41 Tasting Notes
Despite my BIG FANCY CLAIMS to the contrary, I have not been diligently logging my tea drinking. I am having a cup of Constant Comment now. I wonder where they get the orange seeds from. An orange juice company? Were they cheap at first? But then did the orange juice company suspect something was up and try to jack up the price? Who won?
It is unclear what relation this tea has to the Fleet Foxes song “White Winter Hymnal.” In one hypothetical scenario, Robin Pecknold becomes so bored drinking this pleasant but fairly mild tea that he suddenly writes a song to keep himself entertained for the moments it will take him to drink the remainder of his tea.
This tea was so drunk.
I’m just kidding, folks! The only sense in which this tea was drunk is the regard in which I drank it, which is to say, the tea was drunk by me. It’s like the Douglas Adams joke.
But racist “humor” is no joke. Self-deprecation is a tyrant far crueler than a thousand British empires. I guess it’s equally cruel to Oliver Cromwell, but he was a really bad guy.
Anyways, this tea was fine. Pleasant.