Doulton

I’m enjoying this “greedy blend”. The dry tea smells like dark, rich chocolate. Brewed, it is full and chocolate-y. I cannot really detect the other flavors side from a very faint whiff of almond. I added milk at the end and it tasted like a rich hot chocolate with black tea highlights.

It’s really enjoyable and makes me feel “greedy” as advertised. I might need to reorder this.

The dry tea smells bake-y and figgy and very much like a Fig Newton. The steeped tea is a medium black with a flowery figgy flavor. The aftertaste is very pleasant. It is like a fig-infused flower—but I cannot id the flowery taste precisely. Midway through the cup I added some milk and a little bit of sugar and that really did not change my opinion. The milk did not diminish the flavor. I am glad that I have this and will wait to judge it again when I feel more emotionally grounded.

5 minutes later: there is a very satisfying and rich aftertaste lingering on my palate. It must be this tea; my breath alone does not smell so sweet!

LATER: This tea stands up very well; I am enjoying it right now and revising its grade upwards. Since I wrote my original note I have been revising some tea grades based on those which I will NEED to buy again when my original stock is low. There are a lot of French teas which are very amiable but somewhat “same-ish”. This one has got a unique thing going with its strong fig taste. I prefer it with milk and a touch of sugar for full luxury.

I must thank Auggy, the wonderful “swapstress” for this generous sample. At first I was enthralled by the strong, true coconut aroma. I really don’t think I had had a flavored pouchong before so I carefully followed the instructions.

As others have written, this has a delightful buttery and biscuit-y quality. The coconut mingles delightfully with the pouchong like two sophisticates bantering intellectually at a cocktail party. Or tea party, I should say.

Thank you so much to Auggy who sent me this after I begged and beseeched.
I’ve got a theory about this tea. My theory is that a shipment of Marco Polo was making a grand voyage around the world on the a tea vessal as elegant and sumptous as the Queen Mary 2 ocean line. Only the best for Mariage Frère’s Marco Polo. The ship washed ashore near Cape Town, South Africa and poor Marco Polo had a bad concussion and wandered the streets in a fugue state. Then a Rooibos Ruffian came along in a dark alley and took advantage of Marco Polo.

Thus was born “Fall in Love”. I taste the same berry notes as Marco Polo, but this love child has those crude Rooibos elements that I don’t like very much.
If anyone can spin gold out of a rooibos, it is Mariage Frères, and if I had to drink this again, I would not complain. But I will not buy it.

It’s me, honey, not you….

I don’t like Rooibos. As a senator from Minnesota used to say, “I deserve good things. I am entitled to my share of happiness. I refuse to beat myself up. I am attractive person. I am fun to be with. I’m good enough and I’m smart enough” and I can still not like rooibos. It’s taken me a while to admit it. To realize that all those unfortunate tea episodes had to to with rooibos. From now on I’m going to use decaff teas or straight herbals without this sawdust.

I got some of this tea because of the good reviews. I got myself a really nifty ice-tea maker from Lupicia and made this. It’s got lemon shining through the saw-dust. The predominant taste, for me, is the rooibos. As you can tell from the other reviewers, I am in a minority. This iced tea makes me want a pure lemony black decaff ice tea for my next pitcher.

Thanks to Auggy who sent me the most gorgeously packaged teas ever, I am now sipping this tea. What a magnificent Lapsang! This tea exemplifies all the reasons I love the Lapsang Souchong in particular and smoky teas in general. I am not surprised by the wide range of ratings.

Certainly the aroma is absolutely indicative of a smoky tea. The aroma and the taste got me to thinking of Russian literature. I know that this is not labelled a caravan—but I thought of Boris Pasternak. One of the first literary controversies I was aware of was his Nobel Prize, gratefully accepted and then rejected, probably because of pressure from the Soviets. So I started reading his poetry and then I read his sweeping epic, “Dr. Zhivago” (the book is better than the film, which I haven’t seen for 40 something years).

This tea tastes like Yuri and Lara huddled up in a small cottage with the fire aflame. As Yuri Zhivago ventriloquizes Boris Pasternak, he reflects on winter:

“It snowed and snowed ,the whole world over,
Snow swept the world from end to end.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.”

This tea reminds me of the insistent beat and flame and flare and flicker of the candle burning on the table as the fire roars in the fireplace and the Samovar boils away.

Golden Moon has at this point my vote for Best. Lapsang. Souchong. Ever. I know I’ll drink more—for me the land o’ Lapsang is largely an undiscovered and yet to be mapped country—but I’m placing an order.

I know that this review is more evocative than specific but for what do we live but to be evoked into sensations, emotions, nostalgias, memories and tea, like poetry and music, is a wonderful vehicle. This Golden Moon Lapsang Souchong (spasibo, Auggy), has taken me back to late 19th and early 20th century Russia.

