A Nice Cup of Tea
George Orwell's Quest for the Perfect Tea, Science's Objections, and the Enduring Debate
In 1946, George Orwell asked an unusual question: “How should the perfect cup of tea be prepared?”
In his short essay "A Nice Cup of Tea," written shortly after World War II, Orwell argued that brewing tea was not merely a mundane task in the kitchen. For him, tea was a cornerstone of English life and a serious matter requiring proper preparation.
Eighty years later, the debate continues. Perhaps that's precisely what makes tea so interesting.
Should the tea be poured into the cup first, or the milk?
Does sugar spoil the taste of tea?
How much tea should be used in the teapot?
Should tea really be brewed with boiling water?
Orwell had definitive answers to each of these questions.
Below you will find George Orwell's famous essay, published in 1946. We will then examine how scientists have approached Orwell's views and the internationally accepted standards for brewing tea today.
Because it seems the world still hasn't quite agreed on how to prepare the perfect cup of tea.
A Nice Cup of Tea
The following text is the original English version of George Orwell's essay "A Nice Cup of Tea," published in the Evening Standard on January 12, 1946.
If you look up 'tea' in the first cookery book that comes to hand you will probably find that it is unmentioned; or at most you will find a few lines of sketchy instructions which give no rulings on several of the most important points. This is curious, not only because tea is one of the mainstays of civilization in this country, as well as in Eire, Australia and New Zealand, but because the best manner of making it is the subject of violent disputes.
When I look through my own recipe for the perfect cup of tea, I find no fewer than 11 outstanding points. On perhaps two of them there would be a pretty general agreement, but at least four others are acutely controversial. Here are my own 11 rules, every one of which I regard as golden:
• First of all, one should use Indian or Ceylonese tea. China tea has virtues which are not to be despised nowadays—it is economical, and one can drink it without milk—but there is not much stimulation in it. One does not feel wiser, braver or more optimistic after drinking it. Anyone who has used that comforting phrase 'a nice cup of tea' invariably means Indian tea.
• Secondly, tea should be made in small quantities—that is, in a teapot. Tea out of an urn is always tasteless, while army tea, made in a cauldron, tastes of grease and whitewash. The teapot should be made of china or earthenware. Silver or Britanniaware teapots produce inferior tea and enamel pots are worse; though curiously enough a pewter teapot (a rarity nowadays) is not so bad.
• Thirdly, the pot should be warmed beforehand. This is better done by placing it on the hob than by the usual method of swilling it out with hot water.
• Fourthly, the tea should be strong. For a pot holding a quart, if you are going to fill it nearly to the brim, six heaped teaspoons would be about right. In a time of rationing, this is not an idea that can be realized on every day of the week, but I maintain that one strong cup of tea is better than twenty weak ones. All true tea lovers not only like their tea strong, but like it a little stronger with each year that passes—a fact which is recognized in the extra ration issued to old-age pensioners.
• Fifthly, the tea should be put straight into the pot. No strainers, muslin bags or other devices to imprison the tea. In some countries teapots are fitted with little dangling baskets under the spout to catch the stray leaves, which are supposed to be harmful. Actually one can swallow tea-leaves in considerable quantities without ill effect, and if the tea is not loose in the pot it never infuses properly.
• Sixthly, one should take the teapot to the kettle and not the other way about. The water should be actually boiling at the moment of impact, which means that one should keep it on the flame while one pours. Some people add that one should only use water that has been freshly brought to the boil, but I have never noticed that it makes any difference.
• Seventhly, after making the tea, one should stir it, or better, give the pot a good shake, afterwards allowing the leaves to settle.
• Eighthly, one should drink out of a good breakfast cup—that is, the cylindrical type of cup, not the flat, shallow type. The breakfast cup holds more, and with the other kind one's tea is always half cold—before one has well started on it.
• Ninthly, one should pour the cream off the milk before using it for tea. Milk that is too creamy always gives tea a sickly taste.
• Tenthly, one should pour tea into the cup first. This is one of the most controversial points of all; Indeed in every family in Britain there are probably two schools of thought on the subject. The milk-first school can bring forward some fairly strong arguments, but I maintain that my own argument is unanswerable. This is that, by putting the tea in first and stirring as one pours, one can exactly regulate the amount of milk whereas one is liable to put in too much milk if one does it the other way round.
