10 Tasting Notes
I picked up some dandelion tea (probably not this brand) at a co-op last year out of curiosity. This was the first time I’ve tried it. Verdict? Meh. It’s not bad-tasting, but it’s not terribly appealing either. I imagine this is one of those teas that you drink because you’re specifically expecting some sort of health benefit. I’ll probably just be relegating this to the back of the closet.
Today I used up the last of this, about a teaspoon for a pot that holds 2-3 cups. It came out much better than the last time I tried it (I think I like this one on the weak side), but it’s pretty bitter and I’m not noticing any throat-soothing qualities at all. I’d stick with Throat Coat if you’re looking for something to make you feel better.
My default black tea at work. Has a nice robust flavor and is forgiving of being left to steep forever. Nothing fancy, just straight black tea. I like that it’s fair trade.
Best infuser I’ve used – the very flat mesh is very easy to clean. My favorite way to use this is in the Curve Teapot (http://en.forlifedesign.eu/pour-le-service/curve-teapot-1-3l.html#color=15), which is designed to be exactly the right size with the infuser. Lid fits snugly on the top, tea is nicely infused in the pot, cleanup is easy, I’m happy. I’ve used the infuser in mugs and other teapots with success, but having it exactly fit the Curve pot is incredibly helpful.
Perfect to drink whenever your throat is feeling raw. The instructions say to steep it for fifteen minutes; it’s worth doing this if you have a really terrible throat, but I like to put a cover on top of the cup to try to keep it warm while it’s steeping. A thermos would be an even better idea.
A very nice blend, and if you happen to be in DC, it’s absolutely worth it to go buy a cup in their shop. Try a salty oatmeal cookie, too, while you’re there. It’s a pretty expensive tea to buy to bring home, and I’d usually rather spend the money on a good Kashmiri Chai loose leaf, but this is still definitely a favorite.
I bought this years ago in an Asian grocery store because the idea of artichoke tea seemed bizarre and fantastic, but I still haven’t taken the plastic off the box. One of these days.
Every morning for as long as I can remember, my father’s breakfast has consisted of a pot of black tea and a slice of toast. My mother would put a bag of Typhoo into the pot first thing after stumbling out of bed. Then, after putting the kettle on, her sleep-addled brain would decide she’d forgotten to put a teabag in the pot and she’d go add a second one; then, after packing his lunch, she’d end up adding another one, and a fourth right before pouring the boiling water into the pot. Needless to say, I grew up drinking this brewed very strong. (These days, my father makes his own tea and packs his own lunch, and my mother sleeps in. Quite right, too.)
When I was in high school and stumbling toward my 6:00AM choir practice, I’d pour this into a travel mug and absent-mindedly dump about half the sugar bowl in with it. These days, I try to be better about limiting my sugar to a more reasonable half-spoonful, but whenever I’ve had an absolutely terrible week, I brew up an extra strong pot of Typhoo and go mad with the sugar. Maybe it doesn’t reflect the most refined palette, but it tastes like home.
A few mint leaves plucked straight from the plant and steeped in hot water. This is on the mild side, almost too weak, but it has lovely delicate flavor and is particularly nice if you’re feeling a little queasy.