I am increasingly fond of this chai. There’s something remarkably uncommon about the smoke-laced depths of it. It still reminds me of re-enactment villages and antique shops, and the stony fire pits of the Anasazi…or maybe venerable old houses made of good, creaking wood, with big flagstone fireplaces.
Something about it smells almost undeniably feminine to me, too. I cannot for the life of me tell you what the reason for that might be; the tea doesn’t smell floral or sweet or fruity, but somewhere in the back of my mind, it sets off little bells of familiarity strong enough to warrant the thought.
It’s not the chai I reach for every day, but a definite ‘reorder me’ tea even so.
