Angrboda

I was wanting to try this one when it was blended the first time, but I was woefully late to the party and when I got there it was all gone. All of it. Nothing left for me. But then after a few weeks I saw that it appeared to have been reblended because suddenly there were two pouches of it. I hurried up and bought one of them. Lucky for me Frank happened to make a tea of the week that caught my eye that day!

And so, this was this end of the pouch. It has taken us exactly three days from we opened it and until today where we say good-bye. Okay, yeah, it’s the large pot that we share, which means I use a lot of leaf, but still… Sad-face.

The dry leaves smelled like sweets. They were berry-y and tart and ever so slightly sharp and nose-stabby, but still sweet. After steeping it’s more berry and marshmallow in even quantities and quite sweet. The marshmallow standing out more in the wet aroma had me a little worried. I don’t really want hot marshmallows, see…

The flavour killed any and all concern regarding the marshmallows. It’s primarily blueberry with a smidge of marshmallow on the side. A plain honest fruit tea and right up my alley! Also, ‘Boo-berry’ is lots of fun to say!

We have really really liked this one, as is evidenced by previous mention of how quickly it’s been used up. The boyfriend had a moment of shock, I think, when I told him to say goodbye.

Imperio! Frank! Make more Boo-berry!

I knew if I started making tea noises in the kitchen, the boyfriend would get up. :D Kitties self-fed today by knocking the food bucket on the floor, so we’ve been allowed to sleep in without having our toes cut to ribbons.

This one I bought solely because of the alternative name ‘honey orchid dan cong’. It’s an attempt to zero in on that lovely oolong from Shang Tea, the one that smells like creme brulee and which, presently, I can’t remember the name of. Jade orchid something or other. Honey orchid sounded rather promising, I thought.

Secondarily, in my mind Dan Cong is indeed a classic oolong. If you ask me spontaneously to think of oolong, there are three that pops into my head immediately. TGY, Dan Cong and Da Hong Pao. Apart from TGY, I’m not too familiar with either of the two others, although I would like to be. I’ve just never explored them. I’ve had them a few times, but I haven’t explored them to the point where I can tell you what they’re like. This was to my own disadvantaged the other day when I was asked about the differences and similarities between a Rou Gui and a Da Hong Pao and was forced to tell the asker I had no clue. Loss of a chance to look smart, there. So yes, the secondary purpose to this particular purchase is also an attempt at an initial step down the road of discovery.

If this is to be a similar alternative to the Orchid Jade Something Something from Shang, then it has already failed on the aroma. It doesn’t smell like creme brulee at all. How disappointing, when one has readied one’s nose for that particular aroma. This does not really bode well for purpose number one, here.

For purpose number two, however, I get to properly familiarise myself with the aroma that it actually has. I feel it’s layered. Very initially when sniffing, it’s very floral. Not the dusty sort of floral that comes with flower scenting, but properly alive still attached to roots in the soil flowers. Along with that there is a distinct sweetness which is not really honey-y, but more sort of nectar-y. Very faintly underneath these notes, there is a woodsy, slightly earthy oolong-y aroma, and if I keep smelling the tea, it builds up and pushes the other two aromas to the background until all I can smell is the woodsy oolong.

Purpose number one, having tasted the tea, is more or less abandoned. Yeah, it’s very sweet and honey-y and all that, but it’s not… It’s just not quite there. It’s not what I was looking for. Purpose number one, we’re still searching. I had small hopes for this one, because the Shang Jade Orchid Something Something was a Fujian and this is from Guandong, which, consulting available literature, is just to the south and southwest of Fujian, so I thought conditions might be sufficiently similar. I think they are, I’m just not looking at the right kind of oolong. I will keep searching.

Purpose number two, familiarising myself, I have to say it tastes exactly like it smells. First there is floral and honey-nectar-y sweetness, and then oolong swoops in and hijacks the flavour. When it cools a bit, that honey-nectar-y business is not to be trifled with however, and it puts up a damn good fight in the background. This makes the entire flavour profile seem very thick textured and creamy, in spite of a small amount of astringency. It’s not quite caramel-y but maybe more sort of a proto-caramel. A caramel stem cell flavour, sort of.

And this brings us back to purpose number one, because hey! Now that it’s cooled a bit and I get all that floral sweetness I just mentioned? We’re suddenly a LOT closer to that Orchid Something Something Jade business, and I don’t think I will rule this out as a more easily acquired replacement after all. It’s not exactly the same, but given a little cooling time, I find it’s suddenly got a lot of the same sort of qualities that I liked in the other one. The Shang oolong has this one beat for awesomeness, certainly, but this one (purpose number two) is also very very good all in its own right.

And that post looks a bit confusing even to me. I hope some sense can be wrestled out of it.

After a workday where I didn’t even have time to eat my lunch(!), this tea has never been better.

Never.

