gmathis

Okay, say it with me: My name is…and I’m a Steep-a-holic…

Good to be back, eh?

My tealog says I haven’t had a cup of this since 2009; Azzrian kindly provided a little sip down memory lane this weekend. Still good and grapey, but a little more floral than I remember it the first time. If you’re looking for a reasonable balance between good black tea and in-your-face fruity, this is a viable selection.

No deceased Chinese mafia dogs for me tonight, please. (They must have been really mini Shih Tzus. Don’t mind me, just see previous tasting note.)

Therefore, and since I was one bag shy of a sipdown anyway, I made this to relax with. Hot bath, pumpkin pie, comfort reading.

For newbies and cheapsters, this really is one of the better Lipton pyramid-bag offerings; good enough to buy a repeat someday. Enough pineapple to overshadow the chamomile flavor. Isn’t it funny that chamomile is perceived as a light, restful, delicate herbal, but it’s so strong you just can’t shout the flavor down much?

Sleep tight. Don’t let the shar pei’s bite.

Though this one hasn’t my preferred level of clout, it gets props for “impossible to ruin.” Insomnia, weird dreams (chased by the Chinese mafia because I had two of their miniature dogs, deceased, in matchboxes), and some unsettled fretting about elder care had me up at 4:15 a.m.

Made this just to have a warm mug to clutch, left the bag in; too tired to get up and dispose. Fell asleep in the recliner and 2 hours later, bag in, it was still drinkable.

I have a perpetual wrestling match with this one. I’ve finally figured out the prime timing — about 2 minutes, definitely less than 2 1/2. Now if I can just find the confounded temperature sweet spot. Cold brew doesn’t work; anything hotter than tap water seems to make it bitter.

I want this one to work; it’s got potential and it’s a Cheapster Steepster. But I’ve blown through nearly a third of the little box and not gotten a cup right—at least to my taste buds.

Psalm 111:2 says I’m not pondering enough. So I am basking in a slow and quiet morning of thanksgiving and pondering—-life, the unverse, and good tea. Conclusion: God is big and I am small and I am amazed.

I can’t reach as firm a conclusion about this Upton Breakfast blend. The smell in the sample pouch was deep and grainy—a scent to make Assam lovers swoon.

Steeped, well, I’m not sure what I’m getting. Feels good and thick in the mouth, but there’s a little off-center sharpness that’s making me scrunch up my face a little. That just may be my cue that this one isn’t to be taken without a little additive. (Off to get milk.)

Today, among many other things, I’m grateful for the funny friendships and conversations I’ve encountered here. Be thankful.

Hedley’s Cherry Rooibos + Bigelow Cozy Chamomile

The cherry syrup vibe is so strong in the Hedley’s I rummaged around in my work stash to find something that might tame it a little. This worked decently. Now chamomile with a little cherry instead of CHERRY that makes your eyes cross :)

Pie. Good pie.

(I could stand for it to be a tetch less sweet, but then it wouldn’t be pie, either.)

Many, many morning delays and distractions (mostly me just sp..a..c..i..n..g out) so this steeped a couple minutes longer than intended and has a little bitter bite to it now. If I had milk handy, it’d be just fine. Still a good medium-weight, medium kick assam. Have really enjoyed my Tea Merchant samples.

Hubby brought this home just as a Thoughtful Thing. He noticed the apple scent as it steeped before I did. It does have noticeable hints of Golden Delicious apples. Not unpleasant by any means, but I think it could be a little apple-ier.

A bottom-of-the-basket surprise I had forgotten about; Darjeelings get short shrift at my house.

This Darjeeling/Yunnan combo is smooth with a little “pep” from the Yunnan, with a creamy, carmelly personality. Really nice, especially when you keep an eye on time and temp. (Lightish on both.)

The fact that I giggle at the tea lump and think of elephant dung every time I open the packet probably means I’m not mature enough to drink this!

Shaved off what I thought looked like 3 cups’ worth this morning and gave it a cautious 2 1/2 minute steep. It does not taste the spare part of an elephant. Sweet and a little earthy. Pretty pleasant. I’ll give it two trunks up.

Sticking to my comfy-is-best mentality this morning. Decent inexpensive “classic” Assam, little milk, no brains needed. Good choice for a pantry staple if you’re stocking up for a long weary winter.

This was just one of those weeks when you come home from work so raw and weary anything that requires conscious thought becomes painful. Including having to think about what to drink. So I am grateful that my stash is still full of old comfies like this one.

Used my last little flash of remaining braincells (no more spark than a 4th of July popper) to get slightly creative with a dash of cinnamon and some milk. Perfect. Just added to the comfy.

