gmathis

Gobs of lavender + generous chamomile + slightly less tulsi

It was a ham hock and pirhana day yesterday; came dragging home metaphorically rubbing my hindquarters from all the bites taken out of it at work.

This desperation combination was really good; the more lavender, the less clove-y the tulsi. And the scent was wonderful. Everybody crashed early except me, so I had some silence to smell and sip and pray and unwind.

Forget valerian; tulsi has whatever my biochemistry needs to neutralize the jet-fuel adrenalin of a stressy day.

What’s left of this little packet from Michelle had sifted down to the realm of half-packages in my big black tea basket aand looked lonely.

As is the fate of plastic packets that have been canoodling with other lonely plastic packets, this one has likely lost a little strength from its heyday. So I still can’t isolate what gives lichee it’s licheness. Getting sort of a pleasant fruit cocktail afterglow as I drink. The black tea base is nicely balanced, too.

With all that said, this is good stuff! (Good stuff is often defined by the fact that the entire tumbler is gone before my five-minute commute is over.)
One that’s comfortable for “heavy drinking,” not just sipping.

No notes yet.

Of all the delicate, champagne-y colored oolongs I’ve tried, this is by far the sweetest. Has a really nice, pale steeped color and feels smooth in your mouth. (And if I say it tastes like sweet satin sheets K S had better not laugh at me.)

Definitely too light for anything but a quiet afternoon, but perfect in a silent Sunday afternoon house. (Sort of. My head is still echoing from a morning full of 10-year-olds at church. Today’s deep philosophical question: What would happen if Lady Gaga came to our church and what would she wear?)

Slow Sunday morning … ample time to check out a new tea … ahhh!

This one has autumn written all over it. (According to my son, there are really two mini-seasons, fall when the temps dip for the first time, and deep autumn, when there’s been a frost and the leaves are past their prime.) So by his seasonal calendar, I’m a few weeks early.

At any rate: nice leaves with plenty of blonde in them. The steeped color is absolutely gorgeous—deep reddish mahogany. Flavor leads off with some smokiness, but once that wears off, there’s a rich woody taste. Not sawdust; old oak and maple planks with a bit of cinnamon bark. Enjoying it plain too much to mess it up with milk.

You know, the fun thing about tea tasting is that it’s so crazily subjective…I could’ve said this tasted like a gym floor that had been mopped with Worcestershire sauce…and it still would’ve been accurate (who are we to contest the accuracy of each other’s taste buds)?

Enjoy whatever it is you’re tasting today.

FINISHED an article with an October 1 deadline that was a dickens to write. I can (temporarily before I plunge into another assignment) see the surface of my desk!

While I was working I guzzled enough heavy-caf stuff, I needed something a little lighter to celebrate the “done” feeling. This selection from the illustrious K S was just perfect. The fruit flavor is round and sweet, not thin and tart as in many fruited green teas. Not a bit of tartness.

Put my feet up while I was drinking, watched a Downton Abbey episode, and basked in the brief leisure.

MENOKA, not Menkota. I’ve been misspelling this for a month. Anybody know how to merge two tea listings, one which I created by accident?

Last of the sample pouch, so there was a little less than needed for a full two-cup pot. And that, I believe is the secret—lighter on the leaf, fruitier on the taste. And still enough “boot” to help me slam out 900 words…in time for a Monday morning deadline!

So my new tea buddy at work and I have been having a blast bringing each other oddball things and cackling over ingredient lists like Macbeth’s witches. She graciously brought me a precious mini-tin of flowering jasmine “hairballs” (as she called them) as a thank you for broadening her horizons a little.

I just typed in the tea company (?) name as it appears on the bottom of the tin. Couldn’t easily find a match online.

This tin has half a dozen little bundles. This one looked like a hairy kidney bean and unfurled from the center outward to reveal a nubby little flower that looked like a raspberry. So much fun to watch them “poof!”

Flavor of flowering teas—-usually, I’m not so excited about that part. Jasmine is a little perfumey for me. But this particular cup surprised me. Once I strained out the leaves (I don’t mind a stray strand here and there, but it was kind of chewy) there was a really nice honey flavor that counteracted the floral and stayed on your tongue in between sips.

I believe I’m the one whose horizons were broadened a bit this time around!

This is gorgeous in appearance, dry, and fruity-rich in aroma. I’m still functioning with half a mouth and holding my head funny not to swallow on the sore side, but this is a really sweet, fruity-fragrant oolong. Looking forward to giving it better attention, because I like it!

Thanks to a nasty canker sore, every tea I have (painfully and agonizingly) sipped this week tastes like Orajel. Finally improving to the point I can pick up a little flavor, so I decided to treat myself to a sweet breakfast tea, this one from Michelle. (Did I goof? Is this supposed to be vanilla caramel?)

Straight up with no milk, I’m getting a good, dark strong burnt sugar flavor. Enough caffeine to be trusted for morning wake-up duty. Nothing to write rhapsodies about, but a good, sweet and solid tea.

