1873 Tasting Notes
Nothing but iced the rest of the day—carport thermometer registering at 102. It exaggerates a bit due to its placement, but hot is hot. Summer trying to burn itself out before September gets here.
At any rate, this one runs a little too mild for my breakfast preferences, but is a great cold steeper. Only a bit of sharpness.
Writing children’s activities with a farm theme. (ashmanra, you’re my muse. Lots of chicken and egg games. :) Sad to think that we’re raising a crop of kids who don’t know the pleasant smell of fresh hay, who’ve actually plucked a tomato bug off the vine, or hung out at the livestock barn at the county fair.
Savoy, our wonderful little regional (wish I could say local, but it’s 70 miles) tea shop does flavored green teas really well.
This one is right up to the mark: a well-rounded blend of several fruits (I’m getting lots of raspberry in this particular cup). Smells wonderful, both dry and steeped. Drinking my inaugural cup according to prep directions, but thinking the next round needs to be chilled.
It’s not often, here anyway, that the first semi-conscious thought that follows “I have got to change the stupid radio station on the alarm clock! I can’t stand those guys.” is “Oooh. Need Darjeeling.”
But it was this morning, and this was the DJ of choice. Even with an aged and none-too-carefully stored swappy bag, this is still rich and grape-juicy.
Cheating is such an ugly word, so let’s just say we caught Savoy in an act of creative relabeling. You know how when you shuffle the basket of half-packets just so, sometimes one bubbles up to the top you haven’t seen for a while? And when it bubbles right next to the one labeled “Misty Morning” and you notice the ingredient lists are identical, well…
Not that it’s an issue with something this tasty. Orange, almond, peppercorns, a little sweet vanilla flavoring. It’s all good, no matter what’s on the package.
Save Golden Fleece for a slow morning. This is definitely not one to gulp quickly while a travel mug while dodging crossing turtles (some days, my short morning commute is like Frogger).
This is gentle, honey-blonde both dry and steeped, rich and thick on the tongue and lips. Taste reminds me of sweet grain, puffed wheat.
Many of you have written long and lovely reviews of this one. Understandable! My thanks to Terri Harplady for yet another subtly satisfying sample!
An Ji Bai Cha Green Tea is a special green tea that contain an amount of amino acid, which is calming to the nervous system.
Some days God just looks out for you in ways you don’t expect. I closed my eyes, jammed my hand down to the bottom of the basket, and pulled this out. I need calmed :)
Furthermore, since little attention was being paid this morning, the sloppy user didn’t realize it was a green tea and dumped in just-off-boiling water and schlepped off for five minutes…and this is still fine, just fine. Grainy and toasty, like Wheat Chex.
Final pronouncement on the calming effect to be determined.
One of those weeks when life is so messy that tea doesn’t taste.’Nuff said.
After crying on and praying with a couple of dear friends and a couple of hours of sun-room/cat/Oreo therapy with my surrogate mom, I’m slightly closer to functional. (When she picked up the phone the other day, I said, “Hello? Is this Rent-A-Mom?”)
So I celebrated slight functionality by closing my eyes, picking a bag at, well, semi-random from the tea swap basket, and here we are.
This one is so good and fleece-blankety, looks like Terri Harplady wrote a song to it in one of her reviews some time back. It’s well deserving of odes and kudoes—-big ol’ blonde leaves; bright and bronzey at the first of the sip, rich and cocoa-y at swallow time.
Had to leave the leaves at home, but I’m eagerly anticipating a second stanza this evening. Thanks, Terri!