Savoy Tea CompanyEdit Company
Popular Teas from Savoy Tea CompanySee All 29 Teas
Recent Tasting Notes
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.
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.
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.
Cheating is such an ugly word, so let’s just say we caught Savoy in an act of creative relabeling. You know how when you shuffle the basket of half-packets just so, sometimes one bubbles up to the top you haven’t seen for a while? And when it bubbles right next to the one labeled “Misty Morning” and you notice the ingredient lists are identical, well…
Not that it’s an issue with something this tasty. Orange, almond, peppercorns, a little sweet vanilla flavoring. It’s all good, no matter what’s on the package.
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 ;)