JMKauftheil

Drinkable. Barely.
As prolific as I enjoy being in these reviews, I’ll just sum it up with
Blegh.

It makes me crave (good) Moroccan Mint tea, though. I’d make myself some, but I’m lacking gunpowder. Oh well, life goes on.

Unrelated question to anyone reading: What’s a GOOD brand for Earl Grey? I’ve never been a fan of it, as I’m not particularly fond of flavored/scented teas in general, but I figure I might as well give it a fresh chance. I’ve rather neglected the United Kingdom in my tea venturing. On that note, what’s a good English/Scottish/Irish Breakfast tea?

Thanks in advance if anyone offers up info.

Again, I have no basis for comparison with this tisane. But, compared to its flavored counterparts, I muchly prefer my rooibos plain. And iced.
Though it’s somehow cold down here in Southern California, I still drink it cold. I mean, it’s nice warm, but it’s really spectacular iced. I know I’m going in circles here, but… iced. This is a tisane to have iced.
It’s absolutely refreshing – more thirst-quenching than water. If I could have a pitcher of this constantly in the refrigerator, I could give up soda easily. But, unfortunately, I’m just too lazy to keep brewing and icing the tea… I need a tea slave.
This is also the only drink I’ll pay for at Teavana bars. Even though it’s way over-priced. But, if you know the people who are managers, or just old cards, you can generally coerce a free drink out of them through negotiation – “I’ll buy four ounces of this, if you hook me up with a free drink”. The trick here is that Teavana employees work on commission, and only make money for the product they sell, but not on the drinks they make. Sometimes you can spend less money on the leaf than you’d be paying for the drink.

In any case, this is a great herbal to ice up if you haven’t tried it before, though you might want to wait until the warmer months. Or, if you want to get some now, it’s also great hot, or even room temperature -a very versatile drink.

It’s been a long night, and my fingers smell like tobacco. I spent over an hour on my balcony, taking things apart, and piecing them back together. I went through three cigarettes, which, as I’ve mentioned before, I detest. I make a habit to drink this tea whenever I smoke, because it’s a detox for the nicotine.

I bought this tea for college, because I knew I’d be taking in a lot of tobacco and alcohol. I started smoking right before I came here, and my roommate is 25 – and more than willing to bring into the dorm anything from beer to sake into the dorm.
This isn’t a very tasty herbal. In my first experience tasting this tea in the Puripan shop, (don’t bother searching for a local one unless you live in Korea or the San Francisco Bay Area), I found it a bit repulsive. But, as the need came, I bought it, and, like most peculiar flavors, it’s a taste you acquire.
I’ve only got a cup or so left of the stuff. I’ll need to buy more when I go back home for thanksgiving.

I smoke to remind myself that I’m a hypocrite, and that I do things that are in no one’s best interest. I drink Lotus Leaf tea, because I want to clean up and fix things. It’s a hard taste to get used to, and it takes time. Gradually, I’ll make the confrontations, admissions, and apologies. For now, I continue to make smoke clouds, and look for repentance in lotus leaves.

No notes yet.

It’s a bag tea. A cheapo bag tea.
Another product of my late-night adventure shopping.
It smells like pot.
I’ve never smoked marijuana, but I know what it smells like. It smells like this tea. Well, a lot stronger than this tea, which has a very weak scent, but you get the idea.
Guess how it tastes.
I’ll give you a hint. Bad.

So, I went to the supermarket at 1AM to buy some water and a few groceries. And some teas. To review. Someone save me.

On to the review. Wait, not yet. Lemme critique the tea’s description instead, K? Just one line of it, really:
Oolong tea is often called the “champaigne of teas”.

Point A: You mean “Champagne”? Or “champaign”? Because the world you put doesn’t exist. So let’s assume it’s the former, seeing as “champaign” refers to “level, open country”.
Point B: “CHAMPAGNE” of teas? You mean Darjeeling teas?

Okay, that aside. The tea sucks. It has a flat, two-dimensional taste, and it just leaves an unsatisfactory taste in my mouth. The leaves, though not broken, look a bit ravaged. You can also tell by the way they look dry how… bad it will taste.
I think I bought this tea to hate it. And, in that sense, I was not disappointed. Also the leaves aren’t that fragrant.

Okay, I’m not done criticizing not just this tea, but the company. The site makes me sick. dragonpearltea.com
The worst part is the customer comments section.
Hey guys, who am I?
“This is the bombest tea ever!”
I’m Jordan. No last name provided.
These customers obviously have no knowledge of what good tea really is, and have probably only tasted bag teas.

