I need your support here, people. Robbi and I are having a disagreement, and perhaps you can help us settle the score.

As she often does when she is traveling near large cities with well-stocked Asian supermarkets, Seiko called us the other day asking if we needed anything. I overheard Robbi requesting “some rice vinegar, a bag of frozen gyoza, and some citron tea.”

“Citron tea?” I thought to myself. “Sounds delicious.”

When Seiko arrived with our goods, I easily identified the vinegar and gyoza, but then this strange jar appeared on the counter. It appeared to be full of really hearty marmalade.

“What’s this?” I asked, “And where is that delicious-sounding citron tea I’ve spent all afternoon looking forward to?”

Robbi urged me to take a closer look at the label, at which point I discovered the exact nature in which I’d been duped.

Robbi has recently sworn off desserts—and sugar, in general—a decision that has improved her overall health and disposition. Given her general enthusiasm for sweets, I have been somewhat surprised at the ease with which she has made the change. But now I know the truth. This whole “citron tea” racket is her covert and clever strategy for getting her sugar fix with a clear conscience. “Citron tea” is basically marmalade with a few sprigs of dried tea thrown in for good measure.

The “tea” is made by putting a heaping spoonful of the sugary goop into a cup of boiling water. Because a tiny amount of actual tea matter does, at some point, touch the boiling water, thus releasing a trace amount of “tea” into the liquid sugar explosion, the resulting substance is technically “tea” while tasting like a party in your mouth. It’s a brilliant strategy.

Those clever Koreans.

That crafty Robbler.