It’s 6am in the morning, it’s quiet and calm. I’m five years old, sitting with my Oma at her small, round kitchen table sipping hot tea. Mine is milky and sugary, hers is strong and black. Just how the Dutch like it. In the centre of the table, taking pride of place, is Oma’s copper teapot, one of the few items that made the post World War II journey from her beloved homeland, to her new home in Melbourne, Australia.
This memory was the inspiration for starting the Monista Tea Co. It is the first of many stories we want to share with you and we hope to hear your tea stories along the way.