This is not the Holy Grail of cherry teas—that would taste like pie made from the cherries in the tree I used to sit in to read when I was nine. There was a v-shaped branch just the size for my skinny little backside and some limbs that could hold my transistor radio and an extra copy of Trixie Belden.

However, this is a good cherry tea. Bagged, no less. Not chemically-syrupy; not so tart it makes your eyeballs sweat; just pleasantly (and not too artificially) tasting cherry.

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Steepster “geezer;” tea barbarian who has no systematic method for storage, preparation, classification, or rating; lover of strong unleaded builders’ tea. Never quite grew up—I cut and glue, play with Legos, design kids’ curriculum, and play with fifth graders every Sunday.

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Southwest Missouri

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