• Lastly, tea—unless one is drinking it in the Russian style—should be drunk without sugar. I know very well that I am in a minority here. But still, how can you call yourself a true tea-lover if you destroy the flavor of your tea by putting sugar in it? It would be equally reasonable to put in pepper or salt. Tea is meant to be bitter, just as beer is meant to be bitter. If you sweeten it, you are no longer tasting the tea, you are merely tasting the sugar; you could make a very similar drink by dissolving sugar in plain hot water.
Some people would answer that they don't like tea in itself, that they only drink it in order to be warmed and stimulated, and they need sugar to take the taste away. To those misguided people I would say: Try drinking tea without sugar for, say, a fortnight and it is very unlikely that you will ever want to ruin your tea by sweetening it again.
These are not the only controversial points to arise in connection with tea drinking, but they are sufficient to show how subtilized the whole business has become.
There is also the mysterious social etiquette surrounding the teapot (why is it considered vulgar to drink out of your saucer, for instance?) and much might be written about the subsidiary uses of tealeaves, such as telling fortunes, predicting the arrival of visitors, feeding rabbits, healing burns and sweeping the carpet.
It is worth paying attention to such details as warming the pot and using water that is really boiling, so as to make quite sure of wringing out of one's ration the 20 good, strong cups that two ounces, properly handled, ought to represent.
Evening Standard, 12 January 1946 — George Orwell
Does Science Agree with Orwell?
Orwell's 11 rules continued to be debated among tea lovers for many years. In 2003, the Royal Society of Chemistry (RSC), a respected scientific institution in the United Kingdom, decided to examine these rules from a scientific perspective.
The task was given to Dr. Andrew Stapley, a chemical engineer from Loughborough University. The results were likely to surprise Orwell's fans.
Points where Orwell was right
Dr. Stapley's assessment supported some of Orwell's preferences. Scientists, in particular, supported certain aspects of his interest in potent Indian teas.
Assam is one of the most typical modern-day representatives of the strong Indian teas advocated by Orwell. Its full-bodied structure, distinct malt notes, and harmony with milk make it a staple of British breakfast teas today. While it's not scientifically possible to say that Assam is superior to other teas, it remains one of the most popular choices for those seeking a strong brew.
Furthermore, Orwell's view that tea should be brewed strong enough is not an entirely unfamiliar idea in modern tea culture. Especially in black teas consumed with milk, a certain intensity helps maintain the balance of flavors.
Where Science Differs from Orwell's Ideas
However, on some points, scientists don't quite agree with Orwell.
For example, Orwell suggested using six full teaspoons of tea leaves for a pot of tea. This amount, quite generous even during the famine years of post-war Britain, is considered excessively strong by today's standards. According to the Royal Society of Chemistry, much more modest measures are sufficient in most cases.
Another point of contention is the milk. According to Orwell, milk should be added after the tea has been poured into the cup. However, scientists argue the opposite.
According to RSC, adding cold milk to hot tea afterward can cause milk proteins to be exposed to sudden temperature changes. This can lead to the formation of undesirable flavors, which some experts describe as "cooked milk." If milk is added to the cup first, the hot tea heats the milk more gradually, reducing this effect.
Therefore, the RSC's preference is clear: milk first, then tea. At least, this is the scientific response to the debate that has been going on in England for over a century.
What about sugar?
One of Orwell's most definitive pronouncements concerned sugar. According to him, a true tea lover should drink their tea unsweetened; in fact, he believed that adding sugar destroyed the true character of the tea.
Scientists, however, are more moderate on this issue. They point out that sugar softens the natural bitterness and tannic structure of tea, thus creating a more balanced drinking experience for some consumers. Of course, at this point, personal taste takes precedence over science.
Conclusion: Neither science nor taste could end the debate.
The Royal Society of Chemistry's assessment reveals an interesting fact: there is no single recipe for the perfect tea.
While some aspects, such as water temperature, brewing time, and the amount of leaves used, can be scientifically measured, how tea is consumed is largely a matter of personal preference.
Perhaps this is precisely why Orwell is still read today. Because A Nice Cup of Tea is not just a brewing guide; it is a timeless cultural text that shows just how passionate people can be, even about a cup of tea.
Is it possible to standardize tea? ISO 3103
George Orwell's tea rules were based on personal opinions. The Royal Society of Chemistry, on the other hand, attempted to approach the subject from a scientific perspective. But is there an official tea brewing standard that everyone in the world agrees on?
Surprisingly, yes. Moreover, this standard was prepared by the International Organization for Standardization (ISO). Its name is quite technical: ISO 3103 – Tea: Preparation of liquor for use in sensory tests.
