Whittard of Chelsea
Popular Teas from Whittard of ChelseaSee All 148 Teas
Recent Tasting Notes
Ok, so this is a weird tasting note.
I’ve been SERIOUSLY missing Adagio’s grapefruit oolong, but a) I can’t afford to pay for all that shipping on my own (trying to get a UK group run together and now a bunch of flavours are out of stock, ouch!) and b) I really shouldn’t even be buying any more tea for myself until I’ve drank more of what I’ve got in the kitchen anyway.
So I decided to take this relatively bland but acceptable oolong, and grapefruit it myself. So I added grapefruit juice.
And you know what?
It’s no Adagio grapefruit oolong, but it’s tastier than Morrisons grapefruit juice or this tea would have been on their own. Tart but wholesome. I think I’ve found the way to make me drink these teabags.
This isn’t creepy.
I’ve never eaten rhubarb, but I’ve had a few rhubarb teas now, & from them I can surmise that it is tart & slightly bitter, kind of like cranberries. I drank this tea lightly sweetened, & although it isn’t something I’d ever purchase, it was a decent dessert.
This one came from Awkward Soul, & the remainder goes to….you guessed it! Sil!
I’m so caffeinated now the selection process for this one went something like…
green peach, huh?
are there even green peaches?
or is it because the tea is green?
what a pretty fruit
but peach like
…and then imagine that really pinball-staccato and jittery.
I have a peach obsession. If it says peach, I’m gonna peach. So I peached. I am absolutely not disappointed. There are some too-good-to-be-true natural peaches out there, such as Lupicia’s Momo, but then there are also slightly less natural (it sounds better than ‘more artificial’) peach versions, such as this one, that are really enjoyable. (Keep in mind, though, that I’m someone who will shamelessly hog a bag of Haribo peach candies. Hi, E100, hi, E120, Hi Artificial Flavouring! Is anyone else coming? Oooh, Sugar.)
Brewed, this one has that slight metallic hint to it that I’m so used to finding in teas from A.C. Perchs now that I almost exclusively associate it with their greens and whites. It’s also somewhat flat – not flat as in stale, but just not overly intricate, flavour wise.
I’d really like to cold-brew this one, so I think this gets to stay here in Villa Borghese with me.
Thanks for sharing, KittyLovesTea! I am now one step closer to trying all the peach teas in the world.
[Sample from the second round of the EU Travelling Box, spring 2014.]
This + freshly baked scones with a variety of marmalade, honey and lemon curd.
In all my humblest modesty; OM NOM NOM NOM!!!
(No clotted cream, though. I know of one place only where I can buy that here and I wasn’t about to retrace my steps. Research has shown me that it’s supposedly super-easy to make your own but it’s an overnight sort of job. Requires more preparation than my spontaneous cravings)
Here is another tea sent to me by Awkward Soul, for Sil & I to share.
It’s ok. Not really my thing, which is surprizing to me, as I was really feeling like I wanted something decadent, but there was something in the taste that just didn’t appeal to me. The rest of it goes to Sil, so that’s another sipdown for me (330).
You guys I made a tea latte. My first ever tea latte and I am so happy I chose this tea to do it! Overall it was a bit sickly for me, but that might have something to do with the amount of honey I added… I brewed a small-ish cup of double-strength tea for 5 minutes, and added it to two times the amount of hot semi-skimmed milk, so it was 1/3 tea in the end. I then put about 4 spoons of honey in it (it was a giant mug, so it’s not quite as bad as it sounds!) and that’s where it all went a bit wrong. Two would have DEFINITELY been enough.
Aside from the sugar overload, this was definitely a success, and I can’t wait to try other types of tea latte! It makes an amazing night time treat, as it’s caffeine-free and the chocolate reminds me of drinking hot chocolate on a night as a child, but with a more grown-up twist. The spices are a lovely aftertaste, and the red peppercorns leave a really nice tingle on your tongue. I will be making this again for sure!
I find this tea much more enjoyable cold than hot, although it’s quite lovely both ways – it’s just that the floral notes are almost completely absent cold, and the peach gets sweeter and thicker – almost granular. Hot, the tea is more mild peach with a strong rose flavor, and a bit much for my tastes – although likely quite lovely for someone who loves roses in their tea.
Thank you to KittyLovesTea for sharing this with me!
Does it count as breakfast if it’s your first cup of the day, even though it’s half past 1 in the afternoon and you’ve been up for 3 hours but have only just brought yourself to leave bed?
