Lancashire Tea

And on the pedestal these words appear:

"My name is Lancashire Tea:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Have I found the king, nay, emperor of teas? The most exquisitely blended, most excellently constituted, most extravagantly packaged brand of tea this side of Gabriel’s trumpet?

Lancashire Tea, like the county that shares its name, arrived late on the scene. Founded in only 2006, the company ‘tweaked and blended until we felt we have the perfect cup.’ Co-founder Lynn Hitchen told the BBC back in 2009:

“We tried it on ourselves, on friends, family and eventually came up with this one and it seemed to be a hit. Everybody that tasted it liked it!”

Sadly, there are no red rose petals in it, but the blend is made up of African tea leaves from plantations in Kenya, Tanzania and Malawi. Having toured a planation in (what I like to call) British East Africa, I can vouch for the area’s fertility and verdancy. The brand benefited from Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling publicly telling fans that Lancashire Tea was her favourite, and that she specially imports it to her Scottish home. Her consistent and bold stance in the current ‘culture wars’ has made me an admirer of the famous writer; her preference for Lancashire Tea only increases that respect.

That Lancashire Tea is made up of African teas rather than Indian or Chinese need not cause us to challenge its beautiful name. Where the blend is devised, made and perfected is just an important as where the tea leaves originally grew. Some might ask where our great Christian faith comes from: the hot wilderness and towns of Israel? The basilicas of Rome? The printing presses of Wittenburg and Geneva? The pulpits of puritan England? The chapels of Victorian nonconformity? Our great faith may have been expressed and cultivated in such places, but it was first wrought and blended in heaven, in the very heart of God: