Casablanca is one of my favorite movies. It has been since I was little, when I'd watch the film with my father, a man who probably still knows all the lines. He'd sigh over Ingrid Bergman ("Now that was a woman") while I slowly developed a crush on Bogie. I'm still holding out for a man who can make a bow tie look so sexy, and I'm still partial to anything I can associate with the romance of the film. I'm explaining this because only such a deep seated nostalgia would prompt me to pay $22.50 for a canister of tea.