How long is 140 years?
It is long enough for an island to change hands, to rename some of its streets, to welcome generations of children who will grow up, raise their own, and become grandparents. It is long enough for roads to be paved and re-paved, for languages to shift.
And yet, in the hills where La Maison Corson’s tea was first planted, some things have stayed remarkably still.
Rolling. Drying. Blending. Tasting.
The gestures are the same today as they were in 1886.
A journey that began elsewhere
In the late nineteenth century, a young Mauritian named Jules Corson set off to study tea cultivation there, a craft already centuries refined in Asia, and almost unknown at home. He learned patiently: the rhythm of the plants, the care of the soil, the long art of transformation from leaf to cup.
When he returned, he carried more than knowledge. He carried Assam seeds. And a conviction that these plants, given the right hands and the right land, could take root in Mauritius.
In 1886, the first five acres were planted at the Jardin Expérimental. The name itself says everything: a garden of experiments. A beginning. A hypothesis about what this island could produce.
That hypothesis, carefully tended, became a heritage.
The craft that time does not touch
Step into our factory today, tools have evolved, some processes are faster, some more precise. But the essence, the attention, the patience, the sensory judgment remains exactly what it has always been.
Tea-making is not a mechanical act. It is a language of small decisions. When to harvest. How long to wither. How firmly to roll. When the aroma is ready. When to stop, when to continue, when to taste again.
Behind every cup of Corson tea are decades of this kind of learning.
A tea woven into daily life
140 years is long enough for a tea to stop being a product and start becoming something closer to a presence.
In Mauritius, Corson tea is served at breakfast, in offices, at roadside stands, at family tables, in the homes of strangers welcoming a guest. It is the familiar cup in the morning. The pause between two tasks. The gesture offered to a friend who has just sat down.
This kind of belonging does not happen overnight. It is built slowly, through daily repetition, through people who, for whatever quiet reason, chose this tea and kept choosing it.
One of those stories reached us recently through our latest episode series. We spoke with Maraz, a Mauritian street food vendor, who has been serving Corson Golden Pekoe to his customers since 1947. Seventy-eight years. One blend. A quiet trust, renewed with every cup he pours.
Maraz’s story is not unusual, and that is precisely what makes it meaningful. Across the island, in countless small and unseen ways, Corson has become part of how Mauritians gather, work, welcome, and rest. A thread that runs through the ordinary hours of ordinary days.
One Maison, many voices
Today, as La Maison Corson opens its next chapter, the same craft flows into three distinct universes.
Corson
Our historic soul. Warm and familiar, the tea of everyday Mauritian life.
Planty
Our modern, nature-inspired spirit. Infusions that celebrate the island’s botanical richness, rooted in local heritage and crafted for today.
Théière des Îles
Our souvenir collection. Delicate blends for moments of quiet celebration and thoughtful gifting.
Three identities. One house. One shared inheritance of knowledge, soil, and care.
Toward the next century
Every leaf harvested this season will become someone’s morning cup next year. Every young worker learning alongside a seasoned taster is tomorrow’s savoir-faire. Every choice we make writes the next chapter of a story that has always belonged, ultimately, not to us, but to the people who drink it.
Since 1886, our purpose has remained simple: to bring people together over a cup of tea.
That is what we have done for 140 years. It is what we intend to keep doing, one cup at a time.