(And if it hadn’t been for the two cups of raspberry oolong I took with me in the lab (Yes, I know. Ssshhhh!), I’m not sure I would have survived.)

This was from my recent TeaSpring order, the one that was famously held hostage by Tax & Customs for days and days on end. I’ve been a bit distracted while drinking this cup, so you’re getting a short version of it. I was also distracted when brewing it, so the short version is probably also wildly inaccurate because I forgot to set a timer while steeping so it steeped for… a good long while. About twice, I think, of how long I would have given it otherwise.

The aroma of the leaves wasn’t super strong. It was there but very mild and gentle. I thought it had a rather toasted note to it with some sweetness and something kind of floral mixed in.

The flavour is really very similar to this. This bark of cassia that TeaSpring refer to in the description is something that is used in cooking as a spice and is also called ‘Chinese Cinnamon’. I don’t think it tastes especially cinnamon-y though, but I can sort of see where they are getting that from. I can only imagine that the actual bark would be much more cinnamon-like in nature.

It also has that burnt toast note that I mentioned when I had the woodfired TGY from Verdant a little while a go. It prickles coal-y-ly ( cringe yes I know…) on the tongue and in the after taste, but is surprisingly pleasant when it doesn’t actually have anything to do with real burnt toast.

Under the current circumstances I can’t say that I’m finding it immensely interesting though. It’s a perfectly wonderful oolong, but it’s more functional than it’s interesting, if you get what I mean. Maybe when I do this properly, I’ll change my mind though.

(I suppose it would be unfair of me to hold the fact that it felt very unpleasant in my windpipe against the tea. But it did. cough )

Hey look, I’m first!

This one was half of an order and the one out of the two that I was least interested in. Mostly, it was just the blend of the week that day and I threw it in because why not? Now that I’ve got them, though, I was more curious about this one than the other one. Especially since nobody else has written about it yet, so I don’t know what to expect. (Don’t say ‘strawberry orange scone’. I may have my occasional blonde moments, but I had gathered that much.)

Anyway, the reason I decided that I might as well give this a go as well is the fact that it seems to be largely fruity. With 52teas, the fruity blends are the ones I’ve generally had the most luck with, and the strawberry and orange combination appealed to me. The scone here is less relevant. If it tastes like one, great. If not, no big deal.

The aroma of the dry leaves definitely has orange in it. It’s very pungent, almost nose-stabbingly sharp. It’s mostly orange and then I found a bit of strawberry underneath, but not much of it managed to get through the wall of orange.

After steeping it’s a far more even mix of strawberry and orange, although still mostly orange, but now I almost definitely get something that reminds me of baked goods. How extraordinary!

The flavour is again largely orange, but somehow more peel than actual fruit. That’s a shame, because I find that orange peel is often slightly bitter, and I’m getting that sort of bitterness here. It may, however, also be ever so slightly overdone on the steeping compared to my normal steeping length, so I can’t be certain it’s not a combination of the two.

I can also definitely find the strawberry and I’m rather reminded of that lovely green blend I had over the summer which was also flavoured with strawberry and orange (hence the combination’s appeal), although somewhat more mildly than in this one.

I can’t claim that I can really find the scones in this. Knowing that it’s supposed to be there, I can sort of convince myself that I can find something that reminds me of it, but had I been on my own, I don’t think I would have been able to pick it out. Like with the orange peel problem, however, this may also have something to do with the way this particular cup turned out.

I’m probably not finding it in exactly the same way that Frank had wished for his customers, but nevertheless I think I’m still going to enjoy it. I’m definitely glad I gave it a try.

And that’s the end of the Tanzania.

I have really enjoyed this tea, and to her vast surprise, so has my boss. This was actually one we bought for work. My interest in African teas was very new then, so I had to have it. My boss was sceptical because of the relatively high caffeine content. We compromised. The smallest amount of loose leaf AC Perch’s will allow you to buy from the webshop is 100g, so we bought the bag of 100g. I then divided it up into two equal portions, took one to work and kept one at home. My boss then only paid me back for half of the work-portion.

Now that it’s gone, though, I am definitely going to want to stock up on it again. As mentioned, even my boss found that she liked it a lot more than she had expected. Her own surprise was clearly audible when she told me this.

This was the last of the home portion. The work portion disappeared a long time ago. I would prefer to stock up on it at work rather than at home, I think. I found it an excellent work tea, and before you ask me what sort of qualities a work tea should have, let me tell you that I don’t know. It’s something to do with how it feels in the situation, so it’s not even something I can try to predict. We’ll see if the boss is interested in another batch of it. If not, I’ll probably get it for home.

I should totally start writing it down when people recommend me stuff that they think I would like. Because once again we have here a tea which was specifically recommended to me by a Steepsterite and I don’t have a clue as to who it was.

It was somewhat pricy so I only bought a small amount. Even if it’s the end of all awesome, at this price I think it would probably still only be a treat rather than a standard. $23 for 50 grams, I can’t afford that as a standard.

