Hippity Hoppiness

The Garden Where the Rabbit Passed

"Hippity-hoppity" is one of those English expressions that has no intention of sounding serious. It vocally mimics the leaping of a small animal across the grass; it can't even stay still while being uttered. The word's roots lie in nineteenth-century British English. But the Easter cheer we associate with it today is largely a product of American popular culture.

The Easter bunny, of course, entered the story much earlier. An ancient symbol of spring, fertility, and the beginning of new life, the bunny transformed from a European figure into a fairytale character hiding eggs, whose tracks children follow in the garden, as traditions spread from Europe to America. Hippity-hoppity , over time, became its echo. Especially in the mid-twentieth century, thanks to children's songs and Easter stories, it became a cheerful cry announcing the bunny's arrival with colorful eggs in hand, even before he was seen.

But when designing Hippity Hoppity, we weren't just thinking about chocolate eggs, pastel colors, and bunny ears popping out of baskets. Behind the sweet, childlike face of Easter lies a more serious table where adults sit for hours. Roasted meats, baked potatoes, spring vegetables, and the aroma of fresh herbs filling every corner of the kitchen… A long lunch that heralds the transition from the heavy meals of winter to the greener feast of spring.

The recipe for this tea was born from the aromas of this table.

Rosemary and black pepper carry the warm, appetizing aura surrounding a dish fresh from the oven. Mint brings the coolness of spring to the plate. Thyme may not belong directly on the traditional Easter table, but with its oregano-like, wild, and sun-warmed character, it is Mama Ram's equivalent of those aromatic herbs. When incorporated into the recipe, it blends the tranquil gardens of the English and American countryside with a touch of Mediterranean hillsides.

The dandelion is one of the most important little details in the story. It's not a flower of a perfectly manicured garden; it appears without invitation. It emerges from the grass, settles in the cracks of the pavement, and announces the arrival of spring without consulting anyone. After a while, it transforms into a white, volatile sphere; children blow on it, making wishes as its seeds scatter into the air. Thus, within Hippity Hoppity, the dandelion becomes connected to both the games of childhood and the uncontrollable vibrancy of the season.

We've brought together all this herbaceous, salty, and slightly wild character on the robust black tea base of Orange Pekoe. Its name is sometimes mistaken for an orange-flavored tea; however, Orange Pekoe is not a flavoring but a historical term used in the classification of black tea leaves. Its role in the blend is not to be showy, but to provide a solid foundation to support the rosemary, mint, thyme, and black pepper. Like a dark spine that prevents the spring garden from collapsing.

Thus, the result was not a charming seasonal tea mimicking Easter sweets. Hippity Hoppity is less about the holiday itself and more about the aromas wafting in through the kitchen door left open on the day of the holiday: food in the oven, crushed black pepper, freshly chopped herbs, and the distant sounds of children searching for something in the garden.

Its name may sound cheerful and bouncing. But Hippity Hoppity is less like a colorful egg left on a child's table and more like a handful of fragrant herbs secretly stolen from an adult's dinner table.

The box features not a rabbit, but a great tit perched on a budding willow branch. With its black head, white cheeks, and yellow-green body, this bird is one of the most familiar little inhabitants of European gardens. It begins to sing in early spring when the buds open; its speckled eggs usually appear in April and May, after the Easter season. The great tit itself cannot be said to be a religious Easter symbol. It is more a small harbinger of spring, knowing the changing seasons without needing a church calendar.

The original ancient Easter symbol is hidden in the willow branch beneath the bird's beak. In Northern and Eastern European countries where palm trees don't grow, early-budding willow branches have replaced palm leaves at Palm Sunday for centuries. The soft, silvery buds that appear before winter has completely receded have become one of the natural symbols of new life and resurrection. Seen in this light, the scene in the box is not merely a charming spring picture: on one side, the ancient willow branch of Easter tradition, and on the other, a small bird announcing the beginning of the new season with its song.

Hippity Hoppity's rabbit is nowhere to be seen on the box. Perhaps it has already disappeared from the frame, hopping to the other end of the garden to hide its eggs. All that remains is a branch twitching where it passed and a titmouse watching curiously from below to see what happened.