At first glance, it sounds complicated; however, the purpose is quite simple. When tea producers, laboratories, and quality control experts in different parts of the world want to evaluate the same tea, everyone needs to use the same method. Otherwise, tea that one laboratory finds "excellent" might be considered ordinary by another. ISO 3103 was developed to solve this problem.
What does ISO 3103 recommend?
• The tea leaves are weighed precisely.
• A specific volume of freshly boiled water is used.
• The brewing time is exactly 6 minutes.
• The tea is strained after brewing.
• Tasting is conducted under controlled conditions.
ISO 3103 defines not only the brewing time but also the amount of tea and water used. The standard method uses approximately 2 grams of tea for every 100 milliliters of water. This aims to ensure that evaluations carried out in different laboratories are as consistent as possible.
This method is not designed for making the most delicious tea at home, but for comparing different teas. In other words, ISO 3103 is not a "tea enjoyment standard," but a "tea evaluation standard."
Why Six Minutes?
For many modern tea lovers, six minutes might seem like quite a long time. Indeed, in everyday life, many black teas brew in 3-5 minutes, and many green teas even faster.
However, the aim of ISO is not to achieve optimum flavor. The goal is to ensure that the aromatic and phenolic components within the leaf are as consistent as possible. This way, the same tea yields similar results in different laboratories around the world.
AN INTERESTING NOTE The British standard BS 6008, on which ISO 3103 is based, won the Ig Nobel Prize in Literature in 1999. The reason was that it was an official standard describing in extraordinary detail how to prepare a cup of tea. |
Do tea experts use this standard?
They do use it. In international tea trade, auctions, quality assessments, and production controls, ISO 3103 or very similar methods are still widely applied.
However, many professional tasters also make minor adjustments based on their own experience. This is because the world of tea, just like the world of coffee, is an area that is not easily standardized. The region where it is grown, the harvest season, the processing method, and even the weather conditions in the same garden can all change the result in the cup.
Orwell, Science and Standards
Interestingly, some of the ideas Orwell advocated in 1946 are still supported by many tea lovers today. Scientists, however, disagree with him on certain points. The ISO standard, on the other hand, approaches the subject from a completely different angle, striving to obtain repeatable results independent of personal preferences.
However, all these different approaches have one thing in common: tea is a far more complex beverage than it appears from the outside. A cup of tea contains not only water and leaves; it also embodies culture, habit, chemistry, history, and personal taste.
Perhaps that is why the debate that George Orwell started almost eighty years ago is still ongoing today.
Mama Ram Note
George Orwell's rules, the assessments of scientists, and international standards all show us the same thing: when it comes to tea, there is no single truth that everyone agrees on.
Let me make a small confession at this point.
If Orwell were to walk through our door today, he probably wouldn't get along with some of our shelves. In the opening lines of his essay, he dismisses Chinese tea as "not very stimulating," saying that drinking it doesn't make one feel smarter, braver, or more optimistic. Yet, on our shelves, we have Uji Matcha, Fuding Silver Needle, and Chiayi Milk Oolong. He would most likely find the Matcha too mild, the white teas not "stimulating" enough, and the delicate oolong unnecessarily elegant.
So, we had serious disagreements with Orwell on a few points.
But in the same essay, there is one point where he stands exactly on our side. Orwell was against tea bags, strainers, and any device that traps the leaves. For him, the leaves should spread freely in the teapot, and the tea and water should meet directly. This respect for loose leaf tea and his insistence that tea should be taken seriously is something we have been advocating for years.
Thankfully, the world of tea has grown considerably since Orwell's time. Today, the real question isn't which tea is better, but which tea appeals to you most.
Some people like their tea strong and bitter, others prefer it lighter and milder. Some add milk, others sugar. And some simply want to hear the story of the leaves and the water.
At Mama Ram, we believe that's partly why tea is special. Tea isn't a product to be consumed quickly; it's an experience with its own rhythm. And the best cup is often found not in recipe books, but in small experiments in the kitchen.
Try different teas. Experiment with different water temperatures. Vary brewing times. Rediscover the same tea on different days, in different moods. Give yourself some time and listen to what the tea in your cup is telling you.
Perhaps you'll end up agreeing with George Orwell. Or perhaps you'll arrive at a completely different conclusion. Either way, the important thing is that it's the right cup for you.
Because the perfect tea is often not found in a standard or a rule book; it lies in the taste, curiosity, and time dedicated to the drinker.
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