Anyway, that doesn’t mean it isn’t fun to try, though. It’s not impossible that this actually makes it all the more fun to try.

When first I poured this tea and I stood there in the tea corner, getting a column of steam right in the face, the primary, and very strong, association I had was that of pipe tobacco. Smelling cup now, I don’t really get that at all.

It has something, this tea, something very familiar. Something that I feel I ought to recognise and associate with something specific. This is not an individual note in the aroma, this is the aroma as a whole. I just can’t work out what it is, but I’m getting the clear impression that it’s something that ought to be very familiar to me and also something I haven’t experienced in a long time. This aroma takes me back, I just don’t know to where or when.

When I was a child, my grandfather smoked a pipe. Maybe it is actually a pipe tobacco thing after all.

If we try to break down the aroma a little more, there is a strong grain-y malty note in it, along with something woodsy and slightly spicy. These two notes, I sort of get the impression that they approach me simultaneously. They’re good friends, so they come up to greet me together. I can’t find any floral or pseudo-smoky notes in the aroma though, which I find slightly odd. I have to say I rather miss that note. It’s like there’s something missing.

The flavour isn’t as grain-y either as most Keemuns tend to be. The grain is there, but it’s more subdued, laying down the bottom of the flavour. On the swallow, I get a very clear caramel-y stickyness.

Then there’s a prickly, woodsy sort of flavour on top of that, and at the very top there is a very floral note. Still no pseudo-smoke. It’s 100% floral in this one.

I find this a rather flimsy tea. All the flavour notes are there and strong, but they seem to be only very loosely connected with one another, as if the entire flavour profile could fly apart at a moments notice.

It was an excellent recommendation for me to try. I certainly found it very interesting and fun and I will enjoy the rest of these leaves. I just don’t think it’s one that I’ll drink when I’m in a specific Keemun mood, because it doesn’t really embody how I prefer my Keemuns. For me, a wonderful Keemun must be smoky rather than floral and lot more grain-y than this. This is too soft-spoken, really, to be a good morning tea, and I want my Keemuns to be rather more forceful.

(In other news, I shall be taking the first of my 52teas advent calender today. I know it’s too early, but this way I’ll have the last one before we go to England. Don’t worry about spoilers, I shan’t post anything yet. Although, I did see that some people were speculating on how to minimise spoiler-risk for others, and if anybody is interested in my opinion, it can’t be done. It’s all fine to make sure to post later in the day, but for those of us in earlier time zones, our ‘later in the day’s are still your mornings and the effort is rather lost. I believe that as long as everybody just posts on the correct day or later, then it must be up to others to not visit Steepster until AFTER they’ve opened their calendars. So I will be starting early and writing my posts privately, so I can put them on Steepster later.)

SQUEAL!!!

slurp!

Together again.

(And the ransom for Tax & Customs turned out to be only half of what I had feared)

♥ ♥ ♥

Once upon a time someone, I forget who, shared a sample with me of a charcoal roasted TGY, I forget from where. I don’t think that one was aged, but I do remember that I really liked it and that I was going to do some investigation about whether it was something I could buy for myself, some shops being, as we all know, out of my reach due to geography. But then I forgot about it.

When I went to look at Verdant Tea’s site, to see what else other than the Laoshan Northern Black that was leaving half of Steepster in fits of ecstacy, I came across this one and was reminded of aforementioned charcoal roasted TGY. So obviously I had to have some.

The idea of roasting oolongs that would otherwise be on the greener end of the spectrum really appeals to me. I do generally prefer the darker oolongs, so that’s probably the reason. Here’s a funny fact. The darker end of the spectrum and the greener end, I like those. Oolong that are more halfway between the two? I just don’t find them very appealing at all. Not plain, anyway. I just can’t figure out what it’s trying to be, because to me it’s neither here nor there. The infamous Raspberry Oolong is based on one of those in-betweens, but that’s okay because it’s flavoured. The perfect oolong of this sort might be out there, but I haven’t found it yet.

But leaving that tangent, let’s return to the tea at hand. The aroma is really nice here. It’s a sort of mixture between cocoa and coal. The first association I got when I poured water on the leaves was burnt toast. Maybe it’s my affinity to smoky teas that make me really enjoy this aroma in a tea. Not so much in toast, though. It doesn’t actually smell smoky, but it sort of smells like it could be, and I find that really nice.

The flavour is really woodsy and again there is a hint of burnt toast. The note of cocoa from the aroma is still there in the flavour, but it’s not very noticable.

Actually, the flavour kind of reminds me a little of pears. There is definitely some sort of fruity sensation going on somewhere in here. It’s all juicy and not quite but nearly sweet, and it results in an aftertaste that covers every mucus membrane of the mouth. I can actually feel it on my gums! It’s sort of slightly cool and a bit prickly, a little like mint does. Not quite as heavily as actual mint, of course. Just exactly enough to be noticable.

