Why the Tea Is Poured from a Height

The arm rises. The stream of tea falls half a metre into the glass without spilling a drop. The first time you see it, you think it is theatre. It is not. It is chemistry.

Pouring from a height aerates the tea. The stream mixes with air on the way down, creating a frothy head and releasing volatile compounds that change the flavour. Flat-poured tea and high-poured tea from the same pot taste different. The Moroccans figured this out without a laboratory. They just knew the tea tasted better when the arm went up.

The tea itself is gunpowder green — Chinese tea, rolled into pellets, imported to Morocco since the 18th century when the British opened trade routes through Gibraltar. The mint is spearmint — nana — fresh, never dried. The sugar is not optional. Moroccans add sugar to the pot, not the glass, and the quantity will alarm anyone who counts grams. A standard pot for four people uses five to eight sugar cubes. The sweetness is structural. Without it, the bitterness of the gunpowder green overwhelms the mint.

Three glasses is the custom. The proverb says the first glass is gentle as life, the second strong as love, the third bitter as death. In practice, the three glasses mean you have been welcomed, you have been fed, and you may now leave without offence. Refusing the first glass is rude. Refusing the third is understood.

The host pours. Always. You do not pour your own tea in someone else's home, and you do not start drinking until the host drinks. If the host pours a glass back into the pot, he is mixing — the tea is not ready yet. Wait.

A glass of mint tea in a café costs 5-10 dirhams. In someone's home, it costs nothing and is worth more than everything else you will experience in Morocco combined. Accept every glass you are offered. You will be offered many.