I usually loathe flavored teas. The aromas are often artificial and overpowering, killing the delicate taste of tea. The one exception to this is chai. I love the way tea and spices combine to create a warming drink. For me, chai tastes of winter and days spent lazing in front of the log fire. Not that I have one�??it�??s just a daydream. But of course chai is the product of a warm climate.

Monica Bhide, my Indian cuisine guru and one of the most entertaining food writers I know, once confessed she too finds it funny that �??the favorite drink of a “hot” subcontinent is tea!�?� Her recipe for chai is pretty much that anything goes. It could just be tea and a few cardamoms or a complex spicy blend including cinnamon, cloves and other ingredients.

I took the spicier route and made my own chai with an Assam base (Whittard�??s blend) and adding cardamom, pepper, cinnamon, cloves and a touch of allspice. My idea was to compare it with Whittard�??s ready made chai, which has the same ingredients minus the allspice, plus some unspecified flavoring.

I brewed it slightly stronger than recommended, using two teaspoons per pot and steeping them for four minutes. It produced a dark amber liquor with a sweet spicy scent. It was pepperish at first, tickling the tongue ever so slightly. Other spices�??cardamom?�??emerged as the sip traveled through my mouth. The tea is there but definitely plays second fiddle to the spices.

My chai, by contrast, was murkier and darker, with a pronounced cinnamon nose, but an altogether more delicate scent than the Whittard version. Exotic as a Gauguin in the Tahiti period, it had more spiciness at first impact but was altogether less aggressive throughout. The finish was very much malty tea and pepper. I liked it better than the Whittard version, chiefly because it had a stronger tea taste. But I don’t think it would have borne milk as well as the other one.