As many Brits and Anglophiles around the world are aware, Russell T Davies is returning for Doctor Who’s 60th anniversary, sparking endless thought pieces of fans’ favorite Doctors, writers, companions, seasons, and whatever else. You name it, there’s probably a recent Doctor Who think piece on it. As an American Anglophile nerd, I’m sure I could write an article in the same vein, dividing our niche fandom into smaller favoritism communities, but frankly I don’t want to write that article. I want to write about the TARDIS’s canonical favorite drink, the cuppa. 

The cuppa, or “cup of tea” as it is known in the states, is foundational to the UK’s identity, both around the world and internally. A Londoner’s choice of tea, for example, can be an insight into their social class. The “builder’s tea,” the strong black tea often preferred by the working class, contrasts sharply with the subtle notes of the posh white-collar Earl Grey. I’m oversimplifying a bit, sure, but the point is that I’m a working class hero despite having worked from home for the past year and a half, and I’ve spent my time working on the perfect cup of builder’s tea right here in the states. I’d like to share it with you, even though I’m sure that these opinions may be even more divisive than claiming Peter Capaldi as my favorite Doctor. 

Let’s start with the least controversial-seeming ingredient in the tea: the water. A lot of people, even me in my early tea days, wouldn’t give this ingredient a second thought and simply fill the kettle at the sink, but I’ve read literal pages of information about this step of tea-making and have realized these people are making a grave mistake. You’ve heard the statistic that we spend a third of our lives in bed, making a bed one of our most important purchases? Well check this one out: a cup of tea is 99% water. If you’re not at least filtering that water, you’re doing yourself a disservice. Don’t think it will make a difference? Try it and find out. 

A quick note on American tea kettles: they’re outdated. A stovetop kettle will make a cup of tea fine, but it’s the tea equivalent of using a rotary phone instead of a mobile. Electric kettles are fast, versatile, often beautiful, and most important, cheap. The extra three minutes you’re waiting for that tea to boil is eating your life away, and that’s not even getting into temperature settings for different types of tea. Catch up with the world and get an electric kettle. 

Speaking of American products that aren’t conducive to proper tea-making, a coffee mug is not a teacup, and bigger isn’t always better. You can use a coffee mug for your tea, I’m certainly not above doing so myself, but you have to bear in mind that the amount of water that a nice strong cup of tea requires is going to look very paltry and disappointing in that giant mug. I’m not advocating for teacups and saucers in every household, this isn’t Alice In Wonderland, I just think it’s an easy pitfall for Americans to believe that more of something is always better. With tea and boiling water, I can assure you it isn’t. 

Are you ready for the next most controversial ingredient? It’s milk. It’s absolutely milk. You might think that enjoying your coffee or tea black is some sort of showcase of fortitude, but it’s more like preferring your steak boiled. It’s incorrect. Breakfast tea is first and foremost an excuse for grown adults to drink milk, and you should not, nay, can not deny yourself the experience. 

Here come the replies. I can see them now. “I haven’t had milk in years!” “What about lactose-intolerant people?” I get it. I don’t drink milk either, but in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a ton of non-dairy milk alternatives out there, and a few of them even taste good. My personal go-to is the Planet Oat Extra Creamy oat milk, but I’m not going to die on the hill of calling it the best option. I used real whole milk in the UK because it was delicious and worth all of the associated stomach trouble, but with pasteurization standards in the US I’d say use whatever substitute you like. Almost any substitute, anyway. For gods sake don’t throw powdered creamer in there, you monster.
 
And so we reach the politics and religion of tea-making: what tea am I using? Bag or loose leaf? Assam, Ceylong, Darjeeling, perhaps a blend? A million enraged responses rest on my answers here, and I’m excited to disappoint. After a lot of consideration and sampling from across the black tea market, I use Tazo Awake English Breakfast tea in bags. 

Before you kill me, please give me a chance to explain. I’m not suggesting that the tea brand served at Subway restaurants is the best choice for everyone. Choice in tea blend is incredibly personal and I don’t condone judging anyone’s taste or pushing them toward a particular brand. That said, I do think people who boil loose leaf black teas in strainers might be psychopaths. I tried it for a good while with several recommended brands, and it feels not unlike rolling your own cigarettes. It’s a raw unfiltered punk rock experience and it’s not at all for the faint of heart, which leaves me out. 

As far as finding the right tea for you goes, I’d say try everything, but I’ve found in my personal experience that tea leaves lose something when they travel overseas. British tea is better in the UK. American tea is better in the states. Could this be entirely placebo effect? Totally, but I think science will back me up on it some day. Most importantly, the tea for you should be tasty, strong enough to punch some flavor through a generous amount of milk, and able to withstand a scalding dose of water. 

Which finally brings me to my last point: preparation. I don’t really measure this stuff out, but I think a standard tea bag will take 150-250 ml of hot boiling-ass water, poured on as quickly as possible after it reaches the boiling point. You want to scald those leaves. Don’t worry, they like it. They were made for it. If you find your black breakfast tea tastes too strong or burnt after pouring scalding water on it, you’re drinking the wrong breakfast tea. Try another one. 

Steep time varies from tea to tea, but in general I’ve found that pulling the tea bag after about 3 minutes gets me the flavor profile I’m looking for. Your experience may vary. Either way, get that tea bag out of there and dump that milk on. I’m not even going to guess how much, but I’m going to say try going more generous with it than you think you should. Milk is great; don’t trust anyone trying to tell you otherwise. Unless you’ve poured enough to make your tea go cold, one of the UK’s most tragic circumstances, you’re probably going to enjoy your cup. 

And that’s my take on the perfect cup of breakfast tea. I look forward to being eviscerated for it. At the very least, I hope you go through these steps just to prove my smug tea-drinking face wrong. I strongly believe that everyone deserves to try a proper cuppa for breakfast.

Recommend If You Like is not owned or funded by a billionaire or even a millionaire. We do have a Patreon. Even sites owned by billionaires and millionaires have Patreons so please don’t hold that against us. And we’re paying all of our writers, photographers and graphic designers. So please consider our Patreon. If you can't afford to become a patron, please sign up to our mailing list. It's free and we're asking here instead of a pop-up. Pop-ups are annoying.