Oh yeah, so last night I dreamt about tea. Basically, for some reason my high school drama teacher (one of those stereotypical older theatrical types – a slightly camp little pepperpot with one of those little goatees to make him look extra-artsy) was there, and I think he was trying to convince me to have a fling with him, albeit unsuccessfully. I dismissed him from my family home because I was just interested in a new tea called Golden Honeybee. Is this a tea? In my dream, it was luscious.
This standard Assam can be nothing but a disappointment in comparison to the memory of the brew of my dream; that being said, for what it is, it serves its purpose admirably. Bit heavily tannic on the end, though maybe that’s how I’m brewing it. It’s full-bodied with not quite as much maltiness as I like in an Assam, but it’ll do. Yes, it’ll do indeed. It must be a pretty good basic brew, as I apparently hoovered the entire mug in the space of like 10 minutes. Quite so, quite so.
Now let’s see if I can complete 8 hours of illustrating (and desperately applying for every temp admin job going – SOMEBODY HIRE ME ALREADY, I CAN’T AFFORD TO LIVE) in the space of 4, because I’m meeting some former workmates from my last contract tonight and I probably should have started working in the morning. Whoops.
First: why do I have oolong teabags? The whole idea is anathema to my being. They must have been out of the loose leaf. I must have been desperate.
Second: what am I smelling as this brews? Something brown. Smoke? Burn? Chicory, definitely chicory. It’s like somebody threw some of my mum’s evening coffee substitute in with the tea leaves in here. This carries over into the flavour too, over the usual sort of leafy, autumnal flavour typical of this kind of oolong, and something that reminds me of, I dunno, the smell of fish food maybe? But the memory of feeding fishies in my kitchen in the 80s when I was very little. Confusing.
All things considering, it’s all right, but not mind-blowing.
Now I really need to stop procrastinating and finish this painting commission of Jo Grant escaping from a space prison.
I’m skipping the queue with this one. I’ll do a queued post later, probably. I think I obtained it from the EU travelling teabox, the teas from which I mysteriously didn’t number and note in my notebook like I normally do. I used all the leaf I had on one enormous pot, which I then decanted into a second pre-warmed pot, so I’ve been drinking this all morning. I’ve had an electrician round this morning to fix a few things on the house. Some sockets that didn’t work and a cable on the outside which originally supplied the out-building that the previous owners tore down. This cable just ended in a plastic bag in the crawl-space under the house and turned out to actually be live! When selling houses in Denmark, it’s mandatory to have an inspector round to go through the house and grade all the faults and things for severity, and you also have an electrician around to inspect the electrical installations. The electrician that inspected here put that cable down as something that needed to be looked at more closely. Why he didn’t say that it needed fixing NOW as it was extremely dangerous is beyond me. I’m fairly certain having live cables just end in a plastic bag like that is probably wildly illegal… Oh well. It’s not live anymore and the electrician can easily just change it back if we decide we want to use it for something.
At any rate, I didn’t know for how long he would need to turn the electricity off for the whole house, hence the jolly big pot of tea made in advance. Provisions, you see! Turns out he only needed to turn it off twice for maybe ten minutes at the time or so, and all the work he had to do took about an hour, but I wasn’t to know that.
So back to the tea.
This is a blend of Darjeeling and Assam, and I can definitely taste the high-grown-ness of the Darjeeling. There’s a whiff of unmistakable flower-y dry grass in here. It’s not actually unpleasant though, like it frequently is for me in a pure Darj, so I imagine that it’s tempered by the Assam. I wouldn’t have guessed Assam myself from the taste, though, but I can definitely tell that there’s something stronger and with more oomph than your average Darjeeling.
All in all, it’s actually a surprisingly pleasant blend. Quite sweet and smooth too. However, it also tastes fairly anonymous. It’s a nice blend to drink while puttering about the house trying to entertain oneself in the morning with something that is vaguely productive but not requiring a lot of light or electricity. It’s not really a blend that invites me to try and analyse the flavour in depth. It merely wants to be drunk.
Okay, I can handle that.
(Also, tea cozy that I got for Christmas last year and hardly ever use appears to be surprisingly effective in combination with a pre-heated China pot. It’s kept the brew suitably warm for nearly two hours now!)
Downed a cup and a half before breaking down and actually peeking at the ingredients I couldn’t identify…odd that I’m not overfond of rose, jasmine, or bergamot individually, but together and with a light touch, they combine to make a properly civilized and elegant cuppa.
Anne Perry, one of my new favorite authors (she’s been around a while), writes a Victorian mystery series about detective Thomas Pitt, who married above his station. His wife, Charlotte, relies on her proper society connections and adventurous Aunt Vespasia to assist Thomas in infiltrating the ugly underbelly of the London uppercrust. I would proudly pour up a pot of this for either of the ladies.