Discovered recently that a coworker is discovering tea … we cackle and brood over samples and swaps; she’s more kitcheny than I am and has been doing a little blending alchemy of her own. Most of the rest of the office just thinks we’re nuts.

At any rate, I turned her onto 52 Teas, and this was in her christening order, and she kindly shared. Whooie, this does have a kick! Was warm enough that I dumped some vanilla creamer into it—all I had at my desk—and I think in doing so, I messed up the flavor enough I can’t accurately analyze it. All I’m getting is sweet and hot.

Thankfully, there’s enough for another cup. I’ll take it home and try to do it justice.

I may have over-leafed, but No. 2 medium seemed darker and stronger than Marks and Spencer No. 3 srength I tried yesterday. Dark and strong builders’ tea character.

In a previous note, ashmanra said that “at six minutes, this stuff will stage a coup and there will be an international incident.” I saved my leaves from this morning and will see if a second steep encourages diplomacy.

This was my after-dinner treat last night with a little wedge of pumpkin pie.

Hazelnut-honeybush is a really nice combination, and the choco-vanilla sweetens it nicely without making the whole mixture cloying. Makes a very muted flavor palette perfect for relaxing. Sometimes your taste buds are just too tired to think.

Kudos to keenteathyme for concocting this one!

This is the James Bond of Breakfast Teas. Elegant. Understated. But don’t let down your guard; if you turn your back, it’ll nail you in the solar plexus with an iron fist!

If you’re a PG Tips fan, you know that a strong cuppa is smooth and dark from the tip of the tongue to the final swallow. This one is a little sneakier: light, bright, light, BAM! (The dark builders’ tea kick is at the end.)

No matter how it is delivered, a kick and a punch is welcome today. Many pages of content to hammer out, and I’m sure my editors would appreciate it if they were coherent!

Gotta thank ashmanra again for feeding the addiction!

This smells great, both dry and steeped. Comes across as sweet and grainy to me. It’s a beautiful pale blonde in the cup, and has the temperament of a nice, friendly bowl of cereal. At first I was a little stumped about which brand of cereal, but hubby nailed it as far as I’m concerned—Sugar Pops! (Or Corn Pops or whatever politically healthily correct name it’s been given now.)

Love to my enabler ashmanra for the opportunity to try this one. Looking forward to Steep #2 in a bit!

Hey! It’s decaf! It TASTES! It tastes good! A cause for celebration and a little woo-hooing, as there are so few plain black decaf teas that have any sort of potency.

First thing that came to mind as I enjoyed this treat from ashmanra was unsweet graham cracker. Filling and substance-y. And welcome. It was a (resounding thunk as I drop all the baggage on the floor) DAY.

The only thing I can figure is that I must have not been very generous with the leaves when I first tried this. It does have some Darjeeling/Oolong personality—I won’t retract that—but it has some really nice bass notes. (I’m a sucker for a good bass—Oak Ridge Boys and Statler Brothers come to mind.)

OK, this one you KNOW you’re drinking. Dark with a bit of a bite, has enough backbone that milk doesn’t put a dent in the kicky flavor.

No notes yet.

This is the one I made with my eyes closed yesterday. And reading Note #1 that I wrote, I still can’t figure out where the cocoa-ish flavor came from. Hmm. Maybe I’d better scrub my steeping basket a little better ;)

Kind of a Twilight Zone tea day … without looking, I grabbed an open packet of one of my Upton samples. Not sure which one. Did a sloppy, untimed 5 minute-ish steep, and it was phenomenally good, cocoa-y, but completely unlike either of the two samples I know are open and in my kitchen. One of them evidently has a pleasantly Jekyll-and-Hyde personality, but I couldn’t tell you which if my life depended on it.

Surely this has never happened to you.

At least this one I can identify by box and bag. Most of my descriptions of this one have leaned to “wheaty” and “toasty,” but today I’m adding “raisiny.”

Funny what the addition or omission of a degree or two or a leaf or two can do, huh?

Confusedly yours,
Me

From Michelle with my appreciation. A sweet, dark, oaky tea. Sort of like an old cedarwood deck in the Ozarks smells like on a rainy day. Enjoying it straight. I’ve had mixed luck with St. Dalfour varieties, but this one is tasty and perfect for fall.

Yesterday’s Paris Morning leaves freshened up with a spoonful of (rather aged) Adagio Caramel. Not exactly stellar, but a good way to stretch my supply of both. Reminds me of this litte tidbit from my Laura Ingalls Wilder reading days:

Use it up
Wear it out
Make it do
Or do without.

Yours Royally,
The Dutchess of Make It Do

I don’t generally crave green teas. (Need that club-you-on-the-head Assam/breakfast stuff.) So I guess it’s a something to say that this is becoming a particular favorite of mine. Not too vegetal, not too light, pleasantly cereally, enough personality that you know you’ve drunk something, instead of wrinkling up your forehead and wondering what just happened.