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Discontinued. One of my least favorite words in the world, at least when it pertains to a tea I have grown to love and rely on. I have one box left, which I will ration sadly and carefully.

In the meantime, I will have to start a new quest for a strawberry black tea strong enough and authentic enough to suit me. Sigh.

Ever find yourself throwing a halfhearted tea bag into your out-the-door tumbler because you don’t have time to make good tea? This morning I did, thanks to ashmanra and this really, really nice breakfast tea.

The steeping instructions are right up my alley: boiling water, 45 seconds for a good cuppa; 90 seconds (and I quote) for “profound.” I went straight for profound. Beautiful fruit and cherry wood veneer. The proprietor recommends milk, and I’ll give that a go later, but it was so, so nice on its own!

A thoughtful work friend brought me back a little souvenir from a tea shop run in Springfield, Missouri (Chabom Teas + Spices). This is a new-to-me brand.

The Holy Grail of Decaf Black Teas does not exist. It is a myth that I will chase down until my poor old heart gives out. It’s either next to the pot of gold under the rainbow or with the black sock I’ve been trying to hunt down for two years. Ty-Phoo Decaf is the only tea I’ve tried that’s a contender.

That said, this one isn’t bad. Like all unflavored decafs, most of the flavor has been leached out in the treatment process, but it has a nice color and a nice, hefty body. Puts a little weight on your tongue. With an additive—little milk; little mint; little something—it might just fool me.

This is more a “random steep” note than anything else; I just used a bag of this very nondescript decaf as a holding device for the first fresh apple mint of the season. It’s been monsoon season in Missouri and the plant has been loving it…has already put out its first “tentacle” barely three weeks after we potted it.

As “tea” is actually the last thing mentioned on its ingredient list, I hesitated to add this to the lineup, but for what it is, it’s surprisingly tasty! Locally, we can find it at Atwoods, a farm and ranch store chain that offers free popcorn, saddle blankets, rabbit food, empty egg cartons, live chicks, and an interesting assortment of grocery whatnots.

Normally, I avoid bottled sweet tea because the citric acid reminds me of a bad chemistry experiment. The metallic sharpness spoils what could be a potentially decent drink. In this case, it doesn’t overpower the tea, nor does the sweetener (pure cane sugar; no stevia). It’s more “peach” than “tea,” but the fruit flavor is respectably accurate.

We have a front stoop instead of a front porch, but if I had one, I’d be on it with a rocking chair, the rest of the bottle, and my phone poised toward the maple tree knothole. Hootie has owl babies!

Part of a cute little gift threesome in glass test tubes with corks. English breakfast has never been strong enough to wake me…it’s more like gentle tug on the sheets at the bottom of the bed instead of being whapped in the face with a heavy pillow.

That said, this is adequate for office use. Says it’s a blend of Assam, Nilgiri and Ceylon. I say it’s heavy on the Ceylon, but the other players keep it from being too astringent and whiny. Tastes like “just tea.”

It’s been an eventful Easter—torrential rain overnight; Turkey Creek overflowing in the neighbors’ yards; some joy and chaos with my church kids (can you balance six jellybeans on a craft stick clamped in your mouth and say your memory verse?); a quick and quiet lunch followed up by tornado warnings bullying their way through several counties.

Sun’s out now and Hootie (yep, we named her) is peeking out of the knothole to see if the coast is clear. We think she’s got eggs or babies in the knothole because she’s had to fend off some greedy crows. Never underestimate the fury of a mama owl on the warpath.

In all the excitement, I’ve almost forgotten what I planned to say about this gentle oolong, other than my thanks to Martin is long-g-g-g-g-g overdue! I kept the steep time and temp very light, so the essence of the oolong base and the gardenia was barely there. Not heavily floral at all, but that’s the way I like my oolong.

Sigh. I hate change. Such as the marketing email I received from Savoy this week announcing that they are closing their physical storefronts. Online only. No doubt my favorites (like this one) will still be readily available, but there’s just something about that first step inside the door of a favorite tea shop, that first whiff of leaf, that makes your blood pressure drop and your smile slowly curl up at the corners like the Grinch.

Braveheart isn’t for the weak-minded. Stout, brassy, rye-bread goodness. I hope a packet delivered by mail tastes as good as one you’ve carried out of the store with your own two hands. I have doubts.

This isn’t a new one in my collection, but the packet is slow to empty … this chamomile and apple blend requires such a long steep time, you have to calendar it in. Tonight, I put the leaves in to stew, left it an hour, then reheated it in the microwave. Manhandled that way, it’s delicious! Silky; nice balance of fruit to cami. A good nightcap after a sulky, rainy day.

If you live near a Smallcakes Cupcakerie, consider yourselves fortunate. We miss ours! Little boutique cupcake and ice cream place that changed its flavor lineup weekly. They had a moist, melt-in-your mouth strawberry cupcake that I could gnarf in about three giant bites, I liked it so much. Snowberry Frost is its liquid stepchild. Berries and buttercream, compliments of the lovely ashmanra. Thank you—I needed the smile!