As the cup cools, I find the cocoa comes out more and there is a little astringency. And suddenly I notice a very strong note of hazelnut. It’s right there in the front waving a big flag and shouting “I AM HAZELNUT! HEAR ME ROAR!” I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before I was halfway through the cup! I could have sworn it wasn’t there in the beginning. What sort of switcheroo magic stuff is this?

Finally, let’s come back to that burnt toast aspect, because that’s interesting. As mentioned I have a certain affinity to smoky teas, and although this doesn’t have even as much as a hint of a smoke note that I can find, I would still place it, mentally, on the outskirts of that group. It’s that burnt toast that does it. It creates the idea of smoke, but then when you look closer there’s nothing there. It’s like an optical illusion for the tongue.

I’m enjoying this, and it totally lived up to my memory and expectations from that other one I mentioned.

The real mystery, though, is this. How can burnt toast in toast be so unpleasant, when in tea it’s so nice?

I think, after what happened friday and yesterday, we all need a bit of a calming cup. The actual drama bit wasn’t particularly nice, but I appreciated the things that were brought to light afterwards. It was very informative.

So here’s my calming cup. This one came to me from Dinosara. It has blood orange, chocolate and hazelnut in it. That sounds like a rather wonderful combination, doesn’t it? I can’t believe it was allowed to sit and be almost forgotten in my cupboard. (I think it’s because of the french name. I don’t speak french, so it doesn’t stick in my head.

I shared it with the boyfriend, who thought it smelled like christmas. I can sort of see where he gets that from, but personally I think it just smells like sweets. It’s very heavy on the chocolate and hazelnut in the aroma. Like a melted chocolate bar. I’m not sure I can find any orange in the aroma, because I can’t work out if what I’m smelling is really just another aspect of the hazelnut.

With the aroma being so thick and heavy, it’s almost a surprise to take a sip and find it not having the texture of aforementioned melted chocolate bar. Instead I find the orange is coming through here on the first half of the sip and then the rest of it being all hazelnutty astringency. I’m not sure about the chocolate, though. I can’t really peg it down but I feel like it’s there somewhere. Or rather, I feel like there would definitely be a difference if it wasn’t there, if you know what I mean.

This is not nearly as sweet as I was initially expecting, but apart from the very initial disappointment about this, I have come to decide that it’s probably for the best. If it had been sweet, I think it would quickly just have become rather cloying.

As I made a large pot to share with the male of the household, I used all the leaves I had been sent. Had I not done that, I might have used the rest in an experiment involving vanilla. (Lately I find that it’s all sorts of fun adding vanilla black to… everything.)

I actually received my Verdant Tea order a couple of days ago, but then I felt a bit under the weather and in a general bad mood for a couple of days. It’s not very conducive to trying new stuff, so I saved it. This morning, after a three hour nap yesterday and a full nights sleep, I’m feeling less worn out, so I gave it a go.

I couldn’t not buy this one. At the same time I bought it with many considerations first. You see, it has been so very hyped on Steepster lately. Everybody and their grandmother has tried it and they all think it’s the best thing north of the Alps. That sort of stuff tends to make me lose interest. Hype is the reason I’ve, for example, never actually watched any of the Star Wars films in full. It’s also (part of) the reason I’ve never read the Hunger Games series and don’t really intend to. (The other reason being that any book that comes with glowing recommendation on the front from Stephanie Meyers does not exactly win points with me. I have tried Twilight. Utter tripe.) I suppose my problem is that I expect I’ll just get disappointed.

So yeah, I ended up buying this one in spite of all of the above because I found the company’s description genuinely interesting, but I am still approaching this first cup with part expectation, part nervousness, part concern, part fear of disappointment, part sceptism, part curiousity and part excitement.

The aroma of the dry leaf and the aroma just when pouring the water on are very close to one another. It’s very sweet and cocoa-y. No, not cocoa. More like chocolate. A sweet milk chocolate. I’m reminded of that choco-milk powder I used to get at my gran’s house as a child. It came in a large yellow box with a rabbit on the front. I’m not sure if she gave me that because she wanted it to be a treat or if she had got it in her head that I couldn’t drink milk otherwise… If the latter, I wasn’t about to correct her, was I? (And that stuff, by the way, looks really strange when served in a coloured glass!) So, childhood association to my gran. This tea is already well on the way to awesome!

The aroma after it has been steeping is different though. Gone is the milk chocolate sugary powder stuff, and now we’ve got something that is much more like cocoa rather than chocolate. It’s a much deeper and more complex aroma. Along with the cocoa, there is also something very grain-y and another note which I can’t really work out how to describe. It’s a sort of inbetween thing of woodsy and leathery, kind of pipe tobacco-y but at the same time, so not like that at all. On top of all that, there is a rather prominent spicy note, but I can’t work out if I think it’s a note on its own, or if it’s just another aspect of that indescribable woodsy, leathery, tobacco-y, not-tobacco-y note from before. How very difficult.

