Tag: Tea

A grainy, high-contrast black-and-white photograph of an older man walking a large dog along a fog-shrouded path. The man stands slightly right of centre, wearing a long belted overcoat, a scarf, gloves, and a fedora-style hat. He holds the dog’s leash in his right hand; his posture is upright but relaxed. The dog walks to his left, head lowered slightly, appearing calm and attentive. A wooden split-rail fence runs along the left side of the path, receding into the background and partly obscured by mist. Bare tree branches arch overhead and dissolve into the fog, creating a soft, blurred canopy. The ground looks wet or muddy, with faint reflections and scattered leaves. The image edges show worn, scratched borders that give the photograph a vintage, weathered appearance. Overall mood is quiet, contemplative, and slightly melancholic. Created by ChatGPT, described by Be My AI, for Late Shift at the Museum of Smells.

“Late Shift at the Museum of Smells” * Fiction * Chris Cottom

aromatica poetica February 4, 2026

I’m working afternoons on our enquiries desk. ‘Old leather walking boots?’ asks a raincoated lady who reminds me of Gran. ‘Freshly buffed with beeswax dubbin?’ I’m gagging for a cup of tea. ‘Sorry, madam. The museum’s banned bee-based treatments.’ Across our cavernous hall, kids are staggering out of our ‘Monarch Immersion Experience’ clutching their heads. Our historic odours unit has recreated the execution of Charles I. It’s a blend of blue blood and horseshit that’s nasally indistinguishable from the real …

A small, ragged-edged rectangular slab looks like a fragment of weathered, earthen material, its surface dense with grit, cracks, and compressed fibers. Carved into the center is a sinuous, worm-like “S” shape that dips and curves across the panel. The groove is filled with a coarse, brick-red pigment that sits unevenly in the trench, giving it a textured, raised, almost crumbly feel. The surrounding brown surface appears rough and organic, as if the whole piece were excavated from soil or made of compacted earth. The contrast between the matte, mottled brown field and the vivid, tactile red line makes the form appear both primal and deliberately inscribed. Made for “The Worms.”

“The Worms” * Nonfiction * David Lowe

aromatica poetica December 3, 2025

The worms live in our basement, in two large storage bins stacked on the floor amid the clutter. Eventually, when I’ve built out more shelves and cabinets, they’ll have their own oversize drawers I can easily slide out when it’s time to feed them. I’ll carve the word WORMS into the wood, knowing that when Caroline and I are dead, new owners will puzzle over what was meant by WORMS. I mean worms. Red wigglers; Eisenia fetida in the Latin. …

Five tea bag mini paintings by Oormila that, according to ChatGPT, “combine organic textures, delicate botanical illustrations, and an ephemeral quality, transforming an everyday object into a work of art.” Read full descriptions of each at the end of the post.

Five Botanical Micros + Mini Tea Bag Paintings by Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad

aromatica poetica February 20, 2025

A note from Oormila: Each of these micros has been paired with a miniature painting I made in mixed-media, on used and dried tea bag silk. These are part of a series of over 150 paintings that I painted on tea bags last year when I weaned myself off coffee and started drinking tea. I wanted to recycle the tea bags and I had the idea for making them into mini-canvases. The paintings in this submission have the same title as the micros …

Indian spices for sale at the Anjuna flea-market, Anjuna Beach, Goa. Large transparent bags heaped with spice varieties with metal scoops.

“An Imperfect Cook” and Other Poems by Kashiana Singh

aromatica poetica August 26, 2022

An imperfect cook I often look up the recipes saved in a handmade diaryone I had brought along, it was sealed in a quilted bagof things, it was not one of brocade or of autumn richcolors, not like bags sealed with dowry, massive, final this bag was handmade, my dadi’s, not a quintessentialfeast of gold and zardozi of weddings, it was permeableof skin, muslin pores on its surface, colored in mustardof haldi, reminding me of dadi’s golden concoction withginger, honey …

A copper samovar sits on a table next to a copper crepe plate stacked with golden deliciousness. And a white teacup and saucer with designs stand by.

“Big Stink in a Little Crepe Shop” * Memoir Excerpt * Elizabeth Sammons

aromatica poetica June 16, 2022

The same way we say “Ah, Shucks!” Russians mutter “Da, Blin!” (Literally, “Yes, crepe.”) I gained insight into this phrase on a mild April evening, when I also discovered how our US cultural expectations sometimes rendered ordinary tasks like ordering dinner somewhat less than forthright. This excerpt comes from “American on Display,” the journal I kept on my first trip to the USSR in 1990 as a bilingual guide on Design USA, a cultural exchange exhibit of American life to …

Drawing by the author of objects evocative of smell - a grey pot of boiling orange liquid, its fire obscured by herbs and flowers, a pink tea cup, and cake with blue and green candles.

“To My Sense of Smell” * Poetry * Gabriela Iacovano

aromatica poetica January 28, 2021

*This poem was inspired by the recent loss of my sense of smell since I contracted COVID-19.* passed the season in rose-muddied berry-tinted dairy-clotted clouds tiny porcelain-and-steam pillars sweet smoke spirals ancient resins candied orange when id never eat it lathering creamy wintry bubbles carrying honeyed mists crushing petals breaking seeds laying ferns on cakes blooming magic feels your absence in the glitter and fog of my soup pot oily kale on broth swirling sea plant emerald frills golden …

A steaming gold teapot with a wood handle and purple knob on the lid on a background of swatches of color: red, yellow, pink, purple, orange. It’s a mixed-media painting that Oormila made to go with the first poem - Masala chai.

Masala Chai & Other Poems by Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad

aromatica poetica December 22, 2020

Masala chai always reminds me of rest stops and rain – Himalayan apple orchards wrapped around rugged trails, the smell of mountain soil, tatters of sky flashing blue smudging to thundercloud grey – a lot like your eyes – I could never tell where the gold ended and the filaments of green began. Nothing comforts the soul like a cup of masala chai, you whispered, savouring the milky decoction of black tea and cloves. Cardamom pods bobbed like boats, in …

“The Butcher’s Shop,” by Passerotti (1580’s), depicts two smiling butchers presenting their wares, surrounded by meats of all kinds.

Leopold Bloom Dreams of Kidneys & Sausages & Warm Human Flesh * Excerpt from James Joyce’s ‘Ulysses’

aromatica poetica September 15, 2020

A while back we published “Molly Bloom’s Stream of Consciousness Ends in Flowers & Perfumed Breasts,” the soliloquy which closes the epic modernist tale Ulysses, by James Joyce. It seemed high time then to give some space to her poor cuckholded husband Leopold Bloom who, unlike his wife who prefers toast and cakes, has a taste for “the inner organs of beasts and fowls.” The below section opens the fourth episode, what’s known as the Calypso episode. It is our …