1593 Tasting Notes
Curiosity prompted the purchase of this sample rather than taste preferences; ginseng is traditionally too “rooty” to be very pleasant.
It’s a pleasure to be mistaken in this case—this is a nifty little combo with enough green tea to counteract the ginseng bark-i-ness. Just tastes fresh. The mate’ is doing something in the bass line as well, though I’m at a loss for an accurate flavor adjective.
At any rate, nicely done and a good eyes-open tea for those of you who really don’t like the dark, deep, builders’ blends.
Husband and I took a much-needed, irresponsible, AWOL, just-us day in Northwest Arkansas today. Discovered The Fresh Market in Rogers, which is the identical twin of a Whole Foods with a different name slapped on the front.
The “big names” in the tea aisle made me dance and giggle—Steven Smith Teamaker! Two Leaves and a Bud! Adagio! Harney and Sons! And a handful of Ambessa tins, one of which just had to come home with us. A treat I can’t wait to break into.
Work has been so mind-numbingly nuts of late I’ve been gasping for quiet and moments with no demands made of me.
Enjoying a few of those now, with a half-cup of Calm as a companion. Left the bag in, wonder if that’s the reason the licorice is coming through stronger than usual. The mint and other goodies in this blend keep it from getting too out of hand.
This one has been languishing unopened (that’s so wrong. Not opening new tea?) because my luck with Upton flavored teas has not been very good to date.
In this case, the advantage goes to Upton because I wouldn’t know a lychee if you bounced one off my forehead.
The unpleasant sticking point with the flavored Upton stuff is that it tastes very artificial and syrupy. This tastes floral, not artificial and not perfumey. Decent black tea base. Whether they’ve nailed lychee flavor, another expert will have to decide.
Could have good iced tea potential.
The pace at work the next three days promises to vacillate between screaminess and utter wild-eyed hysteria, so we’re at least starting the morning with a bit of calm and elegance before I start pulling my hair out in panic-induced wads.
This is sweet and subtle and cocoa-y. Stress subtle. Very good, but not for a morning caffeine jolt. Better for afternoon cookies, or for you gentle non-black-tea subtle people out there.
Work friend shared a generous sample of this one. It is gorgeous. You could put it in a jar and stare at it all day, it’s so colorful and zazzy.
And for a white tea, it does a good job of making its presence known. First cup was at work, so heated unevenly and with a bit too much water, and I still got a nice fruity-pie kick. Sweet but not tart.
Next cup gets more attention, less water, and is expected to be great.
What wimps we are. Storms again (sigh); this time just wicked lightning and torrential rain—5" in 2 hours, give or take, power out for 2; Internet out for several; you’da thunk it was the end of the world. So hard up for entertainment, I was reduced to tying newspaper scraps to string and teasing Tazo with them. (He is still officially an outdoor cat, but I needed a diversion desperately.)
So grateful for a “normal” morning, a functional heating source, and decent tea. This one has been hard to pin down. Decent, but not stellar; something a little sweet and cedar-y or raisiny going on, too. May be the first entry in my “Junk Yard” tin I intend to start.
A couple summers ago, when kind Steepies helped me replenish my tornado-crashed pantry, JacquelineM tucked in a tin filled with odds and ends of berry-flavored teas that, shaken together, made a quirky mystery grab bag of fruit flavor. Just enough left for one last jar of sun tea. Chilled, it’s a lovely treat to spend the day with. (Writing and doing grungy housework via the carrot-and-stick method: Write, sip. Vacuum, sip. Fold, sip. Dishes, sip.)
Also builds a strong case for me, when the tin is finally empty, to start a “scrap” tin of my own. Waste not, want not.