1835 Tasting Notes
Flip through the reviews for this one…it is a kaleidoscope tea. Changes with every tasting and with every taster. Allspice. Cloves. Honey. Mushrooms. Sweet grass. Shoelaces. (No, not really.)
And who’s to say any of those descriptors are wrong?
Today my descriptor is “sunlight through gold maple leaves at 58 degrees.” It tastes like that. Really.
(Thanks again to Terriharplady for the sample, which is gratefully sipped down.)
First, thanks to Single Origin Teas for the sample. They’re in Dallas. Texas tea. (Cue banjo…) (Sorry, couldn’t resist.) (Also tamping down the Princess Leia voice in my head saying, Help me, OP1!)
This is bright, brassy, perky, happy tea. Warmth in its overall personality. A little sweetness at the end of each sip. It’s understandable that the Single Origin description says this would welcome chai spices. Bet it would be pleasant iced, too.
Jury’s still out on the strength of the caffeine clout; first cup makes me lean toward a judgment call of “afternoon tea,” but it’ll be a pleasant afternoon if you spend it with a cheerful cup of this tea. You’ll like it. Trust me.
This is so ubiquitously available in other parts of the world, I have felt a need to try it just so I can say I did. Thanks to Spencer, I have now been initiated.
And pleasantly so. Gave it a good long Monday morning I-don’t-wanna-deal-with-the-world steep. Side by side with a bag of Lipton, I’d say it’s a bit smoother, a scootch less acidic. Tried this cup straight up, but a little milk would be a nice accompaniment.
Though it isn’t easy to find in this part of the Midwest, it gets a vote here for “good pantry tea.” Hope yours is stocked well.
I am far too impressionable. I lit a French Baguette candle, started working on Thanksgiving cards, which prominently feature pie; son walked in and said “Pushing Daisies!” So here I am marathoning several episodes instead of tidying my messy craft table.
Speaking of impressionable, if you saw a lovely bulk jar of pu-erh at your favorite local indie herb and tea shop for fifty cents an ounce, wouldn’t you bring home two ounces simply on the merit of cheap-itude alone? (And if you wouldn’t, don’t judge.)
Return on investment: excellent. Big, thick leaves; leans to the sweet-earthy spectrum instead of the minerally-cave water wavelength, although there’s a little mineral in the background. I’m seeing a few tossed-in cocoa nibs next cuppa.
Tazo purrs like a Tribble. We let him in for breakfast because it is a nippy 48 outside and he (Who am I kidding? He spells I) was cold.
So we (that’s us, not the royal we) are enjoying this sweet, stout, rich, chocolately cup with a little swish of milk and a little scrap of peace. Again, this is not what one expects with a typical breakfast tea. It far surpasses those sleepy expectations.
Then…off to my 10-year-old bundles of mayhem. One of them, last week, demonstrated his skills in forward somersaulting, backward somersaulting, cabinet climbing, table diving, and chair balancing. Rough family life. He needs a lot of love. I’m praying for an ample supply of it.
I am nowhere near the point I had hoped to be, to-do-list-wise, come sundown, but we try to let Saturday dinner mark the beginning of our rest day. Thus, I will pretend that the baskets of folded laundry in the living room are eclectic decorating touches and enjoy a little quiet with my feet up and a carefully hoarded cup of vanilla goodness (supply dwindling).
In honor of a deliciously chilly day, sun lowering beneath the flat layer of rain clouds draped over the sky all afternoon, I popped in a cinnamon stick while it steeped. Perfect scent of a cinnamon roll in the cup.