You know, there just aren’t enough places in the world you can go to have a good healthy primal scream. A moderate barbaric yawp, even. Work—-well, that’s out; that’s causing it. Home, nope. Somebody’s always taking a nap and would bite your head off. Back yard or on the evening constitutional around the neighborhood—wouldn’t advise it; might attract the attention of neighbors and local constabulary. (This burg is teeny. Doesn’t take much to make a stir.)

So there was nothing else to do for one set of jangled, teeth-gritten-down-to-the-nubs nerves except make a cup of tension-taming tulsi. And, needing gratuitious sugar, I got experimental and tossed in a bag of Celestial Seasonings Sugar Cookie Sleigh Ride. (Well, the two smelled nice together when I held the CS bag up to the tulsi jar.)

Steeped, not sensational, but the cup didn’t go down the drain, either. As always, the tulsi took a little of the battery acid out of the back of my neck.

I could still use a good safe shriek. (Maybe we should think about building an outdoor tornado shelter after all…)

I can’t remember which one of you fine folks mentioned mini marshmallows as a tea additive, but when my husband brought home a container of mini chocolate marshmallow bits, I decided to get a little adventurous.

This is a nice chocolatey-almondy rooibos on its own, so I reasoned it would welcome said marshmallow bits. It wasn’t bad, but there’s something a little, uh, sharpish about the rooibos flavor that doesn’t combine smoothly. Two separate flavors on your tongue instead of one lovely smooth chocolate mishmash. Does that make sense?

However, I shall persist to find my favorite marshmallow friendly tea. (Doesn’t that sound like a rotten task? Doggone it. More teas to taste. More marshmallows to chomp.)

Lovely damp and dreary afternoon. The leaves on the giant maple in the yard have fallen almost simultaneously (whoomph!) and it really does look like a yellow and tan shag carpet. Hard to keep my eyes off the window.

(My opinion of damp and dreary afternoons will shift radically come January and February.)

Knowing that I was likely to spend the entire afternoon with a cup in my hand, I figured I’d better steep something that wouldn’t caffeinate me into agitated insomnia tonight, so I picked this nice go-to dragonwell. Boston Tea does everything properly and elegantly. This is gentle, lovely to look at (huge leaves), not too vegetable-y. Steeped beautifully a second time.

There. That’s better. Two cup pot, 1 bag with a teaspoon of plain Lover’s Leap Ceylon. Little milk. Now I can taste the pumpkin, not just the sweet.

Enjoying it with a picture-window view of my front yard (courtesy of a very gusty wind) that is now lushly carpeted with gold and tan leaves. By the time we get back from church, we expect a 30-degree temperature drop. Looks like a lovely tea day.

This is a nice, gentle, bagged rooibos. Not too tart; leans more to the cranberry side. Just a little hint of orange. Was perfect with a slice of lemon poppyseed bread and a Saturday night bluegrass gospel fix with the wind rustling the leaves outside.

Well, after my last experience with this one, there was nowhere to go but up. Tried more like a 1/4 teaspoonful to a cup of water. It’s still thick green like pea soup (I guess that’s just the personality of this stuff?) but the flavor is pleasant spinach-salad leafy green now. Makes me feel healthy and noble drinking it. If I back off the powder just a nootch more next time, I may have something I can relax and enjoy.

1000? How’d that happen? Somebody’s spending too much time flitting online, huh?

This was my treat to myself after nearly breaking my back loading up building plans and blueprints for Fed Ex. It was like wrestling a flat, contentious moose.

And a treat it is, thank you, ashmanra. The chocolate-peanutty against apricotty-marigoldy is unusual, but mighty tasty!

Nothing much new here; still love it, but wondering why it took me so long to try with milk. Berries and cream! (And still enough morning strength to bribe me out the door this morning.)

Funny, in the past I’ve talked the big talk about how much I love Bigelow’s Eggnogg’n holiday tea (and ’deed I do), but I noticed this evening that my box of Ginger Snappish is going a lot faster. Gentle, lemony, right amount of spice. Accentuates instead of tasting like somebody dumped the contents of their spice rack in the bag.

I need to clear my head of too much work, too much sugar, too many hormones, too many looming holidays…etc. Thought something light might start the clearing process, so I broke into my sample pack.

The leaves are so lush and phloofy, you want to lay your weary head in a pillow of them. Love the 5 minute steep time, and the fact that there’s some flavor at the end of the wait. Sweet hay and wheat straw. (You know me, I don’t care for teas that make you fish for the taste.)

I don’t think I’ll ever be a white tea addict, but this one makes me a white tea appreciator.

Whooo. 80% sweet, 20% pumpkin.

Did I say this was sweet?

Don’t dislike it, but the next round is going to need some serious dilution. Milk. A bag of plain black. Something.