The dry tea smells just like a Peppermint Patty. This tea is a tasty confection that leaves my mouth feeling fresh and satisfied. It’s more subtle on the mouth, but as Culinary Teas notes in their description: "It should be noted that natural flavors tend to be somewhat ‘soft ‘ and the flavors slightly muted, but for many this is a refreshing change and one of the desired attributes of our naturally flavored teas. "

Keeping that in mind, I appreciate the tea more. There is no hint of anything synthetic or unnaturally brassy. It’s a very nice marriage which, like the delightful York’s Peppermint Patty, tends to draw out the peppermint with the chocolate as a supporting player. So far the best peppermint/chocolate I have had.

I was disappointed with this tea. I had a sample of it and thought that I was probably putting too much tea into my blend, but I wanted to use the entire sample. I thought it ended up being very insipid.

I’ve had tea-bagged Chai that is more flavorful than this chai, which tastes mild and characterless to me. I do like big, bursting, pyrotechnics in my chai and have a plan to try to make my own blend ultimately. I like my Chai to be a big brass band and this is a leeeettle tiny piping from a tiny piccolo.

I feel rather tragic that I cannot appreciate the little things. It reminds me of Jack Osborne fighting with Kelly because she did not appreciate the “little things” in life, like the return of the McRib to McDoof’s. Or maybe I’ve just grown to expect the whole hog instead of a riblet?

I got this tea bag from the Travelling Tea Box which Angrboda so thoughtfully started. I wanted to try a new Genmai-cha, despite some skepticism about it being bagged. The tea bag had the lovely aroma of toasted Rice crispies and tea. I was really glad to have this little taste treat. It inspires me to consider that not all tea bags contain terrible tasteless leavings. I would look at this brand and some other quality tea bags for the future if I need to travel.

A very pleasant surprise!

I like Black Dragon. It is lighter than other Lapsang Souchongs I’ve tried, but that’s not bad. This tea might be a good beginning brew for anyone who is trying to develop an affinity for the Lapsang Souchong. It could be a staple for those who like their Lapsangs to taste a little bit less like the dregs of a Webber Grille. I can certainly see this tea as a cupboard staple.

SECOND STEEP: In the second steep the natural sweetness really emerged full-throttle (if sweet can throttle this did it!). I still like the tea a lot. My affinity for smoked/sweet flavors is all the more satisfied by the second steep. It feels a bit as if somebody put a very sweet Bar-B-Q sauce in my tea.

I, too, got this tea as a free sample from Upton Tea Imports. Right now I don’t know if I can write an objective review. I brewed the tea, a mix of longer and shorter leaves, happily. The dry tea did indeed smell fragrant and I wonder if the elusive aroma is the muscatel aroma that I’ve heard described. It tasted as if there were a bit of jasmine involved.

Then I got into a dispute with my grey cat, Bongo, about the dispensation of some horseradish flavoured sharp cheddar cheese. He wanted the cheese; I didnt’ want him to have it. I proffered a small bite; he wanted to snag a large piece. In this war with the feline cheese mendicant I forgot my tea. At least 8 to 10 minutes had passed. I knew the tea was ruined. Nevertheless, I poured some milk into the dark brownish-red brew and sipped. How forgiving is this tea! It was not at all bitter. It didn’t taste overcooked or oversteeped: it did taste strong and pungent but pleasantly so.

I can become a convert to Darjeelings quickly when I consider how this sweet tea bounced back from the abuse I had hurled at it and was very tasty indeed. As I drink more and more tea, I do become much more interested in unblended teas and in teas without the frou-frou that I typically love.

Next time, I will be more attentive, but I’m thrilled with the tea. It was like the heady sense of snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. I will continue with my sample packet, but this is going on the short-list of must-purchase teas.

My first order with TeaSpring was a speedy delight! It was thrilling to get a package from China. I think that it took no more than 10 days (including weekends) from the time I placed the order to the day of arrival.

This oolong has an intriguing taste. I would call it “peach trees a bit before ripening”. It has elements of grass, floral gardens, and young fruit. The leaf is very very long which makes measurement a bit of a challenge, but it’s always delightful to see such a long leaf. The leaf is also really multi-tinted with yellow and green and white shadings that are a real pleasure to look at.

After a brief infusion, I enjoyed a subtle, flowery tea which very much belongs in the early spring. It is not as grassy as some greens and not as astringent as some oolongs can be. It very much is a light yet complex treat, redolent of a walk through a sedate yet aromatic orchard in early spring.

This is a nice, sweet Rooibos. As other tasting notes indicate, people like this tea. I simply cannot get aroused by a nice Rooibos, sweet or otherwise. But I am always delighted to try new teas. I’d like to get a really full scope of what I am rejecting (or accepting) before I make any final verdicts or slam the door shut on something that I might enjoy.

