I love carefully brewing a cup of tea from loose leaves. The ritual is as enjoyable as the final product. But, sometimes I want to just get on with it. Sometimes I crave a substantial cup of tea that will shock me into life, not something that’s better suited to moments when I need delicate coddling. Say hello to “humble” Yorkshire Tea. A flimsy box with a bold slash of red houses precisely-arranged bags that promise to produce “a proper brew.” And that’s exactly what you get. This isn’t a bougie, pretentious cuppa, despite its Royal Warrant. It tastes like tea leaves, and nothing else. Earthy notes emerge with increasing strength as it steeps, particularly if you persevere for the entire 4-5 minute recommended steeping time. The final cuppa is strengthening all by itself. When liberally sweetened, fortified with a hefty dash of cream, or aided by both additions, it’s almost as substantial as a small meal. Its boldness almost verges on impropriety. A firm lack of adornment makes it clear that this tea knows its identity, and celebrates it confidently.