There’s rooibos and rooibos, as I’m starting to find out. This is completely different in appearance from other rooibos blends I’ve tried. The leaves, if I can call them that, are very thin, long, and pointy looking. They’re also more of an orange-red than a red-brown. And I rather like them. I’ve finally put my finger on what it is I don’t usually like about rooibos. To me, it tastes like blood. Almost metallic, or iron-like. I say usually, though, because there isn’t so much of that here. I can detect a faint trace of it in the background, but, actually, I wouldn’t know I was drinking rooibos straightaway. It’s there in the background, but it somehow seems more mellow and less dominant than it has in most of the other rooibos-based teas I’ve tried recently. Good news.
So. Another thing I like about this tea is that it actually does smell like a sherbet lemom. There’s a nice lemon-citrus kick to the dry leaves, sizeable chunks of lemon peel, and a slight stickiness that reminds me immediately of a boiled sweet. Thankfully, this carries through pretty well to the brewed tea. It’s not quite as strong as the scent, but it’s pretty good. More so when it’s hot. It’s very lemony then, both in smell and taste. The thing I feared most was that this would taste like lemsip, but it doesn’t. It’s more of a lemon sweet (a lemon sherbet!) kind of taste, and neither creamy nor medicinal. As it cools, I can taste the rooibos a bit more, but the earthiness is kind of pleasant with the openly zesty flavouring. Imagine how cool this would be with some popping candy added! Anyway, I enjoyed this hot, but I think it will really come alive as a cold-brew in the summer. Maybe with some added soda water or lemonade, because all this needs is to be a bit fizzy, and I’d have the whole lemon sherbet effect. Great stuff.