl your finger through the handle of the podstakannik and your thumb pressed the teaspoon against the glass.

There is really no explaining this tradition, dangerous as it may seem to the tea drinker’s eye. Which, according to the popular Russian joke, makes this an ideal way to ferret out a Russian spy. Just offer the suspected spy a mug or cup of hot tea. Sure enough, a well-trained Russian spy will remember to remove the teaspoon before drinking, like a good foreigner. Yet he is sure to give himself away by closing his eye when he takes a sip.

Maysky Chai company contributed information for this article, and some statistics were derived from the Russian magazine Tea & Coffee.

* The group’s name ó‡ÈÙ is a mixture of ͇ÈÙ and ˜ËÙË¸, evoking their debut years when they were drinking strong tea (˜ËÙË¸) during rehearsals taking pleasure (͇ÈÙ) in the process.

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In Russia, a custom startling to strangers is that men drink tea in glasses and women in china cups. Here is the legend behind this custom. It seems that teacups were first made in Kronstadt, and the bottom was decorated with a view of that city. When a teahouse proprietor stinted on the tea, this picture could be seen clearly, and the customer would say to him, “I can see Kronstadt.” Since the proprietor could not deny this, he was caught in flagrante delicto. It became customary, then, for tea to be served in teahouses in glasses, at the bottom of which there was nothing to see, let alone Kronstadt!

Alexander Dumas, Dictionary of Cuisine

He was silent, thinking; and then, waving his hand, he said gently: "This Russia of ours is such an absurd, clumsy country."

A shadow of sadness crossed his beautiful eyes; little rays of wrinkles surrounded them and made them look still more meditative. Then, looking round, he said jestingly: "You see, I have fired off at you a complete leading article from a radical paper. Come, I'll give you tea to reward your patience."

Maxim Gorky, "Anton Chekhov: Fragments of Recollections"

The old man stood nonplussed, and unable to comprehend his guest's unexpected exclamation. At last he turned and slowly went into the house. Sitting down to his breakfast, he fell into a long reverie about the present tendency of thought, about the universal wickedness of the present generation, about the telegraph and the telephone and bicycles, and about how unnecessary it all was. But he grew calmer little by little as he slowly ate his meal. He drank five glasses of tea, and lay down to take a nap.

Anton Chekhov, The Pecheneg

Arriving there, Ivan Mironov called for vodka and tea for which he paid eight kopeks. Comfortable and warm after the tea, he chatted in the very best of spirits with a yard-porter who was sitting at his table. Soon he grew communicative and told his companion all about the conditions of his life.

Leo Tolstoy, The Forged Coupon

Ecstasy is a glass full of tea and a piece of sugar in the mouth.

Alexander Pushkin

He strongly insisted that Velchaninov Gulp down two or three cups of light tea. With asking Velchaninov's permission he ran to awaken Maura and helped her to build a fire in the long neglected kitchen and goil some water in the samovar. Twenty minutes later the tea was ready.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Eternal Husband

The use of tea is so widespread in Russia that, at a single cafe-restaurant in Moscow. Thirty three pounds of tea is consumed on an average day, which makes nine hundred and ninety pounds per month and eleven thousand eight hundred and eighty pounds per year!

Jacques Boucher de Perthes, Travels in Russia (1859)

SOME INTERESTING FACTS:

In Russia tea was first used as a beverage in 1638 when the Mongol Altyn Khan sent Tsar Mikhail Fedorovich a gift of four poods of tea leaves. In 1689 an agreement was concluded with China for regular deliveries of tea to Russia. In the 18th century tea imports increased, and the popularity of the beverage rose.

The botanist N.A Gartvis planted the first tea shrub in Russia 1814 in the Nikita Botanical Garden, but the natural conditions of the Crimea provided unfavorable for growing tea. In 1847 tea cuttings acclimatized well at the Ozurgety Experiment Station (now the city of Makharadze) in Georgia. At the All-Russian Exposition of 1864, M. Erstavi demonstrated Georgian tea prepared from leaves gathered from a small tract in Gora-Berezhauli in Ozurgety District.

In 1885, A.A. Solovtsev founded Russia's first commercial tea plantation in Chakva (Adzharia). The plant has been cultivated in what is now Krasnodar Krai since 1901 and in Azerbaijan since 1912. In 1913 the area of tea planting in Russia was less than 900 ha and the gross yield of leaves was 550 tons. After the October Revolution of 1917 tea cultivation developed rapidly. New plantations were established in Georgia, Azerbaijan and Krasnodar Krai. In 1975, Georgia accounted for up to 95% of the total tea leaf harvest in USSR.