Savoy Tea Company
Popular Teas from Savoy Tea CompanySee All 22 Teas
Recent Tasting Notes
This green tea blend with a mate’ kick is very refreshing on a hot summer morning, and as mentioned previously, you don’t notice the ginseng flavor much. Would try some cold, but I keep drinking it up before any makes it to the fridge. Larger purchase predicted. Oh, shoot—that means a trip back to the tea shop. What a tragedy :)
“Misty Meadows” sounds so much more refined than “green tea with almond and orange.” But orange and almond it is, and an excellent blend at that.
Almonds have this pesky habit of going bitter in a black tea. With the lighter temp and steep time required for green tea, the flavor is just perfect. Not sure the peppercorns are kicking in much kick, maybe a little uptick at the end of each sip.
Enjoying this on a morning when a quick wake-up isn’t necessary, but it’s definitely not a hurry-up morning tea. Much better for afternoons or “prevenings” when you have time to rock and relax.
Score another one for Savoy’s pleasantly-flavored green teas.
Celebrating a string of several days that won’t be governed by an alarm clock or time clock—so this was in order.
(Actually, I just woke up craving sugar and we have no ready-made frosting in the house to break into.)
White cake flavor is spot on with this one; the sprinkles are cute but just make it a little cloudy. Easily remedied with a dark-colored mug.
Can’t find this one on the website to provide a description or picture; no surprise, as it was in a clearance bin at this nice little shop in NW Arkansas.
I wish there were an aftershave with the scent of the dry leaves—dark and peaty and malty. Then I wish I could get my spouse to wear it…but he probably wouldn’t like me sniffing him all over :)
Steeped as prescribed at 5 minutes, the flavor isn’t as representative of the smell as I had hoped, but it’s still a fair breakfast tea, leaning to the strongish side of Assam. Not a thriller, but not a disappointment.
Going to propose the theory that the folks at Savoy do much better at blends and flavored teas then they do straight-up stuff.
Curiosity prompted the purchase of this sample rather than taste preferences; ginseng is traditionally too “rooty” to be very pleasant.
It’s a pleasure to be mistaken in this case—this is a nifty little combo with enough green tea to counteract the ginseng bark-i-ness. Just tastes fresh. The mate’ is doing something in the bass line as well, though I’m at a loss for an accurate flavor adjective.
At any rate, nicely done and a good eyes-open tea for those of you who really don’t like the dark, deep, builders’ blends.
The pace at work the next three days promises to vacillate between screaminess and utter wild-eyed hysteria, so we’re at least starting the morning with a bit of calm and elegance before I start pulling my hair out in panic-induced wads.
This is sweet and subtle and cocoa-y. Stress subtle. Very good, but not for a morning caffeine jolt. Better for afternoon cookies, or for you gentle non-black-tea subtle people out there.
I always approach floral teas cautiously; I’m not a perfume-y person and so many of them taste like cheap cologne (sorry, flower lovers). But this, a tastelet from a work friend who ran to our favorite little shop in NW Arkansas, is nothing to be afraid of.
The flavors run as advertised. Black tea—mild; lavender—plenty; jasmine—mild to minor, but that’s OK by me; natural flavors—I’m catching some vanilla behind it all.
One for milk and sugar and china cups and big hats and feather boas and stuffed animals.
If you haven’t, today you might say a prayer for the little girls in Moore, Oklahoma, who are without a “lovey” to hug. When I think where we were—physically and emotionally—24 hours post-storm, my heart hurts for those families.
This is not a substitute for a box of Russell Stover cream centers. It’s tasty; you can pick up on the chocolate and coconut, but it’s still light enough your chocolate cravings know you’re trying to put one over on them.
(The only chocolatey tea I can think of that has the “heft” to be a plausible candy bar substitute is 52teas Malted ChocoMate.)
Still, a nice treat and change of pace.
Informal inventory of my decaf stuff reveals I’m way overstocked on rooibos/chocolate and rooibos/vanilla blends. Not a problem; drinking up the inequity will hurt no feelings here.
This particular blend smells luscious. (Yankee Candle, are you listening?) Thick, rich chocolate orange. Double up on the teaspoons, drop in a few extra cocoa nibs, walk away for 10 minutes…dessert!
Drinking this today, cold brewed from the fridge with nothing added. It is just awesome this way. I liked it well enough warm, but cold…well, it looks like I’ve found a new favorite. No temptation to add anything. It is pleasant, refreshing, just wonderful.
Unless you hate cardamom. Not a problem for me. I love cardamom, oranges, spices, everything in it. MMMMMM.
Savoy Pomegranate Grape Green
One thing I’ll say for this tea, it does smell grape-y. Like green grapes, very distinctively. Yeah, I know, the first ingredient in the name is Pomegranate, but that’s not really the flavor I get from it. To me, it
tastes a little like green tea and a lot like grapes.
