1873 Tasting Notes
Dry, this smells lovely and sweet grapey; steeped, it holds up nicely as well. Even unsweetened, it has a sticky, lip-smacking sweetness and fruit punch short of flavor.
Thanks, Liquid Proust. After a weekend of heavy housework, which made me only moderately sore, yesterday, I bent down to adjust a sock and pinched a nerve so badly it’s been 36 hours of winching, ouching, and wallowing on a heating pad. Out here in the backyard, this was spring in a cup: a lovely something to get my mind off my miz’ries. (It would have been so much better if I had messed up my hip doing something daring—rock climbing…hauling my canoe off Elk River…playing soccer with my church kids…but a sock? Good grief.)
Without sweetening, this is still a rich and creamy dessert tea, heavier flavor emphasis on the creamy than on the chocolate. That could change with the addition of sugar; I just don’t sweeten tea. Instead I splooshed in a little almond milk and it still made a pleasantly decadent breakfast for a slow Sunday morning.
Raspberry leaf for medicinal purposes tastes like the green leaf, not the red berry. As such, it’s not particularly tasty steeped on its own. Mint makes a nice complement, but sometimes it’s nice to have an herbal option with a little more punch. So I dumped in about a teaspoon of good ol’ Pappy’s sassafras concentrate. The chemistry is a little funny; makes the combo a little oily looking, but it’s quite tasty. Like spring in the Ozarks.
Haven’t said much about this, but it’s made repeat appearances at the house now—it’s a respectable and decent black morning tea. Flavor strength is right in the middle, maybe pointing a scootch toward the dark/deep side instead of bright/brassy. Takes sloppy steeping OK. Those of you who’ve read more than three of my reviews know that’s a winner for me.
This morning, however, due to cloggy and lumpy spring sinuses, I’m getting banana vibes out of it. An unexpected tea adventure :) It’s me, not the leaves!
Chose this for caffeine delivery rather than subtle flavor nuances. I love it that, though it’s double-strength caffeine, it still has a pretty gentle English Breakfast personality—doesn’t curdle your tongue with bitterness, even after a nice, long steep. Good with milk. Great when you have an 8:30 a.m. meeting and a 4:45 a.m. brain.
Temperate rain in the forecast caused us to pull out our potted mints that we had mulched and tucked on the edge of the carport to snooze out the winter. Removed the mulch to see what fared well…best out of the batch was the catnip. The cats found it immediately, and due to my incompetence with a camera phone, you all missed some of the funniest feline gyrations—they rubbed their muzzles in it, practically turning their heads 360 degrees to wallow in it to full effect; Tazo tried to climb in the pot…all to say, I got to steep me some of that when it matures this spring!
Inspired by their enthusiasm, I’m enjoying a sweet and fresh strong tisane with applemint from last summer’s backyard crop. Come on, warmth and sunshine!
If you read my string of notes for straight-up tulsi, every last one is related to a rock-bottom, scraping-the-dregs-of-the-barrel physical or emotional trauma. Today is no exception. Daylight savings jet lag catching up with me; an unpleasant four-year-old tornado-related insurance headache catching up with us; it’s time to call in the big guns. I am grateful to have discovered a natural medicinal that won’t chase all the big uglies away, but helps to hold them at bay for a while so I can catch my breath.
Truthfully, I’m not sure what brand this is—it’s from the bulk bin at our indie grocery. (I’m not sure that San Francisco Herb Co. is their preferred supplier now.) But it’s lemony, clovey, warm and light.