In his masterly book, “The Harney & Sons Guide to Tea” (The Penguin Press, $25.95), master tea blender Michael Harney says that from the original six teas carried by his family’s business, which were doubtless mostly blends at the time, they now sell over 300. In 1988, after a career in France with the venerable brandy firm Camus Cognac, Harney joined his father’s tea company as buyer and blender. Harney’s book offers a more succinct overview of the history of tea, and instead delves into the intricacies of tasting tea. He divides the six basic categories of tea (white, green, oolong, yellow, black and puerh) into eight chapters: White, Chinese Green Teas, Japanese Green Teas, Oolong Teas, Yellow Teas, Chinese Black Teas, what he dubs British Legacy Black Teas (Darjeeling, Nilgiri, Assam, Ceylon, Kenyan and British Black tea blends), and Puerhs. Harney explains his five-step tasting guide, and for each tea profiled in each chapter, he offers detailed descriptions of the teas and extensive tasting notes.

How would I compare these two books? They are both excellent and should be part of your tea library. Indeed, they could be your tea library, and you would have all the information you would ever need. The best way to compare them then is to say that while “The Story of Tea” brings to life the tea gardens, culture and personalities of the tea-growing world, and most importantly the teas themselves, making the reader not only want to immediately make tea but also to get on a plane bound for China, India or Ceylon, reading “The Harney & Sons Guide to Tea” is like taking a master class from a master buyer/blender. If God is in the details, Harney’s book is a holy manifesto indeed. Like the best wine writers, he has a gifted way of describing the flavors in the cup, such as this comparison of Chinese and Japanese green teas: “Compared with the darker, more mouth-filling Japanese green teas, Chinese greens have the gentler vegetal flavors of steamed leeks, green beans, or bok choy. And where Japanese greens have no sugariness, Chinese greens have charming sweet notes of cooked carrots, jasmine, and sometimes a subtle hint of honey.”

One of the first restaurants I saw that used tea in the kitchen was a place next to the Soho branch of the Guggenheim Museum in the 1980s. Sadly, I can’t remember the name of the place but I remember the passion for tea in the woman who owned it. The shop sold loose teas, tea accoutrement and had a café that featured savory and sweet dishes, the majority of which had tea as an ingredient. The tea was usually a subtle note in the food but the results were delicious. One of my favorite stops in Paris is the Left Bank location of Mariage Frères, a wonderful and evocative tea shop that also features a small restaurant upstairs (in the basement, there is a fascinating tea museum). Several of the dishes on the menu include tea as an ingredient, and they offer tea-pairing suggestions for every dish. It is an eye-opening experience to taste just the right tea that marries perfectly with a particular dish, and often the same tea that is in the dish. It is like drinking the same fine old Burgundy that was used to make the coq au vin. What grows together goes together. The Heiss’ include a quote that is written around the doorframe of a traditional charcoal-firing tea factory in China that is a fitting coda to this piece. It is as follows:

The time is here…
Let everything be happiness
Through the door
Let this fragrance spread
Happiness all over this place.

by James Mellgren