What?

The Tea Maker from Sage, by Heston Blumenthal (sageappliances.co.uk, £199.99), is a kettle containing a perforated steel cradle, magnetically clipped to an interior shaft, which submerges tea leaves in boiling water on a programmable cycle.

Why?

It’s perfect for tax avoiders. Or anyone who’s ever got off on a technicali-tea.

Well?

Fancy a cuppa? This brew dog from Blumenthal aims, with trademark overprecision, to take guesswork out of the equation. “How do you know HOW HOT & HOW LONG?” demands the box, like a neurotic, overcompensating lover. It controls optimal temperatures and steep times for green, black, white, herbal and oolong tea at variable strengths, with further customisations possible. Do we want this level of automation? For many, the making of chai is a quasi-spiritual ritual – outsourcing to scientific calibration may not be their cup of qi. 

Also, there’s the name. In every workplace, the tea maker is the lowest rung of the ladder. They may as well have called this device “Jamie the work experience”. Surely the older kitchen gadgets, who have been here longer, will dump demeaning tasks on it. (“Jamie! It’s Gordon the pressure cooker. I’m in meetings all day – be a star and pick up my dry cleaning?”) 

As you’d expect, the Tea Maker is eager to please. The readout tracks ascending temperature and keeps tabs of how much post-brew time has elapsed, and there’s a keep-warm function. The draw, though, is the steeping basket, which lowers and raises loose-leaf tea into hot water on a cycle. It’s utterly hypnotic: an amphibious leviathan rising from the depths of my assam, sinking back again like a U-boat. I could watch it rise and fall for hours as it darkens the water, appearing and disappearing like hope in the darkness, like love in a lifetime. 

Unlike those things, however, no one needs this. It is essentially a kettle you boil tea directly into, which is barmy. Switching from black to white tea necessitates scrubbing the interior and cleaning the basket. To continue the Jamie metaphor, the work put into training and cleaning up after him exceeds the utility he provides. That’s a stark view of interns and tea-making. In fact, it’s such a calculating criticism, Heston himself would be proud.

Redeeming features?

Attractive, well made. I like that it’s a fanciful item with such a meat-and-potatoes name, like a unicorn rebranded as a sharp horse.

Counter, drawer, back of the cupboard?

In the corner, filing receipts and rearranging stationery. 2/5