There is an interesting ritual that takes place all across America (and a large chunk of the world) each and every morning. Before showering, dressing, or a civil conversation, we must get our first cup of coffee or tea. Me? I'm a tea person--not so strange. However, I did think I was a bit unusual in that I have a preferred and very specific cup with which to drink my tea. I have cabinets full of cups, some are quite elegant and others are just nice. The cup I prefer is neither elegant nor nice, and here it is:
My cup is ugly. I am sure that it is at least a decade old. It is faded (I believe that is a print of van Gogh's Starry Night), and several years back it came out of the dishwasher with a chip. I have to meticulously avoid the chip to prevent injury, and yet I still use it! There is just something about that cup. When we are entertaining guests I never use the ugly cup, too shameful. But on the inside, I'm longing for my cup.
A while back I found myself in the kitchen of our good friend Diane Levitt. She offered tea and somehow the conversation turned to cups. Though I did not want Diane to think I was a freak, I took the risk, and told her of my ugly cup saga. She promptly walked over to a glassed-door cabinet and pulled out a cup. I could not help but notice that she handled it with reverence. "This is my cup," she said, "it is just the right size, the right weight, and nobody drinks out of this cup but me." Of course, Diane's cup was much more elegant than mine, but still, what a freeing moment. I wanted to cry: "I am not a freak! I am not alone!"
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| Diane's Cup, Windsor bone china, made in England. |
So now I am on a quest (see below), for the perfect cup. My ugly cup cannot last too much longer. Like all of design, aesthetics matter (I must get rid of the shame; I want to be proud of my cup), but function matters too. I have learned that a heavy ceramic lip does not work, the tea (or coffee) does not go in the mouth smoothly. The thickness and material matters. Diane has her own theory: "I prefer very thin fine china because I have a theory about why it keeps my coffee delightfully hot. I believe that a thin porcelain does not draw the heat out of the coffee the way thick softer clay does. The thicker the material the more heat is absorbed into that material. Fine china works well for a cup of tea, coffee or hot chocolate because the thin china steals nothing from the temperature and allows the liquid to stay hot. It's my theory and I have experimented! I also prefer the light weight aspect of china." Here are some options:
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| Giardino del Semplici Celeste, by Richard Ginori, $65 |
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| Aurea Coffee Cup & Saucer, by Richard Ginori, $154. |
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| Manhattan Map Mug, bone china, by Tiffany, $55. |
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| The Models, bone china, Melody Rose of London, $88 |
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| Trapeze Boy Mug, bone china, by Melody Rose of London, $88 |
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| Parma Teacup & Saucer, bone china and platinum, Legle of Limoges, France, $109. |
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| Alphabet Mugs, Royal Copenhagen, $80 |
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| NY Bloom Street Mug, Kate Spade for Lenox, $19. |
By-the-way, Kate Spade's collaboration with Lenox has produced a shocking amount of products. There are well over a hundred mugs alone. An awful lot of them seem to be named after streets. Who knew! Some of them are clever:
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| June Lane Cup, Kate Spade for Lenox, $38 |
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| Royal Pip Flowers Mug, Pip Studio, $13 |
There is one Los Angeles company that claims to have solved the problem of the perfect cup:
NotNeutral. This design firm produced a group of coffee and tea cups, called LINO for the professional barista. I have yet to try them, but they seem to have many happy customers.
Diane just sent me an email. Apparently she has scoured the internet to find another antique Windsor bone china cup and she has managed to find one. "I'm getting a spare," she said. I understand perfectly.
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