1921 Tasting Notes
This little jar of nuggety goodness was a gift; normally I don’t choose chai for myself.
However, it’s fun to play “Where’s Waldo?” with all the ingredients—cinnamon chunks, fennel, fennel and more fennel, black peppercorns…tried a few sips straight up and it was not too bitter as a stand-alone. However, the addition of half-and-half and some brown sugar smoothed it out beautifully. Available in bulk, this gets a Cheapster Steepster thumbs-up for frugality as well.
I don’t generally catch myself saying, “Self, you need to buy yourself some green tea.” (It’s usually, “Self, you need to spend more money than you need to on bundles and batches of black tea and caffeinate yourself into a coma.”) But if I told myself that, this would be on the short list. Precise balance of greeny and cereally; a second steep holds up nicely; even better when you’re drinking it from your Favorite Sunny Spot.
Overindulgent snack days at work call for something light and mildly medicinal at home. Straight up lemongrass, no additives, clean and mildly sweet to compensate for too many Lil’ Smokies in barbecue sauce and Chex Mix.
Like chamomile and peppermint—it’s pretty hard to distinguish any major variance in lemongrass flavoring, so my Cheapster Steepster recommendation is to buy it loose and inexpensively at the health food store instead of boxed, bagged, and branded.
Much-postponed Christmas swap with a friend today; she’d been Goodwilling and I am now in possession of a lovely heavy white ceramic dome-shaped pot and cups and saucers with delicate sage green leaves that make me feel like I’m handling spring. The pot is great—I love friends who understand the value of utilitarian vs. cutesie things that don’t hold heat and you can’t pour out of.
Anyway….also a selection of four of her fave teas to try in said pot; all from our favorite local bulk jars. The manufacturer description is very accurate. The dry leaves are redolent of cloves. (Redolent—isn’t that a nice, relaxing adjective? And one I didn’t have to make up, either.) The steeped color is rich and sultry amber. Flavor—-succulent. The orange is pithy, not painfully tart; deep, sweet cloves that warm your tummy but don’t bite your tongue.
While I don’t think I’ll ever manage to pare down my tea stash to the lean and mean chosen few that I really have the space for, of late, I’m finding myself gravitating to comfortable tried-and-true basics that wear as well as an old bathrobe.
This is one. Today, used a larger mug with the same amount of leaf, so it’s lightly-silk-and-toasty instead of the heavier cocoa-ness that comes out in a stronger concentration. And it’s still good.
I rarely mess with ratings and slider bars, but this one I’m dragging all the way to the end of the happy scale.
Closest match I could find on the Boston Tea website for the bagged green tea in my little treasure chest.
Not as good as Boston Tea’s Dragonwell, but still a mild, unfinicky, slightly cereally green. Was perfect for an afternoon feet-up break from writing (deadlines looming) and housework (who let the floor get so skanky?)