The boiling water has barely touched the calyces before the teapot turns a deep garnet. This colour comes from the fleshy sepals of the hibiscus, the part of the flower that encloses the fruit in Hibiscus sabdariffa, a mallow of warm climates. It is these sepals, not the corolla, that have been steeped for centuries.

Ombelle offers these whole flowers, organically grown, from Burkina Faso, Nigeria and Egypt. They recall the lands of bissap, which West Africa drinks sweetened and very cold, and of Egyptian karkadé, served as readily hot as cold.

Dry, the crumpled calyces smell of candied red fruit. In the cup, the clear liquor opens on a frank tartness, with no added roundness: redcurrant first, then cranberry, followed by a clean finish that refreshes and invites the next sip. No flavouring and no other plant: the flower, alone.

Free of caffeine, the flower suits the morning as well as the evening. Lovers of acidity take it plain; others soften it with a thread of honey. In summer, prepare it hot, let it cool, then pour it over ice with a few fresh mint leaves: the carafe takes on the glints of stained glass. It holds its own against a Breton shortbread, a strawberry salad, or a dark chocolate fondant.

For 50 cl of water, allow between 6.5 and 9 g of calyces, which corresponds to 13 to 18 g per litre. The water must boil vigorously, at 100 °C; let it steep for at least five minutes and at most ten. The longer it steeps, the more the acidity asserts itself. Then store the calyces in a box that closes well, away from light and all moisture.