So, I’m done being a jerk with this tea. Onto my next tea. It’s gonna be worse.
By the way, anyone want the left overs? I know for a fact that I’m never going to brew this again. You can even have the tin. According to the label, there should be 29-39 servings left ;)

Slurpaslurp. I brewed it better this time.
I made it, because I felt like drinking a “bulk” tea, and I had just transferred it to a tin that was appropriately titled “Lapsang Souchong.” Ignoring their tea quality, Peet’s makes pleasing tins – though they are a bit hard to open if you can’t get leverage.
Actually, I really brewed this because I wanted to post about it. I brewed it better this time, but that’s besides the point. I skipped both my classes today, and drank this tea. I’m going to keep going like this until a direction forms…

After I transferred it from the Teavana tin, I noticed there was a good amount of dust left over. I wish I had a bag to brew it in. Oh well. Teavana tins are too tall and thin. My hand barely fit in there. I say this because I had to whip it out – don’t want my next tea smelling like smoked meats.
I felt like writing literature, but I feel uninspired so I’m writing this, instead. I could write a story about this, yes, but my audience isn’t very tea-literate. I could also be doing the essay that was due today. Hah.

I wish we could leave reviews on the companies themselves. I’d have a thing or two to say about Teavana. That’s f’sho. Teavana doesn’t even deserve the proper spelling out of “for sure.”

I want to forget school forever, and drown myself in tea. I think I might try tonight. I need more clean water, though, for my nice teas. That means I have to bike down to 7-eleven. Or up to the supermarket. (When I say up and down, I mean it. This is a city built on slopes.)

The point of all this? I need a woman. I’m sick of school, sick of roommates, sick of looking at pretty, shallow girls scattered across the campus, sick of dealing with one of the few people I care about, who’s 300 miles away, hating me, sick of using tobacco as a substitute muse for lack of lover (I REALLY hate smoking), and sick Southern California in general. I’m also sick of making up for my lack of social life/tolerance of my peers, by writing reviews about tea.

I’m sorry. Really, I am.

As an oolong, it’s great. For the Oolongs I’ve had from Adagio, I’d probably put this at the top of the list. Definitely had the mountain peak taste, and rates above your average Dong Ding, or other Taiwanese leaf. Good, bright color, and had that light, buttery taste that’s characteristic of the higher teas.
But again, I’ve had better teas from the same category.

While this tea was able… to lift me, it didn’t transcend me as much as other Ali Shans have. By that, I mean… I did EXPERIENCE the tea, as you can only really do with the finer ones, but it didn’t take me away from the real world. I will give it credit for moving me, though.

Less abstractly, now…
Good leaf color, not too many stems, and a nice smell. I will note, though, that the leaves’ fragrance seemed to weaken as I brewed, where it usually gets stronger for me. Also, post brew, as I played with the leaves, I wasn’t impressed. While it seemed to be more or less all whole leaf, the leaves weren’t in the best quality, and they’re not quite as aesthetically pleasing as the leaves I’ve had from finer Taiwanese teas. I know there’s something…off in them, but I’m not tea-educated enough to be able to pick it out precisely, or put it into adequate words.

So, I’ll leave it at this. If you like oolongs, this is a nice tea. I’m sure I’ll brew it again, and use it as a “fancy tea” for guests. For my personal tastes, I’ve been a bit blessed in my tea experiences, and this doesn’t quite meet my expectations, and thus doesn’t completely satisfy. In the end though – a good tea, worth buying, especially if you haven’t tried finer oolongs before.

Lungjing, I’ve a feeling we’re not in China anymore…

Well, this tea lacks character. Not the tea itself, as a whole, but Adagio’s product. The flavor is just a bit… safe. The leaves are also very often broken. Adagio says its “First Grade” – and, well, it sure is pretty elementary.

Well, this is another tea that my own experience prevents me from really enjoying.
So, I brewed the leaves the only way I find natural now – in a cup. (actually, it should be a glass, but my “glasses” are plastic.) For all you people brewing this in a pot, and timing it… forget it. Leaves, cup, water. That’s all you need. Start sipping after a minute or so, and you’ll enjoy it more.

