Chai Smoothie

When we were travelling through India, the loud call of "chai" as we made our way through the narrow streets of whatever new city we had arrived in, became a call of comfort. It was the promise of familiarity, community and more often than not a much-needed sugar hit. It was mesmerising to watch the men take jugfuls of milky tea which, for all we knew had been bubbling away with ancient spices for all of eternity, and from a distance pour the hot liquid into little glasses ready for consumption. As I sipped my chai from these mini glasses I wondered how many others had sipped from the same glass before it was briefly rinsed, in what was most definitely not bottled water, and reused. Instead of disgusting me, this image made me feel like one of the locals. Like I was suddenly a part of this incredible community of one billion Indians. I'd sip my chai and watch the hustle and bustle race around me. The incessant honking, barking and yelling would quiet to a dull roar and I would be refreshed, ready to once again climb atop our Royal Enfield and forge a path across the subcontinent.

A few chai experiences still stand out for me, even as I look back four years on...

1. My very first chai in Chennai. After coming from Sri Lanka, India was a whole other world of chaos. We fought our way to our pre-booked accommodation and it truly lived up to its $3/night value. Squat toilets that stank like a burst sewer pipe, thin walls, mould, loud TVs and louder local men crowding the halls in their lungis. We were the only Westerners and, the way the cab driver looked at us when we gave him the address, perhaps we would be both the first and last Westerners to visit this fine establishment. The next day we gathered up our things and hunted down some new accommodation. We dumped our bags, found chai and knew that everything was going to be ok.

2. We purchased our Royal Enfield from a man we will forever refer to as "boss man." He had the monopoly on used-bike shops in Chennai and we quickly formed a love-hate relationship with the guy. He would call Chris "bubba," buy us chai, be constantly late, drag out the buying process, rip us off completely, help us to buy occy straps over panniers and, in the end, buy back our beloved Big Red ready for onsale to the next lot of adventurous tourists with forts and camels in their starry eyes. For more details on our endeavour to buy a motorbike in India, check the Tamil Nadu section of our blog.

3. In Rajasthan, which turned out to be my favourite Indian state, our motorbike needed some repairs. Like everything in India, this was a long processes that meant visiting a number of establishments. Chris did the running around while I took up a shop-owner's invitation to sit in the cool of his shop and avoid the desert heat. He bought me chai and we sat together and watched the world go by. His customers came and went, smiled broadly at the redheaded girl perched in their familiar local shop and went on with their day.

One day we'll be ready to return to India. To face the challenge head-on and maybe even spend another two months there. For now, I have my smoothie. A mix between that familiar chai taste and another Indian favourite...lassi!

Ingredients

1 black tea bag

1/3 cup (80mL) boiling water

1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp ground cardamon

1/2 tsp ground clove

3cm fresh ginger (or 1/2 tsp ground ginger)

4 hard ginger biscuits (I used Arnott's ginger nut)

1 cup (250g) greek yoghurt

1 tbsp honey

Method

Place tea bag in the boiling water in a small heatproof jar. Let stand for 3 minutes. Discard tea bag. Cool. Blend tea with remaining ingredients until smooth. Serve topped with extra crumbled ginger biscuits.

Add one cup of ice and blend again if you prefer an icy cold drink.

Serves 1

Recipe adapted from Women's Weekly Juices and Smoothies