1811 Tasting Notes
Raspberry leaf for medicinal purposes tastes like the green leaf, not the red berry. As such, it’s not particularly tasty steeped on its own. Mint makes a nice complement, but sometimes it’s nice to have an herbal option with a little more punch. So I dumped in about a teaspoon of good ol’ Pappy’s sassafras concentrate. The chemistry is a little funny; makes the combo a little oily looking, but it’s quite tasty. Like spring in the Ozarks.
Haven’t said much about this, but it’s made repeat appearances at the house now—it’s a respectable and decent black morning tea. Flavor strength is right in the middle, maybe pointing a scootch toward the dark/deep side instead of bright/brassy. Takes sloppy steeping OK. Those of you who’ve read more than three of my reviews know that’s a winner for me.
This morning, however, due to cloggy and lumpy spring sinuses, I’m getting banana vibes out of it. An unexpected tea adventure :) It’s me, not the leaves!
Chose this for caffeine delivery rather than subtle flavor nuances. I love it that, though it’s double-strength caffeine, it still has a pretty gentle English Breakfast personality—doesn’t curdle your tongue with bitterness, even after a nice, long steep. Good with milk. Great when you have an 8:30 a.m. meeting and a 4:45 a.m. brain.
Temperate rain in the forecast caused us to pull out our potted mints that we had mulched and tucked on the edge of the carport to snooze out the winter. Removed the mulch to see what fared well…best out of the batch was the catnip. The cats found it immediately, and due to my incompetence with a camera phone, you all missed some of the funniest feline gyrations—they rubbed their muzzles in it, practically turning their heads 360 degrees to wallow in it to full effect; Tazo tried to climb in the pot…all to say, I got to steep me some of that when it matures this spring!
Inspired by their enthusiasm, I’m enjoying a sweet and fresh strong tisane with applemint from last summer’s backyard crop. Come on, warmth and sunshine!
If you read my string of notes for straight-up tulsi, every last one is related to a rock-bottom, scraping-the-dregs-of-the-barrel physical or emotional trauma. Today is no exception. Daylight savings jet lag catching up with me; an unpleasant four-year-old tornado-related insurance headache catching up with us; it’s time to call in the big guns. I am grateful to have discovered a natural medicinal that won’t chase all the big uglies away, but helps to hold them at bay for a while so I can catch my breath.
Truthfully, I’m not sure what brand this is—it’s from the bulk bin at our indie grocery. (I’m not sure that San Francisco Herb Co. is their preferred supplier now.) But it’s lemony, clovey, warm and light.
Ever find a basket of leaves on your kitchen counter that still look viable but you’re not quite sure what they were, and you’re too lazy to clean out the basket, so you just throw in a small wad of fresh generic Assam on top of it and steep it an indeterminate amount of time while you clean up after the cat, and you discover it’s really tasty?
Don’t say no, you don’t; you have. (Well, maybe not; perhaps you don’t have a cat :)
Happy Friday, all.
Some mornings, you just need unleaded fuel. Expect no subtlety here; stiff, clout-you-over-the-head strong tea with a sharp little uptick at the end of the sip. Milk (almond milk) mellows it a bit, but doesn’t mask the strength. Recommended on icy 13-degree March mornings when you don’t-want-to-leave-your-flannel-sheet-cocoon.