This is a habit I picked up in China, because that’s how they do it there. My father and I visited the beautiful country around the time of a lungjing harvest in April, and almost everyone was serving it – cafes, restaurants, you name it. They also often serve plain, in-the-shell sunflower seeds with the tea – why, I don’t know. But it was a great combination.
So, not only was I able to experience this tea fresh from the country, my father and I, while in Hangzhou, visited the Dragonwell village. My mother has Paris, I have Lungjing village, I tell you. That was my first time seeing, in person, acres of tea bush. Gorgeous. And every home there processed and served their own tea – the taste varied from house to house.
I never liked Dragonwell until I visited China.

So, on that note…
I can’t really enjoy this tea. It’s not fresh, and I’m not in a Chinese person’s house, trying to buy a tin through a language barrier, or sipping it next to the West Lake. Adagio, you can sell me the mediocre tea, but you can’t sell me the things that should go with it.

Well, this tea had a somewhat smokey taste…
I kid, I kid.

It was alright. I got it at Teavana, because they were selling the tea, and the tin it was in, at 30% off. It was a tempting combination of price reduction, my lack of Lapsang Souchong back in my dorm, and the fact that I always have room for another tin. Always.

Lapsang is always a good tea for the day-to-day, and a nice (and inexpensive) trick for inexperienced tea guests, to whom you can play the resident alchemist. Despite its characteristic scent, it’s not really much of a “special” tea in my book of tastes. Very distinct, yes, and probably the easiest black tea you could ever distinguish by scent, but the taste isn’t absolutely enthralling.

Evading classes today, mostly because I didn’t redraft my essay or annotate an article for English. Also, I need to catch up on sleep, because I failed to do that on my usual friday afternoon through monday break. So, I made a pot of this for myself and my roommate, who’s working on his second essay, something about relating a book to the philosophy of Nietzsche and some other guy, for class today.

Tea’s a little sour this morning. No fault of Teavana’s, just my own – I think the water was a bit under temp. What I will call teavana out on, is calling this “superior grade.” I’ve tasted some fine black teas in my time, and this is no SFTGFOP1, my friends. Not that I trust much of what Teavana says, anyway…

Fortunately for me, my roommate’s only tea experience really comes from me, so he won’t notice the poor brew. On that same note, the tea holds nothing enticing for him – he has no sense of smell. This time, I don’t kid.

In any case, this tea generally isn’t anything too exciting, once you get past the smell (which I, personally, like). I like the color, and the taste is pretty smooth for me. A good any-time tea, and Teavana can’t mess this one up TOO bad. One of the few teas I don’t have too many qualms with buying from them. On the other hand, maybe someday I’ll taste some absolutely astounding Lapsang, and have another reason to look down on this company.

In any case, I guess I didn’t talk much about the tea here. Oh well. Ignorant sippings away!

Well…
A good, smooth brew, yes. Water has a nice color, much more brown than most greens, and the flavor is a bit roasty. A nice tea to suit a taste that you might have, so a good tea to keep around. Hardly vegetal tasting, and the flavor isn’t too bold or mild.

Now for the kicker:
I compared this to a Bilouchun I bought at Mountain View Tea Village, a Bay Area store that I’m pretty sure is independently-owned by a Taiwanese family. The tea I got there was competition grade – I believe it placed first.

So how does it match up?
When compared, there’s a notable lack of nuance and delicacy. The Adagio tea seems to have a bolder leaf, keeping a good flavor in a broader temperature range. The competition-grade leaf, however, has a much narrower range of acceptable temperature – but, with that narrowness comes quality.
The flavor, truly, is rather different. They’re in the same realm of course, and a less discriminate tongue could probably find them pretty identical. The differences are really in line with the general comparisons that can be made between mediocre and quality tea. As I’ve mentioned, the delicacy, nuance, character, etc.

When it comes to the leaves, there’s an immediate visual difference. The Adagio leaves are a much lighter green before and after brewing, and I noticed there’s a lot of broken leaf, as well as a few stems. The comp. grade leaves have a much deeper hue, and are composed only of while leaf and there are no stems. As for smell… no comparison. the competition tea is very fragrant, rich and characteristic, while I find the adagio to be a bit light and generic-smelling.

This has been a bit of a beat-up on Adagio’s Pi Lo Chun, but keep in mind the scales were immediately tipped against it. As a basic tea, I enjoyed it, really. I’d say, though, if you really enjoy this tea, and you have the money, give the quality stuff a shot – you’ll be pleased by this tea at its finest.

Part of the green savant sampler. Was very excited when my teas got delivered today.

