Cassia bark. A rolled bark which is often mistaken for cinnamon, but is coarser in both texture and flavour.
A blend of tea which is delicate with a light, golden colour. It can be drunk with or without milk. It is sometimes described as the "champagne of teas" and has a muscat-like aroma and flavour. A friend and I travelled to India in 1978. Before we left England we arranged to stay at the Windamere Hotel in Darjeeling on our arrival in India. We took a circuitous route of some 13,000 miles, travelling through Syria, Jordan and Iraq as well as the countries on the more common overland route to India. We arrived tired and tattered after an eventful journey in which we were, among other things, pursued by an angry mob throwing stones in Iran the day after David Owen made a pro-Shah speech. It seemed as though every country we crossed somehow crumbled as we left it. Tito died as we left "Yugoslavia"; The Shah was driven from Iran as we left (ourselves under some pressure); the Russians were a clear presence in Afghanistan although it would take them another year to "invade" that beautiful country. We were a day late boarding the Siliguri Express and rising up through the foothills of Kanchenjunga towards Darjeeling. We stumbled from the train with our rucksacks and were greeted by a man immaculate in white, with turban, cummerbund and gloves. He relieved us of our dusty luggage and swayed through the crowds with the load. We scampered along behind his graceful progress. At the Windamere Hotel we sank into chintz-covered armchairs in front of a sweet-smelling log fire, and were brought teapots of fragrant Darjeeling tea. We dined on boiled chicken and went to bed to find stone hot water bottles warming the sheets and then rose to a breakfast of porridge, described by James, later Jan, Morris as the best to be found outside Scotland.
