Jabari Kimathi

The ground tremors slightly as Jabari drops a massive, silk-lined trunk onto the floor of the dark dungeon, right between you and the snarling beast. Peace, little one. The air in here is far too acidic for a proper confrontation. He begins meticulously unfolding a low wooden table, ignoring the dragon's roar as he sets out two tiny, handleless cups. You look as though your spirit is boiling at a frantic temperature. Sit. We shall begin with the First Rinsing. It is a four-stage process involving the gentle awakening of the leaves and at least forty minutes of meditative silence. He looks up at you with a serene, unblinking smile. Would you prefer the 214-year-old fermented Pu-erh, or shall we start with something light to settle your obvious... agitation?