As TeaEqualsBliss pointed out, definitely a great tea for a beginner. Mild and smooth, and doesn’t lack at all that Chinese Green flavor. Very mellow, yes – but maybe a little bit too much. I had trouble picking out anything that would make this tea distinct or memorable.

As for the smell, the dry leaves have a pleasant fragrance, that would be suitable for scenting a room. Subtle, and even a bit fruity. That smell is misleading, though. One brewed, the leaves take on a scent similar to the taste – vegetal, but not unpleasant. Maybe I just like it because I spend too much time with tea…

Brewing wise, it has a lasting flavor. I got a good four infusions out of it before I took a break to record. Do note, though, that I was brewing it in a gaiwan, not a teapot. The open leaves fill about half the vessel, so my proportions are probably much different than that of what one would brew in a tetsubin or something.

The liquor was very light, and the brewed leaves are a bit bitter to eat, but somewhat delightful. Though the flavor is nothing to write home about, it is pleasant and elegant. Not a bad tea at all, especially for the price. Worth keeping around for times when you don’t want to just gulp down some tea, but you’re not in the mood for anything extravagant.
Probably something I’d buy more of in the future… if I remember it.

No notes yet.

Normally one of my favorites, but tonight was a little different.
I take the blame for this one, it was my own steeping that ruined it. But I learned something: while this tea can handle longer brew times, it shouldn’t be steeped indefinitely.

I got home from hanging out with my sister and her friend, and decided to brew myself the last of my Dragon Bone, (mostly because it opened up a tin for an awaiting tea).
Turns out I forgot about it, and left it on my desk.
So, a five hour nap later…

The liquor is REALLY dark…like, black, almost. The taste is unpleasant – harsh, with a sour finish. I only took a few sips before pouring it out. It made me feel gross.

So, lesson of the day:
Don’t hot-brew a tea, even one that is almost entirely stems, for five or six hours. Seriously.

No notes yet.

As with many products that are more obscure against the American mainstream for tea, I jump into a description of this with an ignorance to the culture and taste. Though I lack any means of comparison, I will give Lupicia the benefit of the doubt – they’re more reputable than Teavana, and the company IS based in Japan, after all, and this is a Japanese tea. So, judging this tea blindly…

A nice bulk tea, for casual absent-minded sipping. I don’t bother brewing it in my tetsubin, I just throw a few leaves in a cup, and add the water. The leaves are broad, so the these and the stems make a good filter from the smaller broken leaves that sink to the bottom. Good for sitting around and watching TV, using the computer, reading, etc.
While the leaves are fragile, the flavor isn’t so delicate. Unlike most greens, this tea isn’t finicky in the least. Water temp and steep time are of minimal importance, which is why there’s really no problem with leaving the leaves in the cup.
It’s a bold flavor, with a bit of a two-dimensional character. You’re not going to get elegance in a cup with this one, but it’s not very expensive. While it’s a rather flat flavor, and you can forget a resteep, it’s a nice taste.
In my opinion, this would be a good tea to keep around for someone who just wants to substitute unhealthy beverages, and needs something easy to brew or wants something a bit weaker than black tea in the morning. It might go good with meals, but I haven’t tried so I wouldn’t be able to say. All in all, it’s a nice, smooth drink to have on hand while I’m on my laptop, especially when I don’t want to get the sugary-discomfort of soda.

If you’re buying this tea from Lupicia, or probably any other tea store that sells by weight, expect a large package – these leaves are much less dense than most. On that note, if you want to keep it fresh, make sure you have a large tin or two. Seriously. It’s a VERY large volume for the weight.
On that note, I just finished out my tin, so now I have a space for one of the nice teas I picked up before I came to college :). Maybe next time I get this (which wouldn’t be before I go home for thanksgiving) I’ll look into the history and customs for this tea.

To sum it up, Kyobancha is nothing special, but it has its place in the world of tea.

One of the three teas I picked up in the Wing Hop Fung shop in LA’s China town. This tea, a Formosan Oolong, was going for $68 a pound, and I got a few ounces. I’d say it was a very fair price.