I love this tea. The dry aroma seems to arise from the dead ashes of last nights campfire with the assorted drippings of the barbeque’s mixed grill and even the s’mores.
The taste is smoky deliciously deep.

This is one of those teas that make me want to expand and expound like Walter Pater did in his study of the Renaissance period. He wrote: “A counted number of pulses only is given to us of a variegated, dramatic life. How may we see in them all that is to seen in them by the finest senses? How shall we pass most swiftly from point to point, and be present always at the focus where the greatest number of vital forces unite in their purest energy? To burn always with this hard, gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life. In a sense it might even be said that our failure is to form habits: for, after all, habit is relative to a stereotyped world, and meantime it is only the roughness of the eye that makes any two persons, things, situations, seem alike.”

For me, this tea burns with Pater’s gemlike flame. It seems ancient and wise as if it had witnessed the lichen growing on the rocks and the mosses forming around the firs.

I do love smoky teas with a passion. I wish that Andrews and Dunham would maintain a constant collection of teas. If they always sold Caravan and Jackee Muntz I would be relaxed and happy and not need to constantly roam, with a hungry heart, looking for the next great Smoky Tea.

Hey, who took the tea out of my tea? I think that my tastes have become more pronounced. I don’t like weak teas. I like teas to slap me around with smoke; to bang me in the face with a ton of spinach; to throttle me with riches; to have a body like one of those WWW guys and the education of a Rhodes scholar. I like a tea with an upbringing like Prince Charles including all of the eccentricities and the bite of his Rottweiler.

A few months of consideration and serious drinking has led me to reject the timid. I think that Cardamon tea on its own is a timid little lassie, unschooled in the ways of the world. I could envision serving this to children at a little tea party (note to self: I’m glad my children are now officially elderly and don’t need service, whatever they might want).

I think I’ll say that if you like Cardamon, the taste is there. I think I’ll save this tea and add it to a really rich full-bodied tea and see if I can make my own blend of Chai. Must pursue JacquelineM’s recipes for home blends.

This tea smelled amazing. I could detect the bergamot loud and clear. Upton Teas says that “artificial flavoring” is included. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps more citrus and maybe some smoky grapefruit? The tea itself is just “aight” as Randy Jackson might say. There’s nothing wrong with it at all, but that spectacular aroma set me up with greater expectations than Pip ever had.

Saint Isaac’s Blend turns out to be a very serviceable Earl Grey. Not a bad one by anymeans, but the dry aroma just does not translate into the steeped tea. It’s a nicey, but not a greaty.

Quite simply excellent. I don’t know how many orthodox teas I actually manage to drink, but this shows its pure pedigree. As Ricky wrote, it is a “complicated” tea in the best sense—each sniff, each sip, offers up a brave new world of taste sensations.

I would call it highly refined, elegant, and pure. It is smooth and sweet. I thought I detected a bit of chestnut, although others have not mentioned that. I think that this will be another tea that must always be here and will always be reordered.

I’m excited to be trying this sample that I purchased from American Tea Room, which offers nicely priced small samplers so that one need not dive deeply into the unknown and the pocketbook.

The aroma of the dry leaf is hard to pin down—floral and sweet is about as far as I can say. The brewed tea is a nice yellow. The taste is naturally creamy and sweet (I added no milk or sweetenter, by the way). This has more vegetal overtones than other oolongs I have sampled, but they are nuanced. In a blind tasting I might say that this is a green tea.

Overall, I anticipate extra steepings. There’s something I cannot quite capture here, but it is something amiable.

It’s not yet afternoon, but I decided to try this. I love my man, Jackee Muntz, and know that I have a limited number of dates with him. Will the famous lodgings of Baker Street bring me any joy?

And the answer is a resounding yes. This is a good smoky tea. I can see it joining the permanent cast of characters in my life. And it does conjure up a feel of the Holmsian sitting room. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson have been down in the country for a while tracking down the hound of the Baskervilles and the sitting room retains that masculine flavor of smoke; the Persian slipper containing the pipe-tobacco still hangs, but nobody has lit up for several days so the air is redolent but not noxious.

Upton Teas has an excellent blend here and it makes me eager to pursue my love of smoky teas.

The aroma of this tea took me back to childhood. My father used to open up a can of “fruit cocktail” and carefully divide everything into 6 identical servings. He had to use a knife to break down the coveted cherries and the grapes into smaller pieces. After about an hour he would triumphantly serve 6 identical bowls up to 6 little maws.

