Aparajita, karkade, manzanilla

Everything we sell has been drunk for longer than any tea company has existed. The names tell the story better than we can.

Aparajita — Sanskrit for "the undefeated" — is one of the old Indian names for the butterfly pea flower. The vine grows across South and Southeast Asia, where the blossom has long been both offering and refreshment: in Thailand it is nam dok anchan, a blue welcome drink; in Malay kitchens it dyes rice indigo for nasi kerabu. The colour that startles people on Instagram has been ordinary household magic in Asia for centuries.

Karkade is what hibiscus is called along the Nile, where it has been served hot and cold — at weddings, after meals, against the heat — for generations in Egypt and Sudan. The same crimson calyx crossed the Atlantic and became Mexico's agua de jamaica, the tart ruby cooler sold from street stalls. Two continents arrived independently at the same conclusion: this flower is best drunk in quantity.

Manzanilla, "little apple," is the Spanish name for chamomile — an echo of the Greek khamaimēlon, "earth-apple," for the scent the small flowers release when you brush them. It is among the oldest recorded infusions in the Mediterranean world, the default answer to "can't sleep?" in a dozen languages before pharmacology had a word for it.

And moringa needs the least introduction at home: native to the foothills of northwest India, eaten as leaf and pod across the subcontinent for as long as anyone has written things down.

We didn't invent any of these cups. We just gave them hours.