Savoy Tea CompanyEdit Company
Popular Teas from Savoy Tea CompanySee All 40 Teas
Recent Tasting Notes
Flipping back through recent notes on this one, it seems to be the subconscious go-to for moments of mild creative frustration: in this case, it was losing a wrestling match with a Cricut mat that is losing its sticky (those of you who know how expensive those confounded mats are understand the need to beat them into submission until they’ve lost their last iota of tackiness).
At any rate, this lovely orange-almond green is perfect for an afternoon, slightly sweet, easy to steep. One I will chase down next trip to Arkansas.
Be amazed: we did a frivolous and delicious autumn run to NW Arkansas yesterday (primarily Eureka Springs for those of you familiar with the geography), stopped at Savoy on the way home, and I restrained myself to two small packets of tea. This was one of ’em, because I know of no other source for a similar orangey, almondy, cookie-y green tea. This is gooood!
I associate green tea with focus and clarity; need lots. The closest I come these days to algebra and geometry is figuring out the composition of a teacher resource pack: you get X units of Y kind of paper (three different weights) and you have to leave Z units unbespoken for required items, so what’s left is like trying to fit 9 shoes in 4 shoeboxes without the lid coming off….oh, my hurtin’ head….
The name of this one conjures up images of neither mist nor meadow. I don’t think any of the ingredients even grow in a meadow, unless it’s a safflower, maybe.
Vocabulary and imagery differences aside, this is still mightily tasty. Orange and almond sweetness; not a tart nor a pucker to be found. (I splurged and made sure a dried orange slice made it into my measuring spoon tonight. Hey, it’s been a rough week. I needed a little perk.)
“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.
This is a decent, lightweight IB. This is not the tea to drink at 6 a.m. when it’s the only cup you’re going to get all day because your workday is screamingly nonstop from the moment you walk in and then when you get off you have to run screaming in another direction to take an elderly father to the E.R.
Thank you for indulging me in a bit of self-pity :) Surely there is hot water around here somewhere. I have a bag of Twinings on me….
Brrr! First cold snap. We tried to tough it out and forego turning the heat on last night; hubby woke up with a cold looking at he’d been hit by a truck, and my joints were screamingly painful. So WARM trumped any other tea quality this morning.
This is a decent morning cup that takes absentminded steeping well. Smooth, not sharp.
Which is worse: a week with no time to drink tea, or a week so nuts you’ve been drinking it all along and failed to enjoy it? It’s falling somewhat toward the latter here.
So, in keeping with the “brainless” theme, picked a morning cuppa that apparently needs no thought whatsoever. This is good, but awfully mild for an Irish breakfast; just a half-tone shy of a Ceylon, a trifle less sharp than that. Takes long steeps with no problem; I may have to double up on leaf and time and see what happens with the rest of the packet.
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.
One of those mornings where about two sips of hot tea are all you get to before the outdoor temps make hot anything unnecessary—so this was a good morning choice. The ginseng gets stronger as it cools, which is OK by me—I don’t like ginseng hot, but cold or iced it hits the spot. would like to get some more of this.
I have really been digging this one—light, almost citrusy green flavor with the kick of a good British breakfast tea.
The only downside is the steep time—just two minutes. Which means it can’t be left unattended while one schleps around the house in morning routine mode. Funny how something that piddly can make your groove un-groovy.
All the same, I want more next time I’m at Savoy; I’ll just save it for the mornings when the minutes don’t matter as much.
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 :)
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.
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.
Posted an hour ago on FB, sharing here for your amusement:
Career tip: I strongly advise against taking up cat juggling, particularly after the age of 40. You’ll likely end up sitting woefully balancing a bag of frozen chicken noodles on your sprained foot and picking sawdust out of your backside.
I’ll leave the highly unglamorous details to your imagination. A tango it wasn’t.
Pride is bruised as much as the tootsie. I needed something sweet to make it all better. Cocoa with orange, bag in.
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!
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.
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.
More than really needed for one cup, but not enough for two…aw, heck, let’s just throw it all in and see what happens.
Figured an attitude like that would get me a bitter cup of citrus flavored mud, but with a 4 minute steep, we’ve got a nice dark toasty oolong with pleasant “show me your citrus peels” flavor. Sheldon would approve, even if it isn’t tangerine.