1892 Tasting Notes
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.