A few weeks ago, I was shocked to read that Russia far outstrips the UK in Indian tea imports. Perhaps I should not have been that surprised. The Russian tea tradition is as old as the British one.

Tea arrived in Russia in the early 17th centuryâ??a present to the emperor from crafty Chinese ambassadors who must have wanted to use it as a trade tool. They succeeded beyond their expectations. The Russians became enamoured, and leaf-bearing caravans trekked for more than ten thousand miles to quench the countryâ??s thirst. Of course, the longer the journey, the higher the price and, for a long time, tea was the preserve of the Russian elite, though now it is a cross-class drink.

Tea masters soon started developing their own blend, usually mixing different China leaves. Over time, the Russians also developed their own brewing technique. They make a highly concentrate teaâ??much as we would do to make iced teaâ??then cut it with boiling water from the samovar. The proportions of tea concentrate to water determine the final taste.

I donâ??t have a samovar, so my attempts at recreating Russian tea are by necessity approximate. But I gave it a shot by making a tea concentrateâ??steeping 2 tablespoons of a China and Indonesia blend from Kousmichoff in 26oz water for ten minutesâ??then diluted it with freshly boiled water (just under half a cup tea concentrate, and the rest hot water). The results were interesting.

I had had the Kousmichoff tea before, brewed the British way, and found the Russian version somewhat stronger in flavor, though, inexplicably, it was slightly less aromatic in the nose. I wonder whether this is because the hot water dilutes the scents more than the taste. Still, it made for an excellent tea, with a florally spicy nose and a distinct spice note in the mouth. Incredibly elegant and well balanced, like a Seurat painting. If this is any close to what the Russian court sampled in the early 17th century, I can see why they got hooked on tea.

On the tea stakes, Ireland wins. Although Britain is the country most closely associated with tea after China and India, the Irish drink a lot more gallons every year than their easterly neighbors. And a heck of a tea it is too. Just like you could almost slice Irish beer, so you can almost slice Irish tea.

I had never realized quitehow strong it was, though, until I did a side-by-side comparison between English and Irish blend yesterday. To celebrate the last leg of my tea tour, I brewed myself a cup of English and Irish Breakfast. The English Breakfast was to British traditionâ??a blend of Assam, Ceylon and Kenyaâ??rather than the American Keemun-based version. The Irish Breakfast had the same three teas with a sprinkling of Indonesian leaves.

I steeped both in boiling water for four minutes. The cups looked similar, though the Irish one was redderâ??a clear sign of a higher proportion of Kenya tea. But boy, what a difference in the mouth. The English version had a good body and a rounder flavor, with a distinctively Assamey finish. The Irish one was even fuller bodied and went for strength all out. Taste subtleties were perhaps lost, but it had sheer raw power. It reminded me of Schiele to the English Breakfastâ??s Klimt.