Nepali Chiya Sits Between Masala Chai and Butter Tea

Everything below about how tea is made across the Nepali hills and towns comes from what actually happens rather than from what is supposed to.

Two teas in one country

Nepali chiya, in its most common form, is a milky sweet tea spiced with cardamom, ginger, clove and cinnamon. In the higher districts a salted tea made with butter or a fat substitute is equally familiar, and served in different circumstances.

These are not competing versions of one drink; they are separate preparations with separate names and separate occasions. A household can easily make both, and which one appears depends on altitude, season, guests and what is in the kitchen. Describing the country as having a single national tea would flatten a genuinely layered set of practices.

What distinguishes chiya from masala chai

Chiya generally runs lighter on the total spice load than a heavily masala-forward Indian cup, though this varies widely. Cardamom is often the lead, and Nepal grows large cardamom, which is the smoky black kind rather than the green. Ginger appears constantly, and many households treat it as the default rather than as an addition.

Sugar levels are typically generous, and the milk ratio tends toward the milky end in town tea shops. The leaf is frequently local, since Nepal produces both orthodox and CTC tea in its eastern districts.

The salted, fatty tea

The salted preparation belongs to the same broad Himalayan family as the butter teas of Tibet and Ladakh. It is savoury rather than sweet, and people encountering it expecting chiya are usually startled by the first mouthful. It uses a compressed or coarse tea rather than the leaf a sweet cup would use, and it is churned rather than merely stirred.

By the second boil, it appears more in the higher districts and in Tibetan-influenced communities than it does in the lowland towns. Calling it a variant of chiya gets the relationship backwards, since the two arrive from different directions entirely.

The tea shop and the thermos

Nepali tea shops work much like their Indian counterparts, with small glasses, fast turnover and a steady stream of regulars. On trekking routes and in cold districts, tea is frequently held in large flasks and poured on demand throughout the day. That practice changes the drink, since a flask holds heat and slowly flattens the aromatics over several hours.

Over the flame, shops that make each pot fresh are noticeably better and are also noticeably slower, which is a real trade in a cold place.

Anybody comparing cups across a trek is often comparing flask age rather than comparing recipes at all.

What travels and what does not

Nepali chiya reproduces easily anywhere, since it needs nothing more exotic than cardamom, ginger and a decent leaf. The salted butter tea does not travel nearly as well, because both the fat and the tea format are hard to source.

In the pot, substituting ordinary butter and ordinary black tea produces something drinkable that is not really the same drink. The honest position is to treat it as a preparation best encountered where it is made rather than approximated. That is true of a great many regional teas and is not a criticism of anybody attempting it at home.

Spices fade at their own pace, and a year-old tin needs more of everything.

Making chiya at home

Use a strong CTC or a robust orthodox leaf, and boil it in water with crushed ginger before any milk goes in. Add cardamom generously, and consider a small amount of the black smoky kind alongside the green if you have it.

In the pot, keep clove and cinnamon modest, since the cup is meant to read as fresh rather than as heavy and dark. Sweeten to the generous end and use whole milk, because a thin milk leaves the cup tasting under-built. Serve it in a small glass rather than a mug, since the drink is designed around a quantity you finish hot.

The takeaway

One country, two teas, and the altitude usually tells you which one you are about to be handed.

Measure it properly once, then never measure it again.