So there’s a lot going on here aroma-wise and the flavour is no different. Actually, I find it very similar to the beloved Tan Yang Te Ji ♥ (which is STILL being held hostage by tax and customs, argh!). Already here I can say that YES, this tea does indeed very much live up to all the hype. Of course, with the Tan Yang association, I might be rather biased. :) It has that same cocoa-y flavour profile, but I find it to be more grain-y than the Tan Yang. It even has that same sort of fruity aspect to it. Not any particular fruit that I can think of, just some sort of generic fruityness.

Another tea I’m reminded of in this cup is Keemun, and that’s because of how strongly the grain-y aspect is coming through. Keemuns are, for me, very grain-y and have a sometimes floral but most times pseudo-smoky aspect to them. This tea makes me sort of try to imagine a Keemun which has been stripped of that top layer. What’s left then? Grainy-ness. Keemun is another very favourite tea of mine.

This particular tea I find to be a mixture of the very best bits of two of my favourite types. The Keemun with the grain and the Tan Yang with the cocoa and fruit-y business. It’s more Tan Yang than Keemun though, which suits me fine because Tan Yang is my absolute all time favourite. And at the same time, this also strikes me as being very much its own. It may taste like a mixture of the two above, but I cannot bring myself to believe that you could blend those two and get this result. Something similar perhaps, but not the same at all.

Generally, it has a lot of what I tend to think of as ‘Fujian-ness’, this tea, but it’s not Fujian grown at all, is it? I need to consult a map and find out where in China Shandong is. Still on the coast but much further north from Fujian, bordered to the north by the Hebei province which is where Beijing is. Funny, I would have thought that with such similarity in flavour profiles they would have been a lot closer to one another. There must be some similar growing conditions in those two areas. Shandong is also just to the north-east of Anhui which is where Keemuns come from. That explains that similarity. I need to explore this area some more, I think. What else grows there?

I see no reason to faff about with points here. This is a solid 100 if ever I saw one. I’ve fallen hard and will be coming back for more.

ETA: Second steep has gone all cinnamon-y! Forget about above comparisons, this is definitely new! I’ve never met a naturally occurring cinnamon note before. (I like it a lot better than if it had been actually cinnamon flavoured too. Not really a cinnamon flavoured fan, me. Uh, as in, not a fan of cinnamon flavoured things, not me being cinnamon flavoured…)

The first time I had this, I had made it with boiling water because I had not been paying attention. Lately, based on how Kusmi’s flavoured teas are frequently better at around 90°C as opposed to the boiling 100°C, I have taken to consequently using 90°C for flavoured black teas.

The first time I had this one I noted a certain astringency, almost bitter and something I could definitely have lived without.

This time I didn’t get that astringency in any noteworthy amount, so the reduced temperature was definitely worth it. The rest of the flavour, however, was much the same.

An enjoyable cup. Bit on the flowery side for me, but otherwise quite nice. Still wish the rhubarb would come out more. I’ve had a rhubarb flavoured green, which was quite nice, but I would love to try a rhubarb flavoured black. Maybe in combination with strawberry like in this blend, only without all the flowers. I wonder if it would be like the red fruit porridge my late grandmother sometimes made when I was on holiday at their house as a child. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R%C3%B8dgr%C3%B8d)

I’ve never seen anything rhubarb flavoured that wasn’t green, though. Or, like this one, in a rather more complicated blend.

Steepsterites, as I write this it is 5.45pm where I live.

We are looking at the first cup of tea I’ve had all day.

All. Day.

It’s been one of those days, I’m sure you’ve all had them as well, where I haven’t exactly been unbearably busy, but busy enough to be occupied for the whole workday and just managing to put in a lunch break in the middle.

Add to that the fact that my colleague, who owns half part in the work stash, is not at work for a couple of days, so I’ve had nobody to remind me.

So by the time I got home and got the shopping done, I was desperate for the first touch of caffeine since yesterday evening. So, flavoured that suits the time of day? Or smoky becuase I’m desperate? How awesome that I can have both!

And so, without further ado,

pounces cup

Witness, Steepsterites, the food of the gods!

So I took half and half of Caramel and Apple, both of Kusmi Tea.

It is a well-known fact that the Caramel is a beloved favourite of mine. I procured the Apple yesterday and was somewhat unimpressed, although not completely put off or disappointed.

On a whim this fine morning, I decided to see how they would fare in a mix. Would it in fact be something along the lines of caramel apples?

The answer is a resounding YES! Yes it is. Oh my giddy aunt!

If you happen to be in possession of these two teas at any point in your life, I would strongly recommend trying them in a mix.

