DELHI — Step inside Tay Tea at 84 Main Street, Delhi, and you’re met with something that feels part Persian tearoom, part sensory greenhouse, part living memoir. You may arrive as a customer, but by the time Nini Ordoubadi finishes pouring you a fragrant cup of Persian Rose — black tea blended with rose petals grown on her farm in East Meredith, borage, and cardamom — you’re something else entirely. A guest. A friend. A fellow traveler through time, taste and story.
“This is the little black dress of my collection,” Ordoubadi says, holding the steeped amber liquid up to the light. “Everyone loves this one.”
Tea as Biography
Born in Iran, raised in the spirit of ancient Persian hospitality, and trained as an interior designer in New York City, Ordoubadi didn’t plan to build a business around tea. “It came to me in a dream,” she says. “I woke up one day and realized I couldn’t buy another sofa for someone else. I wanted to make something beautiful, but meaningful — something that would connect people.”
She credits her great-aunt, a gardener and tea blender back home in Iran, and her great-grandfather, a prime minister and hobbyist herbalist, as muses. “They blended for the joy of it. I turned it into a business because I wanted to reach more people. That’s my superpower: connection.”
Ordoubadi started Tay Tea 22 years ago, first in New York City, then in Andes, eventually moving to a tucked-away location in Delhi. In December, she opened her new flagship space on Main Street — her most ambitious and accessible yet.
Designing for the Senses
Inside the shop, the air is perfumed with rose and mint. Tin canisters line the walls, each labeled not only with ingredients but their succession of launch. This is no branding flourish; it’s autobiography.
“People ask me, ‘What are these dates?’ I tell them, ‘These are the babies.’ Each tea marks a point in time, a chapter in my story.”
Moroccan mint — or as the Berbers (also known as Imazighen or Amazigh — the indigenous people of North Africa) call it, “Berber whiskey” — is steeped with fresh spearmint, poured high from the glass candle flame heated kettle in a nod to North African custom. “In Morocco, only the men pour the tea, but I told them, ‘Not in my country.’”
Tea as Public Service
At Tay Tea, brewing is performance and instruction. “I teach people how to make the teas, show them it’s something they can do at home. I don’t keep secrets.”
The space is designed not only to sell but to gather — a salon in the truest sense. “I hold space for everyone,” she says. “This isn’t just for tourists or wealthy weekenders. I’m part of this community. My husband and I have lived here for 20 years.”
Ordoubadi blends herbal teas with medicinal purpose — “Just Breathe” for respiratory wellness, “Healthy Gut,” and soon, “Immune Boost,” inspired by a friend’s cancer journey. “It’s not just about flavor. It’s about healing — of the body, the heart, the soul.”
Beyond the Cup
The shop also carries a curated fashion line, a passion project that mirrors her approach to tea: intuitive, joyful, personal. “Every woman has the capacity to be beautiful. You just have to see her. That’s what people want — to be seen, to feel good.”
The fashion, like the tea, becomes a tool for connection. “Customers become friends. They tell me their stories. They linger. They heal.”
A Garden for the Community
Relocating from northern to mid-Main Street has meant more than foot traffic. It has given Ordoubadi a platform to turn her personal philosophy into a kind of public service.
“This is not just a shop. It’s a sanctuary. A playground. A public living room,” she says. “I didn’t want to just sell something. I wanted to share something. And I needed space to do it,” she said.
The leap was financial, emotional — and intentional. “My husband jokes that I work too much. But this isn’t work. This is my life.”
At Tay Tea, tea is poured. Stories bloom. The mint is crushed fresh. And the ritual continues — one guest, one garden, one cup at a time.
For more information visit taytea.com
