The next several steps are crucial for successful maté preparation. If done correctly, the maté will be vibrant, bitter, and delicious. But if done incorrectly, the mate will likely have to be tossed and I’ll have to start again.
So, with this in mind, I place the palm of one hand over the circular mouth of the gourd, completely enclosing the opening, and turn the gourd over so that it is upside down. Making sure I have a good seal on the opening, I gently pat the base of the gourd several times. This isn’t for good luck; it’s designed to move the smaller particulates up toward the mouth of the gourd. This way, when the bombilla is inserted in the gourd and the drinker sucks on the straw, he/she will get a mouthful of liquid tea rather than small pieces of the loose tea.
The next step is bombilla insertion (don’t snicker, this is serious business!). Without turning the gourd completely over, and my hand still enclosing the opening, I tilt it about 90 degrees so that the mouth is parallel to the floor, allowing gravity to settle the loose maté on one side of the gourd. This leaves a hollow area on the opposite side (the area above the loose maté). Now I can remove my hand from the mouth. Holding the gourd tilted in this position, I pour a very small amount of cold water into the loose maté and allow the water to be absorbed (this takes only a few moments). Now I insert the bombilla into the mouth of the gourd, resting it momentarily on top of the loose tea. Then, holding the bombilla as stationary as possible, I turn the gourd completely upright. The loose tea shifts, settling to the base of the gourd and burying the filtered end of the bombilla. Hot water is then added (Note: some maté drinkers prefer warm rather than hot water). I typically pour enough water to nearly submerge the loose tea.
When this is done, the actual drinking can commence. Small sips are called for rather than large gulps. The tea must be allowed to infuse the mouth, to seep into every taste bud. As the hot water is gradually depleted I add more. In fact, that’s how the process works: Sip until the water is gone, add more, and sip again. Keep repeating this process as many times as you want, or until you need to add fresh maté (the potency of the maté will diminish over time).
At this point, I usually exit the kitchen and reassemble myself on the couch in the living room. Invariably, one of the cats will hop onto my lap and settle, while either Kyla or Josie (or both) will plop down at my feet with a contented sigh. Sipping my tea and petting my cat, I relive my three-hour session, trying to picture each wave.
That’s my surf ritual, what’s yours?
