The discovery of this new-to-us cooking method was a fluke. I had a terrible sinus cold and was in McLean’s, searching the tea shelves for my favourite comfort beverage, Taylors of Harrogate Earl Grey green tea. In my rheumy state, I couldn’t seem to find it, so I grabbed a pretty grey box with a comforting sounding label: Lapsang Souchong. My head felt soothed already.

Home again, I put on the kettle and opened the box; I was quickly set back by the strong, dirty-ashtray aroma. Oh, God! Was this to be another one of my impulse purchases that would end up in my pantry alongside the equally adorable and colourful robin’s egg blue tin of Autumn Tapestry Red tea that had never been opened, or that cheery green and orange box of Morocco tea with absinthe that I had unfortunately opened and just as quickly closed? (I hadn’t noticed the “slight bitterness” description on the box.) If I had taken the time to read the front of this newest tea package, I would have seen quite clearly: “A distinctive tea with a unique smoky taste.”

Lapsang Souchong is a black tea.It begins like other black teas, but after the initial drying and oxidation, the fermented leaves are pressed into bamboo baskets and hung over smoky pine fires to absorb its notorious tarry flavour.

One reference describes it as “possibly the most famous undrunk (sic) black tea in existence.” You either love it or hate it. Its flavour and aroma are described alternately as distinctive and assertive (by lovers) or bitter and overpowering (by haters.) It was once known as a gentleman’s tea, best served alongside single-malt scotch and a good cigar; certainly not the stuff to remedy a stuffy nose.

As I was about to stash away the latest addition to my shelf of many mistakes, a light went off in this flu-fogged brain; I remembered seeing recipes for tea-smoked chicken. Could this be that tea? And, even more astonishing, would I be able to find any of those recipes now!

An afternoon spent thumbing my old food magazines and cookbooks, over a hot cup of Earl Grey tea, and a few minutes “Googling” E-magazines, produced a wealth of recipes for Lapsang Souchong smoked everything.

There were several variations on this traditional Chinese cooking method, so I picked the most common one, and the one that I had the ingredients for. I was going to smoke a small fryer, but you can do the same with chicken parts.

The initial step is to marinate the meat overnight with a rub of rice wine, sake, or scotch, coarse salt, pepper, and fresh ginger, rubbed inside and out. Before smoking, the chicken must be cooked. The recipes suggest poaching, steaming, or even microwaving, but I roasted mine in the oven. (It’s a boiled chicken food-smell thing I have.)

Line a wok or Dutch oven with a double layer of foil, large enough to hang over the edge. On this, spread loose tea leaves—I know I shouldn’t have to say this, but if you only have bags, empty the tea out of the bags—, brown sugar, broken cinnamon sticks, a few star anise, cloves, and a ½ cup of any kind of uncooked rice. Place a rack over this (I used my cake cooling rack) and set your cooked chicken on this. With another large piece of foil, make a tent and firmly seal the bottom foil to the top. With this in place, you should be OK for the smoke detector!

On high heat, cook the chicken until you can smell sugar burning.  This should take about 10-15 minutes. I decided that the sugar was more about indicating when the stuff was done than about lending flavour to the chicken. The uncooked rice, which isn’t in all recipes, is probably to slow down the burning and distribute the smoke more evenly; you don’t eat it.

Carefully open the sealed package; something you might consider doing outdoors. You can also do the whole thing on the barbecue.

The flavour was indescribable. Well, OK, it was smoky and exotic. The meat was so yummy that Jordan and I demolished the entire bird in one sitting.

Some recipes recommend using a wok with a tight fitting lid, turning the chicken over after 10 minutes so that it browns and smokes on both sides. I would definitely consider doing this outdoors, unless you are like an old friend of mine who had her new kitchen designed with a separate, well-ventilated “wok” room. (She married a Chinese fellow.)

Tea-smoking would be fun to try on any number of foods, from salmon to corn on the cob. There are several other ways to impart the smoky flavour of Lapsang tea to foods. A rub can be made by finely grinding the tea leaves with salt, peppercorns, thyme, and cumin. This could be used on pork or beef. A strong tea can be made from the leaves to be added to shrimp or chicken stir-fries or used as the poaching liquid for mussels or fish. A paste made from the steeped leaves and concentrated tea would give that “hickory smoked” flavour to your favourite barbecue sauce or brown beans recipe.

A favourite appetizer of mine is whole edamame pods, steamed and seasoned with sea salt. You can grind a few tea leaves with sea salt to make a smoky salt to season the beans.

Other teas such as Earl Grey and Jasmine can also be used for tea-smoking for a more delicate, perfumy flavour. This would be good for fish and seafood.

Even Jordan is beginning to see the possibilities. Could it be that Lapsang Souchong Braised Beef Ribs will become a new Stampede classic?