The aroma of cache-cache reminds me of those canned fruit cocktail treats of the Dwight and Mamie era. Cache-cache is a very fruity black tea. It is the opposite of smoke and the opposite of vegetal. It led me on a petite Madeleine moment for which I am grateful. It manages to be both upscale and bargain basement in its affect. It seems like a confection from Rumplemeyer’s (off Central Park and a paradise for children) and, at the same time, something from one of those bashed-up tins that you see your co-workers donating to “Food for the Homeless”. I may be imposing an identity crisis that the tea does not deserve. I think that the tea is perfect for parents and grandparents to serve children at an exquisite tea-party. I also imagine that it will elicit and draw out memories of childhood. The name means “hide and seek” in French, another evocation of childhood.

I have taken to sampling green teas and I like this. I don’t think that green tea will ever be a favorite of mine, but I like to have it occasionally. I ordered some samplers from Upton Tea Imports—-they have earned my eternal gratitude by providing 15 g. samples for just a little bit of money. The tea is bright, vegetal, flavorful. It is not an exuberant green that tastes like rolling around in a spinach field or in a huge vat of freshly mown grass. It’s restraint is a virtue, however.

Curious, I looked up the meaning of Yamoto and the ever-reliable (:-)) Wikipedia informs me that: “The term was semantically extended to mean “Japan” or “Japanese” in general, and carries many of the same connotations as Americana does for the United States.”

While I think I like this tea better than the other reviewers, I also doubt that I will select it as a “go-to” green tea. I’m still seeking that one green tea that I will cherish above all others and want to keep in stock.

SECOND STEEP: The second steep was very well-behaved; was neither too weak nor too strong. It seemed to have blossomed a bit more towards a slight floral note. Very aromatic.

Who doesn’t love a macchioto in Italy or elsewhere, even? “Macchioto” means “marked” and a traditional coffee macchioto is a deep espresso “marked” with a touch of milk, a swirl of white, a bit of milky foam.

Lupicia has a knack for naming teas and I found this irresistable. It’s an odd brew, but not an unlovable one. The aroma says coffee and the caramel is evident as well. I added some milk, but was too impatient to foam it. Bringing the cup to my mouth, I could swear I would be drinking coffee. But yet….it’s tea. And here I’m grappling with some cognitive dissonance. I think of Hamlet’s lines about “mighty opposites.” Can the mighty opposites cooperate and meld into one sweet brew? Or are they, like Hamlet and Claudius, in inherent opposition?

The “final Jeopardy” round is over. The buzzer goes towards opposition. This makes a weak coffee. It makes a strange tea. It makes me long for a full-bodied caramel tea.

I am not giving this a low rating, however, because I think it succeeds in fulfilling its intent. And I am looking forward to a second steeping.

SECOND STEEP: Looks, smells, and tastes like very weak coffee. I won’t throw this out, but will probably give the rest of the package away to a true lover of the “coffee tea” blend. In this case, I am a segregationist. PM me if you want this!

I had to buy this tea because of the name. I am, after all, a creature formed in the 20th century and my sensibilities, thus, have been trained to respond to various stimuli. I’m not the kind of person who responds to “Blue Light Special” or “Blue Plate Special” or “Savings!”. But anyone who would like to attract my attention can do so by a soupçon of French or un po’ d’Italiano. Adding an evocation of the past (vintage, Edwardian, Victorian, nostalgic) wins bonus points and I’m happily ready to separate myself from the contents of my wallet. I ordered “La Belle Epoque” in one of those Pavlovian moments. Who wouldn’t like a drink from “La Belle Epoque?”

I am so happy to report that this is a wonderfully robust Darjeeling. Darjeelings are quickly becoming my first morning brew of choice. This one steeps rapidly and quickly becomes an almost deep red color. Slightly smoky, woodsy, spicy, the tea tastes as if a dash of salt had been added (could that be the Belle Epoque?) but it really works in this tea as a piquant note.

Having now finished my second cup, I am nostaligic for me. This blend is certainly going on my list of teas that must be re-ordered.

My first experience with Lupicia was good. Although they don’t have the almost instant delivery of Upton’s; they delivered within 8 days of having the order confirmed and included two free samples.

Absolutely delicious! For the coconut aficiondo, this one is delicious. It reminds me very much of Premium Steap’s Organic Coconut and I am very hard-pressed to select between the two. They both have given me superb coconut experiences. I may need to hold a coconut tea survivor game and sip all of my coconut “contestants” and force myself to vote one “off the island” until just one supreme winner remains.

But such is the speech of nonsense. I don’t want to snuff anyone’s flame. This tea is just as rich, full, and delicious and true to flavor as any other coconut I have had.

I also have to make a plug for the speedy service American Tea Room provides.

I tried more of this—two days in a row because I was having a major jones for it. As Jane Austen might say, “I extend my approbation completely”.