1482 Tasting Notes
First time to try this with milk…which turns it into a warm and comfy cup of hazelnut creamer. Really, really nice after-dinner treat.
Last of a sample packet. This one has been a bit different each time I’ve had it, little fruit here, little cocoa there. Final observation—a little too light for my breakfast preferences, mighty tasty otherwise, it’s a nice little kaleidoscope of flavors that would appeal to Darjeeling lovers.
Gobs of lavender + generous chamomile + slightly less tulsi
It was a ham hock and pirhana day yesterday; came dragging home metaphorically rubbing my hindquarters from all the bites taken out of it at work.
This desperation combination was really good; the more lavender, the less clove-y the tulsi. And the scent was wonderful. Everybody crashed early except me, so I had some silence to smell and sip and pray and unwind.
Forget valerian; tulsi has whatever my biochemistry needs to neutralize the jet-fuel adrenalin of a stressy day.
What’s left of this little packet from Michelle had sifted down to the realm of half-packages in my big black tea basket aand looked lonely.
As is the fate of plastic packets that have been canoodling with other lonely plastic packets, this one has likely lost a little strength from its heyday. So I still can’t isolate what gives lichee it’s licheness. Getting sort of a pleasant fruit cocktail afterglow as I drink. The black tea base is nicely balanced, too.
With all that said, this is good stuff! (Good stuff is often defined by the fact that the entire tumbler is gone before my five-minute commute is over.)
One that’s comfortable for “heavy drinking,” not just sipping.
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Of all the delicate, champagne-y colored oolongs I’ve tried, this is by far the sweetest. Has a really nice, pale steeped color and feels smooth in your mouth. (And if I say it tastes like sweet satin sheets K S had better not laugh at me.)
Definitely too light for anything but a quiet afternoon, but perfect in a silent Sunday afternoon house. (Sort of. My head is still echoing from a morning full of 10-year-olds at church. Today’s deep philosophical question: What would happen if Lady Gaga came to our church and what would she wear?)
Slow Sunday morning … ample time to check out a new tea … ahhh!
This one has autumn written all over it. (According to my son, there are really two mini-seasons, fall when the temps dip for the first time, and deep autumn, when there’s been a frost and the leaves are past their prime.) So by his seasonal calendar, I’m a few weeks early.
At any rate: nice leaves with plenty of blonde in them. The steeped color is absolutely gorgeous—deep reddish mahogany. Flavor leads off with some smokiness, but once that wears off, there’s a rich woody taste. Not sawdust; old oak and maple planks with a bit of cinnamon bark. Enjoying it plain too much to mess it up with milk.
You know, the fun thing about tea tasting is that it’s so crazily subjective…I could’ve said this tasted like a gym floor that had been mopped with Worcestershire sauce…and it still would’ve been accurate (who are we to contest the accuracy of each other’s taste buds)?
Enjoy whatever it is you’re tasting today.
FINISHED an article with an October 1 deadline that was a dickens to write. I can (temporarily before I plunge into another assignment) see the surface of my desk!
While I was working I guzzled enough heavy-caf stuff, I needed something a little lighter to celebrate the “done” feeling. This selection from the illustrious K S was just perfect. The fruit flavor is round and sweet, not thin and tart as in many fruited green teas. Not a bit of tartness.
Put my feet up while I was drinking, watched a Downton Abbey episode, and basked in the brief leisure.
MENOKA, not Menkota. I’ve been misspelling this for a month. Anybody know how to merge two tea listings, one which I created by accident?
Last of the sample pouch, so there was a little less than needed for a full two-cup pot. And that, I believe is the secret—lighter on the leaf, fruitier on the taste. And still enough “boot” to help me slam out 900 words…in time for a Monday morning deadline!
So my new tea buddy at work and I have been having a blast bringing each other oddball things and cackling over ingredient lists like Macbeth’s witches. She graciously brought me a precious mini-tin of flowering jasmine “hairballs” (as she called them) as a thank you for broadening her horizons a little.
I just typed in the tea company (?) name as it appears on the bottom of the tin. Couldn’t easily find a match online.
This tin has half a dozen little bundles. This one looked like a hairy kidney bean and unfurled from the center outward to reveal a nubby little flower that looked like a raspberry. So much fun to watch them “poof!”
Flavor of flowering teas—-usually, I’m not so excited about that part. Jasmine is a little perfumey for me. But this particular cup surprised me. Once I strained out the leaves (I don’t mind a stray strand here and there, but it was kind of chewy) there was a really nice honey flavor that counteracted the floral and stayed on your tongue in between sips.
I believe I’m the one whose horizons were broadened a bit this time around!