Steep this one for a full ten minutes and you get a tart, wine-dark cup that leans closer to cranberry and pomegranate than to anything you'd conventionally call tea. It comes from Hibiscus sabdariffa, the variant grown for drinking rather than the ornamental hibiscus varieties that run from white through pink, red, orange, peach and even purple; of the roughly 300 species in the hibiscus family, this is the one that ends up in the cup. Expect orange, cranberry, peach, date and honey alongside the dominant floral hibiscus note, with a deep red colour that comes from the plant's own organic acids and flavonoid glycosides rather than anything added.
The plant is generally thought to have originated in Africa, and this batch is grown in Nigeria. Its name changes with the region: Rosella tea in Australia, karkade in Egypt and Sudan, arhul ka phool where Hindi is spoken, java kusum in Bengali- and Sanskrit-speaking areas. The earliest recorded drinking of it goes back to Ancient Egypt, where Pharaohs are said to have favoured it as a cooling drink along the Nile, and hibiscus tea has kept that reputation as a body-coolant ever since. It reached Europe in the 18th century and the American market in the 19th.
It has long been drunk as an aid to digestion and general wellbeing, and it carries a folk reputation for supporting the immune system, protecting the liver and easing menstrual discomfort. It is also traditionally associated with lowering blood pressure, and some drink it regularly in the belief that it slows how quickly the body absorbs starch and sugar.
What actually comes through in the cup is milder than hibiscus flower tea on its own: a gentle start on the palate that opens into a sharp, tangy finish that lingers. Coarse cut, caffeine-free and low in calories, it takes freshly boiled water and a five-to-ten-minute steep, and it is happy served plain, with a spoon of honey, or poured over ice in warm weather.
