The host pours the tea from high up - sometimes half a metre above the glasses. The long fall makes a little crown of bubbles form on top of each cup. The higher the pour, the prouder the host. Children often learn how to pour by practising with cold water and empty teapots until they don't spill.
There is a quiet etiquette around tea. The first cup is meant to be 'gentle as life' - light and refreshing. The second is 'strong as love' - bolder, more steeped. The third is 'bitter as death' - very strong, only for grown-ups. So a host pours three rounds, and the taste changes each time.
Mint tea is everywhere in Algeria. In homes, it is served all day. In cafés, men gather in the afternoon to drink small glasses of tea and talk for hours. In the desert, Tuareg families brew tea over little metal stoves under the stars - in the Sahara, mint tea is the same as a campfire.
The fresh mint is the secret. In Algerian markets, the mint is grown in big bunches with long stems and lots of leaves. Whole bunches go into one pot. The kitchen smells of mint as soon as you put the kettle on, and the smell can be picked up half a street away.