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Tea a la Commodore
Make tea according to preceding recipe, and serve with sugar and three cloves to each cup.
A one-line variation that depends entirely on the tea recipe printed above it. The whole dish is the clove-and-sugar finish, so the only real decisions are how the base tea is brewed and how long the cloves sit in the cup.
- The base teaThe recipe depends on a "preceding recipe" not reproduced here, so its strength is unknown. Assume ordinary black tea, brewed no stronger than usual: if the base is very strong, the cloves will be lost under the tannin.
- Three cloves is a real measurementWhole cloves, not ground, since they are counted. Three per cup is assertive but not overwhelming; eugenol extracts readily into hot liquid, so the spice will have come forward well before the cup is cool enough to drink. Ground clove would turn the surface gritty and muddy the colour.
- Add the cloves to the cup, not the potThe instruction says "to each cup" for a reason. Cloves left in a pot through a second and third pouring keep extracting and go medicinal. Drop them into the empty cup and pour the hot tea over.
- Sugar quantityNone is specified. A teaspoon per cup suits the spice; clove reads as harsh without a little sweetness to round it. Taste before adding more.
- MilkThe recipe is silent, but clove and milk sit badly together. Serve it black, or with a slice of lemon if you want acidity.
- Steeping time in the cupTwo to three minutes with the cloves in gives a clear spiced note. Left ten minutes or more the drink turns numbing and slightly bitter, which is the eugenol taking over.
- YieldAs written this scales by the cup rather than the pot. For six, brew a full pot and set three cloves in each cup before pouring.
Spicing tea with cloves is far older than any American drinks book; clove was one of the Moluccan spices that drove the early spice trade, and by 1900 whole cloves were an inexpensive and widely available pantry item in households that made hams, pickles or mulled drinks. A name like "a la Commodore" borrows the swagger of a bar or hotel list, giving a plain cup of clove-spiced tea the air of something ordered rather than brewed at home.