A better tea snob than I might be able to distinguish the various dried fruits and elements. I’m nowhere near that discerning, but can say it’s a pleasant tea to start my day, mild and amiable. With pomegranates, red currents and raspberries on the ingredient list, I would expect this to be a bit tart. Instead, they blend together to give the whole thing an underlying sweetness.
It’s an unusual tea, not one I would choose to have every day. It isn’t that I OBJECT to it’s grape-y goodness. The flavor is amiable enough, but grapes don’t readily come to mind when I’m thinking of tea. There are times when this flavor is just not something I’m craving at teatime.I line my tea boxes and packets up in the cupboard and when it’s time to have a cup, they each get their turn. (It’s my method of making sure nothing gets forgotten and pines away for the next twenty years.) Admittedly, there are days when this particular blend gets banished to the back of the cue because I’m just not in the mood for it. Some teas are very assertive in their flavors, like a friend with a big personality that can be great fun on some occasions and terribly annoying on others. There have been days when I’ve greeted this tea with great enthusiasm and others when my response was “not that one again!”
But by golly, if I’m in the mood for something grape-y, this is definitely my go to. It’s good hot or cold and stands alone just fine without any sweeter, an unusual quality in a fruity tea like this one.
Almost like candy for breakfast. Nothing new to say about it after half a dozen tasting notes; caramelly, lemony. Only for mornings when there’s time to enjoy it. Because of where I buy it, when I drink it, I have strong sensory connections of leisurely days in the days of the Ozarks. I am in deep need of a strong dose of “somewhere else.”
This lemony caramel tea makes me smile. So does a morning spent with my nose in a commentary discovering the deeper meanings of the Israelite tabernacle furnishings so I can write about it for grade schoolers. Geekness at its finest :)
Still haven’t tried this with milk, but I need to. That would turn it in to a caramel-cream Earl Grey.
Phooey. Lost a whole rambly note on this one.
In short, it’s so light in color, even after 4-5 minutes, you wonder if there’s been mal-steep-function.
Conclusion: this is just supposed to be delicate. I don’t think I have a delicate or refined bone in my body; which may be why it puzzles me. (I expect black teas to wear ten-pound Doc Martens.)
This is a quirky, odd duck of a black/rooibos blend. But oddly, the apple fits with the rooibos which fits with the chocolate; it just leaves you a little pleasantly puzzled. Like those days when you discover a plaid jacket that doesn’t exactly not go with some pinstriped pants and you decide to take a fashion risk and then wonder all day if they really match or not. (Or maybe that’s just me :)
Rooibos fans will like this, I think.
I used to do a lot of whole grain baking. The flour I used featured a recipe on the label for orange cardamom cookies. It’s one of those recipes I always intended to try and never got around to but it sounded good. I always imagined it would taste like . . . Well . . . Like this tea.
This is good. Nice mild orange flavor with no nasty acidity, pleasant cardamom, and a hint of vanilla. My only complaint is I am strongly tempted to add cream and sweetener, cause I know they’d be awesome.I guess I’m just a sucker for a good dessert tea.
After a lovely week of downtime, I’m wrestling with a case of post-holiday, here-comes-January-and-taxes, darn-I’ve-gotta-take-down-the-tree, my-favorite-jeans-don’t-fit blues. Seasonal depression breathing down my neck like cold orc shadows.
In an attempt to keep from drowning my glums in the last of the Christmas candy in one gnarf, I made myself the tastiest tea I currently have to hand. I haven’t had marzipan in years, but this is what I think it tasted like. The orange-almond-vanilla combo in this is so sweet and confectionary, it’s a good dessert substitute.
A sample-sized packet was not enough of this!
Manomanomanoman, oh, man…I wish I had Smell-O-Net so you could get a whiff of this, dry. The smooth, marzipanny almond is so rich it’ll make your eyes roll back in your head. I want a candle that smells like this. I want pillows that smell like this.
The first fresh cup was fabulous—tasted every bit as good at it smelled. Orange and almond predominate, with the rest of the godies serving as backup singers (doo-wop!)
Second steep is still smooth; more almond, less orange, and oh, wow—there’s some pretty decent green tea under there!
Unfortunately, this isn’t on the Savoy website—must have been an in-store holiday-only treat. Locals, grab it while you can ;)
My first dragon pearls! Savoy is fast becoming one of my favorite walk-in-the-door tea sources. For a cheapskate like me, they’re a leetle pricey, but no shipping/handling and no waiting. (That’s the walk-out-the door advantage.)
Dropped two of these little gems, about the size of your pinky finger tip, into a big clear mug, added the recommended 8 oz. water, and … at first, not much. Was a little worried about impending tea fail, even after four minutes, because the water seemed awfully pale for a Yunnan.
Not to worry. I ran it through a little tea strainer into a smaller, opaque cup, which showed a little more color—bronze. Flavor was pleasantly surprising. A little savory and brothy and yep! cocoa as advertised.
Off to try a second steep. (Do dragon balls bounce back? ;)