You Can't Rush a Chai

Ember Chai takes longer than people expect. You don't just drop a bag in hot water for two minutes. Cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, cloves, black pepper if you're using enough of it. You simmer it. You don't steep it and walk away.

Here's the thing about a drink that takes ten or fifteen minutes to make properly: you end up waiting with someone. Nobody hovers alone over a pot that long without eventually turning to whoever's nearby and just talking. The stove buys you time you didn't ask for, and most people fill it with a conversation instead of silence.

I think that's actually why chai culture, wherever you look at it, tends to be social by nature. It isn't built for rushing out the door with a cup in hand. It's built for someone to ask how your week's going while you're both standing there waiting for the milk to come up right.

We make our Ember Chai as a proper masala blend, loose leaf, meant to be simmered rather than flash-steeped. It's $17 for three ounces, which is enough for a lot of pots. You can make it alone, of course. I just don't think it's quite the same drink when you do.

Have you noticed how certain foods and drinks pull people into the same room without anyone planning it? Bread does that. Soup does that. Chai does it too, maybe more than most, because the waiting is part of the recipe and not a flaw in it.

Most of what I think hospitality actually is comes down to this: showing up for the slow parts of someone's day instead of rushing past them. A person doesn't need to be impressive to be worth that kind of time. They just need to be there.

Choose to be kind. Choose to be grateful. Choose to be happy.

— Nina of GiaNina Collective