14 Tasting Notes
The pu erh itself isn’t exceptionally fabulous (good, rather), but it’s very well-balanced with the citron through all lengths of infusion. As the trader suggests, it’s not too sweet, and I find it adaptable and amenable to travelling, being rich and refreshing at the same time.
A loose, frosted pu erh like old khaki. It leaves slightly slimy-looking black-green nuggets in the pot, which I’m personally rather a fan of, and retains the same evocative scent of old boxes in the cup as it does in the packet. What little bitterness there is is superseded by an almost floral aftertaste, which comes out in a longer brewing time, and improves the tea. Rich (though not especially for a pu erh), and mellow.
The stock picture for this tea is misleading: it’s not red, but a fresh-hay mixture of green and straw and red-russet. It produces a refreshing, unfamiliar herbal-scented brew the colour of golden honey; I like it better for not being over-cured, but that may just be the batch I’ve found. Pleasing, but not a staple.
It does indeed have floaters.
An unimposing rooibos with barely-noticeable bergamot. The tea itself has a pleasant floral honey scent, but it suffers from being individually-bagged. The leaves are a nearly uniform autumn reddish-brown, and it produces a golden-red brew. I find it underwhelming and disappointing; it’s currently being used up in my cupboard rather than delighted over.
I keep this because occasionally people ask me for ‘normal’ tea. It’s very surprisingly good, has a wonderful roundness of flavour, and is balanced enough to drink weak as well as dark. The leaves are cut to be absolutely tiny but very uniform, so it steeps quickly into a builder’s tea. It lacks bitterness, can be bought in and around Somerset from corner shops, and is a favourite of a friend of mine to drink dark with milk and biscuits.