Introduction
There is no tea quite like Noon Chai — the storied pink salt tea of Kashmir. Sipped morning and evening in the valley households that nestle between the Pir Panjal and Zanskar ranges, noon chai is not merely a beverage. It is a ritual of warmth, a marker of hospitality, and a quiet act of defiance against the biting Himalayan cold.
The name is simple: noon means salt in Kashmiri. But nothing about this tea is ordinary. A long, vigorous boil transforms humble gunpowder tea and baking soda into a deep crimson liquor that, when splashed with cold milk, blooms into the most enchanting shade of dusty rose. It is served in the traditional samavar — a brass or copper urn with a coal-heated chimney at its centre — and poured into small handleless cups called khous.
The Story
Noon chai has roots that stretch back centuries into the Silk Road's cultural exchange. The combination of salted tea and milk is a culinary echo shared across the Himalayan belt — from Tibet's butter tea (po cha) to Mongolia's suutei tsai. In Kashmir, the recipe evolved into something uniquely its own: lighter than butter tea, more savoury than sweet, and utterly captivating in colour.
In Kashmiri homes, noon chai is traditionally served with kulcha — a soft, pillowy bread — or alongside girda, a round tandoor-baked loaf. The tea grounds conversation, anchors mornings, and welcomes guests before any formal greeting is exchanged. To be offered noon chai is to be welcomed, truly.
How to Make
Step 1 — Build the base. Bring 4 cups of water to a rolling boil in a heavy-bottomed saucepan. Add the green tea leaves and the baking soda. Reduce the heat slightly and let it simmer for 6–8 minutes. The water will turn a deep, earthy reddish-brown — this is exactly what you want. The baking soda is the alchemy that triggers the colour change.
Step 2 — The churning. Here is the traditional secret: pour the hot tea back and forth between two vessels several times, or vigorously whisk it. This aerates the liquid and intensifies both colour and body. Kashmiri grandmothers do this from a great height for full drama, and honestly, they are right to.
Step 3 — Add the milk. Pour in the cold whole milk and the crushed cardamom pods. Bring everything back to a gentle simmer over medium heat, stirring occasionally. Watch closely as the tea shifts from brick-red to that signature dusty pink — the colour of Kashmiri sunsets over Dal Lake.
Step 4 — Season. Add the pink salt gradually, tasting as you go. Noon chai is distinctly savoury — not sweet — but the salt level is personal. A gentle floral bitterness from the cardamom balances the savouriness beautifully.
Step 5 — Serve. Strain into cups and garnish generously with crushed pistachios and slivered almonds. A tiny pinch of cinnamon on top adds warmth and visual charm.
Tips & Variations
No Kashmiri green tea? Gunpowder green tea is the closest substitute — its tightly rolled pellets release a robust, slightly smoky flavour that stands up to the long boil. Avoid delicate green teas like sencha, which become bitter.
Sweetened version: While the savoury version is traditional, some families in the valley add a teaspoon of sugar per cup. If you try this, reduce the salt slightly.
Spice it up: A small star anise added to the boil introduces a gentle anise note that complements the cardamom. A sliver of fresh ginger is also a welcome addition on cold days.
Make it ahead: Brew the deep-red tea base in advance and refrigerate. When ready to serve, reheat the base with milk — noon chai comes together beautifully at parties when the base is pre-made.