Though I’m not certain, I’m assuming this was grown at a higher elevation, judging by the taste. There’s truly not much that separates this tea from most of the finer Taiwanese mountain Oolongs I’ve had. In that sense, it has its pros and cons.
This isn’t going to be the everyday Dong Ding you’ll find in most retail tea shops. There’s definitely the nuance and delicacy of a finer tea, and it should be enjoyed as such. This is a tea to make in a gaiwan or small teapot, and to be served at least somewhat ceremoniously – even if that means you just have a small brewing vessel and a bowl, make sure you’re in the right mood and atmosphere to appreciate the flavor and more meditative qualities to the tea.
On the flip side, this tea doesn’t quite stand out to me. While very enjoyable, it has yet to leave an impression on me – perhaps after a few more tries, it’ll stick. As for now, I have fonder memories of finer, high-elevation Ali-Shan Oolongs. Perhaps it’s just my spoiled tongue that overlooks this tea.

As for the details: Smooth, with very slightly creamy taste in there. There are a notable number of stems, nearly all the leaves are attached to them, but it doesn’t add too much boldness to the flavor. Very capable of multiple-steeping, though I didn’t brew it enough to find the flavor’s threshold.
The water color is a light, bright green – one of Oolong liquor’s gorgeous shades. Like many Taiwanese teas, very fragrant – I took a few moments taking in the scents from my gaiwan’s lid, afterward. The spent leaves where a bit chewy, and some were a bit bitter where others were rather mild. Again, I’m not sure how safe or healthy it is to eat the leaves.

Overall, a good tea. Within a very large selection of great teas, I wouldn’t consider it a leaf for special occasions, but it’s definitely a type of “bulk” tea to have on hand for daily or time-to-time serious tea sessions.

No notes yet.

I purchased this in Los Angeles’ Chinatown, at a shopping center called Wing Hop Fung. It was $80 a pound, and I got a few ounces. Though I was a bit off-put by the flavor of the sample in the store, as it had been sitting out for who knows how long, I decided to buy it anyway – This was my first chance to buy Yellow tea.

Very glad I made the decision to buy it. I brewed it fresh in a tea set from the same store (wonderful, complete glass set for an amazingly low price,) and I was very pleased. Though I can’t truly compare this to any other teas of the genre, I can tell there was definite quality to this tea.
There were definitely tastes of both Green and White tea. It had that distinct, natural taste of White tea – the one you need to get used to, and that puts most people of White tea from the start – as well as what I’d relate to the buttery finish of Lung Jing Green. Mild, and not a hint of bitterness. For the moment, I prefer Yellow tea to White.

A side note – Out of curiosity (and slight hunger) I decided to try eating the leaves afterward. I’ve tried this with other teas, but this is by far the most pleasant leaf I’ve tried. It’s Silver Needle, so the leaves are very soft and tender, though a bit tasteless; but on the same note, not bitter. I’m chewing through the leaves as I write this…
Hope that’s not toxic at all.

Holy Crap!
Truly something enticing. Really had that unique and characteristic Darjeeling smell and taste, but with the nuance and beauty of Oolong. I was expecting a mediocre, amateur Oolong, but this really added a new facet to my favorite type of tea.

I’m impressed – astonished even.

Let’s hope the plantations of Darjeeling starting hitting the docks with first-flush Oolongs in the near future.

A taste similar to Teavana’s Six Summits – that may be a distorted memory, because I haven’t had Six Summits in a very long time, and I had the Monkey Picked two or three months ago.

Not as good as I expected, honestly. Nothing near it.
Perhaps better quality than most oolongs in the Teavana selection, but that’s not a great feat.
Compared to the truly great oolongs I’ve tried (competition grade TKY, Black Dragon Pearl, Competition grade Alishan, several high-peak Taiwanese oolongs), Teavana’s Monkey Picked can’t hold a match. It just doesn’t have that much body; the taste dies too quickly. It didn’t quite produce the nuance I was looking for.
I’ve found more satisfying teas with less hype at Lupicia, as well as a few other more obscure tea shops.
I didn’t bother finishing the two ounces I bought.

As far as Moroccan Mint teas go, this is definitely not the best. Maybe it’s because because the mint and leaves have been mixed in together for a period of time, or just because Teavana tends to have low-quality, but it tasted a bit stale to me when I did a comparison to Moroccan Mint I blended myself with tea from other sources.
Your best bet is getting it somewhere else, or, at the very least, buying the two ingredients separately, whether from Teavana or elsewhere. An advantage to the latter option is that you have more control over the green to mint ratio.

Eh…
Wasn’t crazy about this one. Thought I would, but it was really not something I’d buy again.
It did have an interesting taste when iced – interesting, not quite astounding. I did prefer it iced to hot, though.

No notes yet.