1928 Tasting Notes
Green tea doesn’t get enough love at my house: especially when I’m given the opportunity (Liquid Proust, I think this came from your stash) to try something new and fine. This is a tai ping hou kui of unknown provenance, but oh, how refined and smooth it is! Big ol’ wide, flat leaves that were generous and accepting of my sloppy, Midwest-farmer-messy-kitchen-western-style—steep. Was the color of good, light olive oil and satiny on the tongue. Tastes like sweet hay mown from a field that has honeysuckle growing in the fencerow. Thanks for the intro to this variety!
Labor Day weekend was not the restful idyll I had hoped for (unscheduled elder care needs at Dad’s farm, followed up with minor yucks of my own, and a day of catching up what I had to let go the other two days) so this morning called for some MUSCLE to get me moving. This Kaimosi fills the bill: stout, sharp, and a little fruity undertone I had not noticed the first time I tried it. I still intend to try it with some milk, but to this point, I’ve needed the tea hit so fiercely each time I’ve steeped this, I haven’t stopped to dilute it!
Our new little gourmet store (imaginatively called Gourmet’s ;) is an allowance trap baited with gadgets and gimcracks and candles and spice mixes and—-what I can’t pass by without stopping—a small but intriguing selection of bulk teas. At $1.39 to, oh, around $2.99 an ounce…one little bag can’t hurt!
This smelled yummy in the jar and came home with me. The dominating flavors are chamomile and vanilla, very sweet without that coating your tongue. (Didn’t pay very close attention to the ingredient list, but I think it is sans licorice, which is all right by me.)
It’s very similar to the Sleepytime Vanilla I brought home recently and enjoyed immensely, just lighter on the mint.
First, my apologies to K S, who graciously shared a bit ages ago, and I have been remiss in expressing my thanks…because this is tasty! It also holds up well to mistreatment (the baggie got wedged behind a couple of tins and I didn’t know it was there).
I don’t do Darjeeling often, so when I do, I’m pleasantly surprised. This particular variety is one of the “grapiest” Darjeelings I’ve tried; after half a cup, my mouth feels like I’ve had fruit juice. It has a …mmm, not delicate, maybe elegant or refined personality and would, no doubt, taste better from Grandma’s teacups than my battered Tervis tumbler that has suddenly started to behave like a dribble glass.
When I bought a box of 100 bags cheeeeeep at Big Lots for a lark, I thought I’d never go through it…so why are we down to a mere 20 or so? This is a serviceable, friendly, not fussy blend. The green adds a little bit of perk to an otherwise ordinary black tea and takes sloppy and absent-minded steeping without kicking back. This afternoon, it’s very pleasant on ice.
Made this with the intent of three warm sips, then ice it down at work…and suddenly I find there is very little left to ice. (Ever do that? Just look down and your cup is mysteriously empty?) Unsweetened, it has a little bit of a bitter edge to the sip—not sure if that’s sloppy steeping or if it’s a natural trait of huckleberries. You sweet people might like a bit of sugar or syrup in this, but otherwise, it’s a natural for summer sipping. Chilled, if you can let it alone that long.