What?
T2 Teamaker, (£20, t2tea.com). Steeping chamber with a meshed floor and diaphragm valve. Circumferential pressure from a mug rim unstoppers the device, releasing its contents.
Why?
It’s time to unleash some masculini-tea.
Well?
I’m staring at a black box, the way the apes do at the beginning of 2001: A Space Odyssey. The box is emblazoned T2, the name of an Australian company committed to modernising tea drinking, which seems to be code for “making it less mimsy”. In the box is a selection of blends that sound like Lynx deodorants – Pumping Pomegranate, Arctic Fire, New York Breakfast. There is also the T2 teamaker, which is impossible to say three times quickly. Part of a wave of similar brewing devices, it’s designed to be a teapot killer, by which I mean it steeps loose-leaf tea, then fills a cup with no need for pouring. I don’t mean there is a killer on the loose who leaves a teapot and bag of oolong at the scene. (His calling card says: “Chai before you Die, Sarge!” And now the papers have got hold of it!)
The teamaker is colourless, resembling a mail-order chemistry set. I scoop and steep, then place the teamaker on top of an oversize T2 cup. Hot dang! It’s thrilling to see my tisane torrent through the device’s mesh bottom. It sounds like someone urinating from a great height. Not appetising, but undeniably manly.
Lifting the device at any point stops the flow; the footed base means you can safely set it back on the table without drips. It has the edge on teapots, whose spouts tend to dribble like bulldogs at a biscuit. (It has the edge on men, too, come to think of it.) The detachable lid and filter are easy to wash. In gadgetry terms, it’s excellent: simple, clean and ingenious. But the comfort of teamaking is not in modernist hoopla. It’s a nurturing ritual, not a science experiment.
I notice T2’s new stores carry a gorgeous range of traditional teaware, for those who still value beauty over efficiency. The teamaker is modern, manly, and misunderstands its own nature. If you feel the same, form a very, very orderly queue.
Any downside?
Brews enough for one cup at a time, which is extremely modern. “I’m making a cup of tea, for me. You can get your own.” Glory days.
Counter, drawer, back of the cupboard?
In the man-cave. With the tobacco bubble bath and the Batman earrings. 3/5
