A New Brew
By B.A. Nilsson

The Whistling Kettle

24 Front St., Ballston Spa, 884-2664. Serving Sun-Mon 11-5, Tue-Wed 11-6, Thu-Sat 11-7. AE, D, MC, V

Cuisine: sandwiches and tea

Entrée price range: $3 (peanut butter & jelly) to $12.25 (complete high tea)

Ambiance: cozy, to say the least

‘So watch the wall, my darlings, while the Gentlemen go by,” wrote Kipling, in what was once a famous ode to tea smuggling. And anything worth smuggling obviously was worth something.

It’s difficult, in these waning days of the flo-thru bag, to appreciate the way tea once dominated the landscape, socially and economically. It had to have been good and vital stuff in order to be so integral to that revolution-inspiring party in Boston Harbor way back then. Now it’s a tepid cup of colored water that’s been flavor-free for so long that it’s merely a vehicle for too much milk and sugar.

So I invite you to discover the taste of tea. Start with a whiff. Begin near the entrance of the Whistling Kettle, after you’ve passed the cozy-looking outdoor tables and entered the handsome dining room. To your left is a long sideboard on a shelf of which you’ll find an array of some 80 containers, each petite case sporting a sign that identifies the tea within.

Choose a container and lift it to your nose. Remove the cover and inhale slowly (there’s no need to snuffle tea leaves up your conk). Notice how the aroma swirls, grabbing your various olfactory and flavor receptors like a mad organist playing a too-quick toccata. Notice next how your brain starts sparking and your head comes alive.

Give yourself a chance to settle, then smell another blend. This is the telling moment, because the first one you sampled was merely tea. It’s the second one that points out the tremendous difference there is among tea varieties.

Then take a seat and go for broke. Order a pot of Belgian chocolate rooibos. Make it a large pot. It’ll cost you $7.60, but anyone you’re with will insist on sharing (if you’re alone or miserly, a personal pot is $4.80). This tea needs seven minutes of steeping time, so settle in.

When you pour your first cup, savor it as a wine snob does. Drink in the aroma first as your warm your hands around the cup. Let the steam curl against your face, dampening your cheeks. Then sip with an aerating slurp. Isn’t it an amazing flavor? Can you believe how much chocolate flavor is worked into the brew? It’s a flavor that’s distinct, yet it’s inseparable from the many other flavors competing for your attention.

Kevin and Meahgan Borowsky saw fine tea—and teahouses—as a niche that was growing in the country’s major metropolitan areas, and so were inspired to open this, the area’s first such establishment. Meahgan’s tasteful hand is behind the design and decor; together, the couple developed the sniffing bar and the menu.

The menu is designed as an accompaniment to the tea-drinking experience, with a selection of tea sandwiches (including the classic cucumber and cream cheese, $4.25), a changing couple of soups (the apple-butternut squash combo was impressive), a couple of $6 club sandwiches and a panini array that costs $7 or so. I like the Kettle club panini, which features sliced turkey that has cracked peppercorns worked, with a spinach-artichoke spread and a chunk of mozzarella, on the grilled ciabatta bread.

What’s also nice is the mixed green salad ($3.50), to which you add any number of items at various prices. For example, adding green peppers, chick peas or mushrooms would add 35 cents per item; eggs or any of the cheeses are 50 cents apiece; and meat or bacon adds 75 cents per item. My wife went whole hog, or I should say whole hen, by adding a scoop of curried chicken salad for $1.75, and she was very pleased.

But you probably want the teahouse experience. Its zenith is high tea ($12.25), which gets you a personal pot of (non- premium) tea, a tea sandwich (perhaps you’d care for the goat cheese-watercress-pecan?), a fruit selection and a scone with preserves.

A little lunchier is the san souci tea ($11), which offers unlimited fills of the day’s iced tea special along with soup or salad or a tea sandwich as well as a scone, brownie or tea bread. For an extra buck and a half, add a personal pot of tea in place of the iced variety.

The Kettle’s quiche tea ($10) features a slice of the day’s quiche; both the broccoli and the spinach versions I sampled were nothing more than overcooked, cakelike commercial products. When you raise chickens, as I do, you learn to cook up some killer quiches.

I’ve barely touched on the many teas here, but what good is a printed list? At home, I begin most days with a pot of Earl Grey, brewed with bergamot-rich leaves, so I made it a point to sample others, like the oolong orange blossom and Borengajuli Assam. And there are green teas, white teas, herbal and fruit teas, black teas blended and flavored and lots, lots more.

Despite the many types of tea and the purist attitude of the place, the tea seems somehow modest compared to the attention all those fancy coffees get at the dreaded Starbucks and its many knockoffs. That’s because the coffee boutiques aren’t presenting their brews as things to savor, but rather as vehicles for goofy additives that turn the drinks into one more high-fat, oversugared dessert for the mall-addicted masses.

“Its home lies in the Valley of Romance,” wrote Ibsen of tea, “a thousand miles beyond the wilderness. Fill up my cup . . . Let us hold on tea and love a good tea-table talk.”

Click here for a list of recently reviewed restaurants.

We want your feedback

Have you eaten at any recently reviewed restaurants? Agree or disagree with B.A.? Let us know what you think...

Your Name:
E-mail Address:*
Location:
Rate It:
Comments:

	Send A Letter to Our Editor
	Back Home