1942 Tasting Notes
Working outside my normal environs this week, but it allows me to pick through other people’s tea stashes, intrepid explorer that I am. Considering that this one was clumsily made in a Kuerig that still had some coffee backwash in it, it’s pretty pleasant. Never had ginkgo before so I’m not sure what my tastebuds should be hunting for, but the green/citrus combination does cancel out potential green tea bitterness.
May swap another bag with something of my own so I can try it in more…sanitary? fortuitous? circumstances.
Ever notice how insomnia kicks in, not prior to a day when you don’t really need to be at peak performance, but immediately preceding a day that will be physically and/or mentally exhausting on general principles.
Yeah, well, after losing a wrestling match with the blankets last night and early morning, I gave up at 3:57 a.m. and realized my heart was going like I had been engaged in a WWF grudge match. So this was my morning tea instead of something caffeinated. It didn’t do a thing for mental clarity, but it did ratchet down the boogity-boogity adrenaline and palpitations.
If you have nothing else in your medicine cabinet this winter, get some of this and some peppermint and you’ll be well armed against 90% of what ails ya.
Neither weather nor schedule (writing conference; intense planning followed by marathon knocking out of curriculum content) next week are conducive to much time outdoors, so I’m trying to tank up on fresh air—a teeny bit of leaf sweeping followed by a long session in the glider sopping up the gold and orange tree color that’s so strong you can taste it.
This is what I chose to enjoy while tanking up my personal solar battery. Smooth and gentle green tea, a little cereal sweetness to it. Ignore the package instructions (1 minute)—it takes two well, and it resteeps well. Perfect for an afternoon so quiet you can hear the leaves rustle.
You’d want something sweet and fragrant, too, if you were awakened at 4:15 a.m. by a rogue stink that made you panic that the central heat unit was burning…and then you realized that the stink was skunk skinking around outside somewhere. Love rural-burban life!
Since I first met Marco, I’ve also been introduced to several taste-alikes that are equally fruity and a little less persnickety (this one requires a careful steeping eye). H & S Tower of London comes the closest according to my palate. Still, Marco Polo is the gold standard that I judge fruit teas by.