Angels' Tea: a caress of gold and light
Beneath the languid arches of a Moroccan palace, caressed by the jagged shadow of mashrabiya, a traveler let his gaze wander over the undulating reflections of a Moorish fountain. Moments earlier, he had enjoyed a dessert with unforgettable oriental notes: thin slices of orange, glazed with amber honey, sprinkled with jasmine flowers as fragile as the evening breeze. With each bite, a caress, a voluptuous shiver, a sweet sigh on the lips... like an evanescent dream whose taste is never forgotten.
A tea named memory
Back in Paris, the memory of these emotions pursued him like a lingering perfume. Sometimes, at the turn of a thought, he would close his eyelids to revive the celestial ecstasy of that almost dreamed-of gourmet moment. It was upon discovering our Angels' Tea, in that hushed sanctuary he called his tea shop, and which he jealously guarded, even from the confidences of his closest friends, that the past once again became flesh and shiver. From the first sip, the scents of jasmine, honey like a golden promise, and the sparkle of orange awakened shivers within him. And there he was again, at the crossroads of worlds, his cup in hand... both in his Parisian living room and in the bluish gardens of Majorelle, languidly stretched out on the deep cushions of an opulent boudoir, where even silence seemed woven from silk, whisper and voluptuousness.
