Flask Master

Since marrying into Mr B’s clan 23 years ago, I have assimilated many of their habits. There was a time when I was shocked by their talking over one another at dinner. I came from a ‘whist for the farm news’ kind of kitchen table, but now, I’m able to cross chat, glaze over and interrupt like the rest of them.  Similarly, I once would have been irked by Mrs B’s insistence on opening windows and letting a bit of air through the house, but I grew to like these gentle breezes. In fact, these days, with my own internal heatwaves, I let a gale flow through with every door and window opened to the max. But the number one habit I have taken on from my in-laws is their penchant for taking a flask of tea everywhere.

To be honest when I was first introduced to this carry-on, I thought it a bit cheapskate. I favoured going in somewhere nice and having food served to me, but that’s not how it’s done apparently. As regular readers will know, I am now quite the Flask Master, so my snooty nose has lowered and bent in gratitude at being introduced to this sacred ritual.

Our flask was a wedding present 23 years ago, it is stainless steel, simple but sturdy, a no-nonsense piece of kit, that has served us faithfully and constantly for almost a quarter of a century.

Instead of having to pull into a busy café and wait, you can select the most scenic location to lay out your rug and voila, lunch is ready. The first time I made up a flask was on holidays with Mr B’s parents where I thought I’d make myself useful. Having boiled the kettle and heated the flask, I began to put the teabags inside and pour water on top. Mr B Senior did a great job in hiding his horror and simply said, ‘you haven’t made too many flasks of tea before, have you?’ I fessed up and allowed him to show me the teapot method. I think of him every time I fill the flask, which means he comes into my mind regularly.

This summer the flask got great use, as well as it’s gruelling schedule of beach picnics, it went up a fair few mountains, was poured out at lakes, but it’s most spectacular outing was along the Cliffs of Moher. We treated ourselves to a few luxurious nights in a gorgeous guesthouse in Doolin. The reason we chose that one was because they had won an award for their breakfasts and I’ve always found that a good breakfast sets you up for a great day of exploring. Our room had a kettle and a Nespresso machine but I thought it best to do my usual, and bring the flask to breakfast. I summoned the courage to ask our host if I could get another pot of tea to fill our flask for our day out on the cliffs. ‘No problem’ she said ‘do you want to go down to the room and get it?’ I produced the flask from my bag and she could see that I was a seasoned tea beggar and smiled. ‘Will I put milk in for you?’ she further enquired. I then produced a smaller milk flask and she must have feared that we’d pay our bill in 5 cent coins, the last of the big spenders.

She took them both into the kitchen but returned asking if I’d mind if she descaled the flask. In all my years of tea making it’s not something I’ve ever thought about, maybe if Mr B senior had lived longer, he would have got around to teaching me that module. For a moment I was a bit wounded, seeing it a criticism of my housekeeping skills. The guesthouse was so beautifully kept I was already beginning to plan a thorough deep clean of home when I returned, so it’s possible she hit a sensitive nerve in me. Not only did both flasks come back full but they were also accompanied by a little Tupperware of fresh scones with butter, jam and cream.

We gratefully accepted everything, and took it out on our walk. The cliffs are stunning, deserved of their iconic status and we found an ideal spot for our picnic. We drank up every last drop of the tea and took a look in to see the gleaming inside which had previously been covered with the residue of 23 years’ worth of picnics. I realised that handing a stained flask to someone in the restaurant business is like bringing a table with woodworm to the Antiques Roadshow.

Like the original lesson I got from Mr B senior, I will add descaling into my flask management toolkit. We should never be too old to learn new tricks, or too proud to accept new wisdom. I hope the flask has at least another 23 years of outings in it, especially now that I know how to look after it.