WHEN Eileen first came to the United States, she went to a local restaurant and asked for a cup of tea. The waitress returned promptly with a steaming teacup full of hot water on a saucer. She set it down briskly and left without comment. Bewildered and a bit insulted, Eileen wasn't reassured by the spoon and two small packets left on the saucer next to the cup of water. She called the waitress back and told her to take it back, she'd just as soon have her water in a glass, thank you.

What my grandmother Eileen didn't know, being fresh from Ireland in the 40's, was that one of those little packets on the saucer was a teabag. And well she might not have known, tea had only begun arriving as little bags in 1904 when a New York tea merchant thought he'd save some money by sending his samples of tea in paper packets instead of tins. In my grandmother's day, tea still came in those tins; she had never seen a teabag before.

I grew up to the sound of my parents marvelling over the lack of tea cozies in California. My mother eventually began to sew her own and every morning at breakfast my dad would pluck her teacozy from the teapot and deposit it, roasty warm, onto the lucky head of one of his children while he poured himself a cuppa.

As a child, I often wondered why everyone else I knew drank coffee. Only later in life when I visited other parts of the world did I realize that this is probably due to the fact that most teas readily available in the states should be considered drinkable only in dire situations wherein there is no other potable liquid at hand. Frankly, what passes for black tea in most U.S. restaurants and grocery stores could easily be confused with cardboard shreddings.

Something I can't explain are those Californians (most of these people are Californians) who claim to be tea drinkers, but refuse to consume anything resembling the lovely black, caffinated beverage we all know and love. These people prefer pouring boiled water over the equivilent of dried-out garden clippings instead. This strange behavior results in a drink referred to as "herbal" tea. Herbal tea seems to be an excuse to flavor some hot water and, in my opinion, should not be called tea. It's not these people's fault, really. As I've said, the black tea available in California has probably driven them to it. So, for those folks out there who haven't experienced the joy of real tea: tea should be black and come in different blends meant to enhance the expression of that intrinsic dark character. Tea may, on occasion, be green or white (green and white teas are simply unfermented leaves - white tea is made from younger tea leaves than green). Tea should NOT be a combination of dandelion leaves, ginseng and essence of artichoke. Unfortunately, you are far more likely to find hot water flavored with strawberry leaves than a proper cup of tea while visiting California.

Which is a shame, because black tea is really good for you. Almost 1,000 years ago, the chinese encouraged its consumption to help prolong life and prevent illness. Recent studies have shown that black tea is rich in antioxidants, which helps do exactly what the chinese thought: stop you from getting sick.

But it doesn't stop there, this research has also shown that regularly drinking black tea prevents heart disease, diabetes, lowers your blood pressure and blood cholesterol levels, helps your liver function more efficiently, improves your cognitive abilities, prevents senility and may even assist in preventing cancer. Plus, Tea naturally contains fluoride, which helps fight tooth decay and gum disease. Hey, you could do worse things with a cup of hot water.