
An island in the middle of the Atlantic, and a woman called Faty.
I am not a farmer and I am not a tea expert. I am the grandson of a woman from São Miguel, and I moved what she drinks to the city I live in. That is the whole of it, and this is the whole story.
Nine islands, one of them with tea
The Azores are a Portuguese archipelago in the middle of the Atlantic, 1,500 km from Lisbon and further than that from anything else. São Miguel is the largest, and it is the only place in Europe where tea is grown commercially.
Volcanic soil, mild humidity all year, and cloud that comes in off the water most mornings. It is a combination you cannot fake somewhere else, and it is why tea has grown here since the 1800s.

What the mist does to a leaf
The terraces face north, and the cloud sits on them until about eleven most mornings. The leaves stay wet, the sun stays weak, and the plant grows slowly.
Slow is bad for yield and good for flavour: a leaf that takes its time builds more of what you taste. That is the trade the island makes — less tea, and tea that tastes like somewhere specific.

The one advantage of being far away
The pests that attack tea in Asia never crossed the Atlantic, and the year-round humidity would not let them settle if they had. So nothing is sprayed on these rows.
I do not call that organic and I do not put a badge on it. It is simply what this geography means.

The woman all of this is named after
"Faty" is the name she goes by. She is from the island and has never left it for long. I visit almost every year, and I live in Dubai now.
I used to come back with two tins in my luggage, and people would ask where they could buy it, and I had no answer. This brand is the answer: a way for something of hers to exist where I am. It was not made in a boardroom, and I did not name it after something I do not know.

"The tea tells you." She said it when I asked how she knows the steep is done. It is a completely useless answer, and it is completely correct.

Weathered basalt and volcanic ash. It is what gives every one of our teas that dry mineral finish.

April to October, two leaves and a bud, by hand. Nothing is taken in the wet half of the year.

Sealed on the island, flown in small runs. We hold one season, then it sells out, then we wait for the next.
That is as much as I can tell you. The rest is in the cup.
Start with the Discovery Box if you are not sure, or read what I write from the island now and then.