Cup made by Great Granddaughter of Davey Crocket
Red coffee pot and 31 cal. revolverCome on in and have a cup of Red Rose Tea
Long before coffee became a popular brew in this country, there was another brew, tea. Now don’t misunderstand me, a cup of Joe or Java and other names referring to coffee is an excellent drink, hot steaming and black as I like it. Camp coffee is probably the best, for it is brewed in a large pot over an open fire. No precise measurement is needed, just simply pour the grounds into a pot of boiling water and wait. When the coffee is gone, dump in another handful of grounds, never wash the pot or remove the old grounds and I guarantee you will soon have a cup of coffee that will take second to no other cup of Joe.
There is an old red granitite coffee pot a sitting on a shelf in my house that has accompanied me on several occasions when camping on the Niangua River and the many rendezvous I participated in. Many a time when I crawled out of my lodge into a stiff legged cold morning, I wanted only to fire up the pot for a cup of coffee. That old pot traveled with me to Williams Ford, Corky, Granny Hollow, Osage Fork and Buffalo Head to mention a few places. The old pot was found by my Son in an old dump back in the woods in near pristine condition.
Back to Tea. Now there are some of the fellows I know that frown on a cup of tea, but it doesn’t matter. I know a gent as raw as a bone and tough as a horseshoe nail that will drink a cup of Red Rose Tea any time, and I, many times have sat watching the sun come up, shrouded in river fog, sipping a steaming cup of Red Rose Tea, while munching a fresh baked biscuit. There ain’t nothing finer on a cold morning hunched near a campfire. There is another man of whom I have great respect and fondness for that appreciates a cup of Red Rose Tea. He is and Englishman of great repute. His name is Sir Albern Weedon and stands no taller than two feet in height.
Red Rose Tea is black and gives off a distinctive pleasant aroma. It is fit for a king of high breeding and softens the eyes of anyone drinking the brew. The tea should be at all gathering of men and women who are trying to work out conflicts around the world. Is this a Commercial, heck no.
I am of English Irish descent, with a little Indian blood trickling through my veins and perhaps the English Irish part of me is this reason I like the tea, but I wonder if way back when the Indians and white folks were warring if they had sat down and drank a cup or two of Red Rose Tea they might have settled the conflict in favor of both sides.
So come on in, throw your hat or bonnet in a corner and sit down and have a cup of Red Rose Tea with me. Adios.
Long before coffee became a popular brew in this country, there was another brew, tea. Now don’t misunderstand me, a cup of Joe or Java and other names referring to coffee is an excellent drink, hot steaming and black as I like it. Camp coffee is probably the best, for it is brewed in a large pot over an open fire. No precise measurement is needed, just simply pour the grounds into a pot of boiling water and wait. When the coffee is gone, dump in another handful of grounds, never wash the pot or remove the old grounds and I guarantee you will soon have a cup of coffee that will take second to no other cup of Joe.
There is an old red granitite coffee pot a sitting on a shelf in my house that has accompanied me on several occasions when camping on the Niangua River and the many rendezvous I participated in. Many a time when I crawled out of my lodge into a stiff legged cold morning, I wanted only to fire up the pot for a cup of coffee. That old pot traveled with me to Williams Ford, Corky, Granny Hollow, Osage Fork and Buffalo Head to mention a few places. The old pot was found by my Son in an old dump back in the woods in near pristine condition.
Back to Tea. Now there are some of the fellows I know that frown on a cup of tea, but it doesn’t matter. I know a gent as raw as a bone and tough as a horseshoe nail that will drink a cup of Red Rose Tea any time, and I, many times have sat watching the sun come up, shrouded in river fog, sipping a steaming cup of Red Rose Tea, while munching a fresh baked biscuit. There ain’t nothing finer on a cold morning hunched near a campfire. There is another man of whom I have great respect and fondness for that appreciates a cup of Red Rose Tea. He is and Englishman of great repute. His name is Sir Albern Weedon and stands no taller than two feet in height.
Red Rose Tea is black and gives off a distinctive pleasant aroma. It is fit for a king of high breeding and softens the eyes of anyone drinking the brew. The tea should be at all gathering of men and women who are trying to work out conflicts around the world. Is this a Commercial, heck no.
I am of English Irish descent, with a little Indian blood trickling through my veins and perhaps the English Irish part of me is this reason I like the tea, but I wonder if way back when the Indians and white folks were warring if they had sat down and drank a cup or two of Red Rose Tea they might have settled the conflict in favor of both sides.
So come on in, throw your hat or bonnet in a corner and sit down and have a cup of Red Rose Tea with me. Adios.
1 comment:
It's me again. I love tea and coffee. I just read something the other day about tea often being a preferred hot drink in the pioneer era.
Love my coffee though. Wait, love my tea though. Wait, love my coffee though.
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