So I accidentally went into this shop today where they have all this here Kusmi. It was actually buy myself a different sort of treat entirely (chocolate covered almonds om nom nom) but this was in the same section of the shop, so I thought I should at least have a glance, you know? Just in case anything had changed. nod nod

Long story short, I allowed myself to be inspired. Which is strange really, because I’ve not had very consistent luck with apple-flavoured things. I’ve had things which were quite nice. Yoghurt for example is very nice with apple. As are pancakes. Jelly beans with apple not so much. Too synthetic tasting. Various tisanes with apple bits in, absolutely horrid.

I don’t know what I was thinking when I bought this. O.o

At first when I opened the tin a very apple-y aroma came at me. Then when I smelled the leaves a bit more closely, it had that apple in it still, but also, mysteriously, something almost sort of spicy. I’m afraid my immediate thought was paprika…

Obviously this doesn’t have any spices in it, but it is pretty odd. It’s the same thing after steeping, only the apple aroma is smoother and more pronounced. That funny spicy note was still there though. I had to go into the kitchen and smell an apple in order to figure out what to do with that note.

Did you know that apples smell slightly spicy when you pay attention? I didn’t know that!

Just saying something is ‘apple flavoured’ is really a bit of a problem though. There are so many different sorts of apples, and apples are one of the fruits with enormous taste variation between sorts. I tend to like Pink Lady best, and was once recommended Fuji based on that preference. I did not like Fuji at all. So in moments of Most Glorious OCD, I’m sitting here kind of wanting to know what sort of apple it’s supposedly flavoured with.

Anyway, nitpicking aside, it’s time to have a look at the flavour of this, and that’s where that spicy note comes in again.

I was really surprised by the flavour of this at first sip. The very first note, right up front and stomping onto the tongue with boots on, is something that most of all tastes dusty. The sort of dusty flavour that I get from jasmine scented teas or in some cases heavy bergamot.

What the blinking heck???

This is not something I associate with apples at all. It’s not something I associate with generic Chinese black (base tea) either. I did not oversteep, I did not use more leaf than normal, I used the recommended steeping temperature (85°C-90°C, which is what I use for ALL flavoured black). Nothing but black tea and apple flavouring is listed as ingredients. So where that is coming from I can’t for the life of me figure out. (It’s not impossible that it’s contamination from the pot, but it seems rather too much for that)

Thankfully, as it cools a bit to a more drinking friendly temperature, this off-putting phenomenon goes away. Now the apple flavour, which was only present in the background before, is coming out in spades. Spades, I tell you! Spades! Diamonds, hearts and clubs as well. The whole deck, in fact, has gone all apple-y. I’m not accustomed to this strong flavouring in a Kusmi tea. They, in my experience, tend to be a lot more subtle, but this one is certainly an exception.

And yeah, it’s still one of those spicy apple sorts. The reason I didn’t like Fuji, as I mentioned earlier, was because I thought it had a sort of bitter note to it. I wonder if this is actually the same sort of thing as was causing that initial unpleasantness for me earlier. This is just not flavoured after my particular preference in apple.

It’s really surprisingly good now that it’s more apple, less dust, even if it’s not my ideal place in the apple spectrum. I find that spicy note somewhat distracting, but I can deal with it, I think. This is probably not one I’ll buy again when it’s gone, but it’s good enough that I might decide to try other apple flavoured teas should I come across them. I definitely don’t think that these leaves are going to linger on the shelf for years untouched. They will be used.

I usually make the tea in this household. I seem to be the one drinking it the most or at least being more conscious of when I want some. So it very quickly turned into my job. For the first cup in the morning I typically make us a pot of something non-flavoured black of my own choice. If it’s flavoured it’s the Smoky Earl Grey, which I can stretch to a morning tea in spite of the flavouring on account of the smoke in it. So anyway, first cup is strictly my choice unless he requests something before I can make some.

After that I tend to ask him for preferences or show him one that I want and ask if he wants some. Sometimes I even force him to make a specific choice by asking elaborating questions about flavoured or non-flavoured or which type.

For this cup the answer was ‘something new’. Well that’s a rather wide concept when I don’t know what’s new to him. I can remember more or less what I’ve had and not had out of the collection, but I can’t remember what I’ve been feeding him. So he came out and picked one that neither of us has had before.

‘The Sacred Fujian,’ was his word choice when he found this one in the pouch basket.

So that’s what we’re having.

It smells heavily jasmine-y. So much so in fact that for the first time I’m realising that jasmine has a very lemon-y smell. This really rather too much flower for my taste normally, but at least it doesn’t smell like it’s got a bottle of perfume in it.

It’s quite flowery in taste as well, not quite to that point of tasting like dust but it’s getting there. Very grey flavour. I can’t really find the white tea underneath because of all this jasmine and and I feel a bit like I’m just sitting around drinking flowers.

