Hot has the çay to be, never lukewarm nor slightly warmed up, steaming hot must be the çay, when it arrives at your table the glass must be steamed too. At its best, the çay is served in small thin walled blown glass with a tiny, golden ornament on its top. Black, with a golden shimmer must be the çay, a few but not many flakes of the tea must remain on the bottom of the glass, floating around while you held your glass of çay with your fingertips. Sugar is needed for the çay, not  a tiny teaspoon, even if it speaks for the teahouse when your çay comes along with a small, silver spoon. But the sugar has to float into the çay, not in form of a few meagre crumbs but with a rush of this white gold. Sweet scents the çay who deserves his title but never mawkish, with your fingertips hold your glass and stir your çay slowly and with thought. Sugar pretzels filled with honey suit your çay well, oh, sip your çay slowly and stir again, the çay is no fast flowing-stream but a long stream of joy. Add more sugar or less, but milk does the çay no good. Taste the çay carefully, strong and intense but not overwhelming is the çay worth to be drunken. Never ask for the çay, because in the tea-house where you will sit, they will know that one glass can be nothing more than a beginning, because çay needs company, a chess game, a long story of a broken heart, a complex legacy claim all will find a better end with çay than without.

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