Every August, I make the short pilgrimage with my son to Pickathon music festival, a mere 20 minutes from my home in Portland, Oregon. We set up camp with friends and wander stage to stage hearing some of the best indie rock and roots music in the world. It's a fantasy come true. By midday or after lunch, friends begin to inquire: Teri, What tea did you bring? I always have a selection, a few greens and at least two blacks in my ruck sack. This year, after not being able to locate the matches (why are they not near the stove Gerard?), I resorted to the sun, of which there was plenty. Into my French press pot went the Indian Summer, a spicy masala chai that both kids and adults take to instantly and named after a beautiful ballad by The Doors. (If only Jim Morrison was still alive, maybe he would be showing up at the Pickathon as did one of my other favorite LA bands I grew up with- "X"). An hour or two later, there it was, ready to press and share. Once again, Music and Tea came together in the best of ways.