I used to say that I’m not a fan of flower scented teas, but I think I’ll have start narrowing that down as I’m beginning to be able to notice some differences. I find magnolia acceptable enough and the honeysuckle yesterday was as well, although a bit dusty. I have not had super experiences with rose or jasmine, but I have had crysanthemum in a pu-erh once rather successfully, and there was also that one from Shang Tea once, the one that tasted like melons. Can’t remember what flower that was though. Tangerine blossoms, that was awesome.

But it seems that jasmine just falls in the Too Much area for me, which is typical when it’s the most popular flower to scent with. All in all, an acceptable tea, but not for me, really.

(I have previously reported that cats don’t like Lapsang Souchong. I can now reveal to the world that they find jasmine white offensive as well. Luna, on her way to join the Occupy Ang’s Lap movement, took one sniff and promptly changed her mind.)

So the boyfriend opted for the black currant bai mu dan from 52teas, but I wanted something I hadn’t tried before. I took his lead on the white though, and started looking at what I had. This is one of those samples that I don’t recall who sent to me.

Two things gives me high expectations.

1. As has been previously established, it is in my opinion nearly impossible for Shang Tea to do anything wrong. Ever. I have loved everything I’ve tried from them, even things I did not expect to love.

2. Honeysuckle. I don’t actually know anything about this or what it tastes like, but it’s got such a very attractive name.

I smelled the dry leaf before brewing and was struck by a very rough, earthy, almost grainy note which I can’t imagine could be anything other than the honeysuckle. That’s not really the sort of aroma I would expect from that name, I have to say. It reminded me a bit of sour dough. That’s not really something I find very nice I have to say, so my expectations are taken down a notch. Maybe Shang Tea can make something that doesn’t appeal to me after all.

After steeping, however, the sour dough notes are gone, and the aroma is very sweet and very honeyed. That attractive name there is beginning to show its colours. It’s also quite floral, but not super-perfumed like many flower scented teas are to me, and I can easily pick out the actual tea underneath.

It doesn’t taste like honey. It’s definitely flower-y and it’s got this sort of dusty dry flavour to it. I often get that from flower scented teas, and that’s why I’m not particularly a fan of them. Here’s it’s sort of looming in the background. Not really making itself known, but impossible to overlook. It’s the elephant in the room. Everybody knows it’s there but it’s just not talked about. Maybe it’s even slightly menacing and brooding. (I can’t tell if it’s synesthesia (mine is very mild and spotty) coming in to play here or if I’m just exhibiting a lively imagination)

Apart from that it’s quite sweet indeed, and I suppose that is the bit that has given honeysuckle its name. Although I still don’t think it really tastes of honey. It’s just sweet, but it’s not honey.If the aforementioned is the dark and brooding gentleman in the corner, glaring at the rest of the company, this note would be the lovely ladies having high tea with dainty cups, scones, clotted cream, biscuits, the lot.

There’s something quite Regency-y over this tea, actually.

It’s harder to pick out the actual tea base in the flavour than it was in the aroma. I can’t really say anything about it other than it’s there. Slightly nutty but not really making much of a spectacle of itself.

While this isn’t one I would buy for myself, I will have to see that Shang Tea has still not managed to disappoint me.

It seems like the Bailin Gongfu is a super-popular tea around Steepster these days. It warms my little Fujian-loving heart, that does.

And it’s inspiring too. And utterly disappointing when one realises there isn’t a single solitary Fujian black in the house at the moment. GASP! WHAT A HORRIBLE FATE TO BEFALL A PERSON! What is a household with no Fujian black in it? It’s truly poor, that’s what it is. This should not have been able to have happened at all.

I’ve got Lapsang, but that’s really a very different beast.

Fortunately my TeaSpring order is now in transit so I’ll only have to struggle through 7-14 days more before receiving a substantial amount of my beloved Tan Yang Te Ji and I can join you all in the Fujian black lovingness.

In the meantime, though, I have to look for something to substitute, and although this is an oolong it’s a Fujian oolong, so it’s close enough for jazz.

Oh Fujian. You are made from nom.

Oh damn and blast!

And damn.

And blast.

Last week I thought I placed a Nothing But Tea order, a quite substantial one containing among other things a Mystery Box with things they were clearing from the stocks and things they had too much of and such. I was quite excited about that one as well as getting some of the other things I had added to the order.

I think I must have missed a step though, because I was looking at my bank balance (other reason) and noticed I had still not been charged for that order at all. A little detective work followed and I can’t find as much as a shadow of that order anywhere at all. I think something must have gone wrong and I thought I placed it but didn’t actually. Perhaps a final confirmation step, or something. Unfortunately their site can’t remember the contents of the basket between visits, so… Yeah, that’s gone. I can’t remember what all I put in it now.

Shoot. Oh well. There will be other orders. Missed out on that stock clearing box, though.

