By Abe Villarreal
One new thing about the new year is that I gave up coffee. I never thought I would write these words. Maybe I'll have it again someday. I know I will, but for now, no coffee.
I started to experience a little bit of acid reflux, and I narrowed it down, through a process of elimination, to the coffee. Now that I've been coffee-free for over a week, the reflux is gone.
I've always been a coffee drinker and a tea drinker. Now, I'm more of a tea drinker. Green teas, chamomile, mint medleys, and more. Then, when I thought I couldn't meet a tea I didn't like – I found Dandelion Root.
At first sip, I felt like I had made a mistake. That in my cup of coffee, there were bitter roots from ancient plants. Unburied after hundreds of years and ground up into a tiny tea bag somehow making its way into modern day supermarkets.
It was at that moment, I realized I was a victim of corporate marketing. "Pleasantly roasted with bitter notes," is not exactly how I would describe this tea flavor. Tea companies are the best at marketing. They sell you on the partnership that you are creating with the earth. On the support you are giving to farmers and herb collectors.
They tell you how much life will be better with a cup of warm tea, a cozy couch, a cat by your side, and the sound of a slight rain drizzle pitter-pattering outside your window. While you sip your tea, birds will be flying in formation over rooftop buildings, perfectly accompanied by a sunset painted by Thomas Kinkade. All of it could be yours if you make the right decision in the grocery store aisle.
Marketing has one way to sell tea. Mothers have others. During the holiday break, I visited mom and she worked up a tea because she was getting sick and said I should have some too. Tea drinking is always done better in pairs. Her tea didn't come from a box and it wasn't in little see through bags. It was in a reused pickle jar.
The tea was tiny pieces of dead sticks and thorns that apparently just needed some boiling water to come to life. She threw them in a pot, cranked up the flames, and tea was born. She reminded me that almost everything you need in life is all around you. Mom tea marketing. It always sounds convincing.
I like teas. I like the kind that warms you up. The kind that helps you sleep. I like the kind that gives you energy, and the kind that gives you moments of peace. I don't get all those things from reading boxes, but I do get them from growing up listening to motherly figures in the kitchen.
"Drink this mijo. It will make you feel better," and "have some of this and everything will be alright" are the kind of things you want to hear even if you aren't sure what you are drinking.
This year, I'm starting my mornings off with tea. The kind that sits and steeps. The kind that gets you going, and at the end of a long day the kind that winds you down.
As for Dandelion Root, if mom said it was okay, I'll give it another shot.
Abe Villarreal writes about the traditions, people, and culture of America. He can be reached at