In the meantime this one is nearly gone. I don’t think I’ll be re-stocking this one again. It’s good and all, but it’s not the perfect strawberry tea. I think we’ll go back to that blackberry one for a while instead, and there are still a couple other fruity teas from AC Perch’s that I want to try. I’m debating the necessity of trying their cranberry flavoured black based on the fact that I really enjoy their Late Summer blend which is cranberry and vanilla. I have a strong suspicion that I’ll end up preferring the Late Summer anyway, so I don’t know if I can be bothered to actually test it.

Say goodbye, Ang.

“Goodbye, Ang.”

sad-face

How much do I love this one?

T_________H_________I__________S_________________M_________U_________C_________H!

Normally I make this with a water temperature of about 90°C, but on a whim today I tried lowering it even further to 80°C. I’m not sure why I did that. It was just one of those things.

I was craving this one today for some reason. My day went a whole lot better than yesterday, and I just figured some truly awesome tea would be a good thing to add to it.

Actually, that’s a lie. It was the vanilla from yesterday, really, that I fancied, but then I decided to do that thing with the temperature and thought it would be better to do that with one I knew inside and out and sideways so that I could really compare the results.

The result is that 80°C is too low for me. The tea seems a bit watery and weakly compared to my usual experience, as if it has not been able to fully develop during steeping. It lacks a lot of creamy-ness that it usually displays so prettily.

Okay, then. That’s useful knowledge. 90°C really is a very good temperature.

I poured a few mouthfuls of this on the table.

Because I missed the cup.

And Charm is trying to make off with the contents of the bin.

It’s been that sort of day, really.

The Yunnans I am most familiar with are the golden ones, so this is a rather new experience for me. I may have had Dian Hong before, but I don’t think I’ve ever had it since learning the Yunnan connection, and I learned that, I expected it to be similar to all the other Yunnan’s I know. As in golden and hay-y.

But as many of you will already know, it is neither. The aroma does have that hay and spice pepper-y note that the golden Yunnans also have, but it’s not quite as grainy as they are. This has a rather more fruity nature I think, and I wonder how it would behave if one were to flavour it. Probably it couldn’t carry just any odd kind of flavouring well, but the idea strikes me as interesting.

The flavour is primarily fruity as well and somewhat astringent. I may have used a wee bit more leaf than was necessary, but it definitely has a fruity note to it. Cocoa-y as well, which isn’t a note I would normally associate with Yunnan at all. That’s more of a Fujian thing. In fact the whole thing strikes me as Yunnan-flavoured Fujian, only stronger and bolder. It has all the elements I love in Fujian black teas topped with Yunnan characteristics.

I know that this has nothing at all to do with Fujian what so ever and that it’s all in my head. But that’s the association that I get, and it gives me a sort of best of both worlds feeling about it.

I’m quite pleased with this one. I’ll have to remember to explore Dian Hong in the future.

I am on an oolong kick this week! Barely had anything else at all than oolongs. This one has been lying around for a while, I think it came from QuiltGuppy

Unfortunately it has been lying next to some fig flavoured stuff, which I haven’t dared try yet, and I thought I detected a vague trace of something figgy or date-y in the aroma of the dry leaves. The dry aroma was not generally very strong though. I had to search for it a bit in order to be able to identify it, but when I did I found it mostly wood-y and slightly cocoa-y. Perhaps just a smidge spicy too, but I can’t really agree with myself on that.

After steeping the aroma is all cocoa. Wall to wall chocolate! With nuts in. It makes me crave Toblerone, really. I’ve never been very experimenting with my Toblerone, but I’ve seen that there is a dark chocolate one, and that’s the one I want now. (Does it still have that honey almondy stuff in it when it’s not milk chocolate?) If I’m hard pressed, I can also find some woodsy undertones to the aroma, but thankfully none of that figgy business.

Flavour is a bit weak here on the first cup. I used rather a lot of leaf, and so the first steep was very short. Probably too short, as I can now tell. Mercuryhime gave me some good advice the other day of the sort that you would have thought I ought to have realised myself many years ago. Why make a whole pot each time? Why not just do a half? That way I can go through a lot more steeps without having to run to the bathroom constantly and also with growing bored with the tea and start wanting something else. The one I use when it’s just myself is one of those tea-for-one sized pots, so half of that pot makes about 250 ml. Suitable amount, I should say. Also gives me a chance to use the cup and saucer that came with the pot. :)

Anyway, as I was saying, the first steep was probably too short because the flavour is not very strong. To my disappointment it’s not so stuffed full of dark chocolate (although I still want some!) as the aroma was, but rather more wooden and earthy. The cocoa is still there, but now it’s taken a back seat to the strong wood note. It’s so wooden that it’s actually giving me a prickly feeling on the tip of the tongue. As the cup cools it becomes increasingly astringent too.

I should hope on further steepings this woodenness will calm down a bit. There is really no call for such aggression. At this point I am not super impressed.

Second steep is much like the first, only with a fuller flavour experience. As there is no real difference to be found, I shan’t document it further.