351 Tasting Notes
This’ the last of this! Due to the fact that I think it makes an excellent breakfast tea, chances are I will probably purchase it a third time. I practically have a tin specifically for it.
But I may also branch out and (gasp) use the tin for a different tea. My number of empty tins now equals the number of teas I have still in the bags they came in (the roll-down close ones; can’t be good for them, I don’t see them preventing much air exposure); two from Tealicious, two from Granville, one from Teaopia, one from Murchie’s, one from Great Wall.
Although some of the empty tins are A&D’s. And I just don’t have the heart to peal off the stickers from those yet. If they came off more easily, I would, but they’re stuck on there pretty good. They’d just tear.
It’s finally here!
And dear heaven it smells delicious. And I feel bad because my cat so desperately wants my attention, but… tea! The scent is coconut with a tang not unlike cheesecake, and I’m willing it to cool down faster so I don’t burn my tongue trying to enjoy it.
The coconut is authentic and tasty, and I’ll admit right now I’ve never had honeybush before—but there is a sweet honey rooibos-like taste under the coconut which I assume is from it.
There is definitely a tang in the taste which I assume is the cheesecake, made sweet by a very honey-like flavour (the honeybush? If so, I didn’t the “honey” in the name to be that noticeable!). This cup is delicious and I’m loving it. I need more caffeine-free teas to sip in the evening.
Also with photos. Well, one.
The wait was worth it.
This’ the last of this. I could taste that it is definitely starting to go (had this a whole year!), but I will miss it dearly anyways. This was by far my favourite earl grey, and if I ever come across it again, I will snatch it up in a heartbeat.
The tin if very pretty, and the name-label is just a sticker, so I can easily just peal that off and put a white label over the logo, and use this for any tea. Hmmm. Reduce Reuse Recycle.
Got a sample of this, and made it in my tea libre at school. Wiry little leaves, mixed with blue cornflowers and yellow sunflowers.
Taste was very mild, but distinctly buttecream icing. Light ceylon tea base. When they got it in for St. Patrick’s Day, we all sat around sniff-comparing it to the Cream Irish Breakfast, which is a mix of CTC and orthodox, plus assam and ceylon with the heavier and bolder cream. I liken that to a breakfast sweetness, and this a desert sweetness, although I like the Cream Irish Breakfast more.
No more. This is it. I will savour this cup. Will I ever find a smoky tea I enjoy half as much? I find others too sharp, and tippy gold in Caravan and Lapsang seems rare.
I’ll persevere, though. It will be a delicious quest. There was a lapsang I saw—I can’t recall which company right now, but I think I will start there.
Well, it SMELLS delicious. I thought it was a little on the pricey side, though, to be honest. For a flavoured oolong? Still, I made the trip. I decided on this one when I discovered that there was a hidden Teaopia (not even on Google Maps, let along here) near(ish) to me. Jillian’s well-timed tasting note on this tea helped with the decision.
Dry it’s very creamy sweet smelling, brewed there is definitely more of a nutty profile in there (more in the wet leaves than the brewed tea, however). It’s sweet and creamy, and definitely nutty. The nutty, I think, blends well with the natural flavours of the oolong used (looking at the large, darkly colourful leaves, I wonder if it’s bai hao). The nut flavour, I think, is the culprit behind the light astringency on the tip of my tongue, because the tea is rather smooth otherwise. I think the nut is what sets this tea apart, because without it it’s just a cream oolong of some sort (not that that’s terribly ordinary anyways, but who would think to pair nuts and oolong? I like it).
Teaopia recommends three minutes, but that had seemed a little much; I started with two, but when I poked my nose into the pot, I saw that there hadn’t been any convection at all, just a small cloud of brown surrounding the teaball; I spent an extra (timed) thirty seconds of dunking to mix the tea and let it steep a little darker. The oolong leaves themselves look dark and oxidized enough that I assume it wasn’t meant to be a light brew.
First cup’s cooled more, and I’m picking up fruity hints. This is mellow and very nice.
This is a satisfying tea, and I’m delightfully surprised with Teaopia (not that I was expecting bad things). Also, they have (only in-store, not on their site) Turkish teacups! Except they sell them individually. And the saucer comes separate. Five bucks for a single glass teacup, three dollars for the saucer. Jesus Christ.
Again, second steep is darker than the initial rinse steep. It’s definitely earthy; I’d say even muddy, but not dirt, rather soil. Is that an odd differentiation to make?
I somewhat forgot about the tea for quite a while, and the strong smell of the dry leaf’s faded quite a bit, as has the fishy aspect of the brewed tea itself, I think. At least I remember it all being a little different, but it’s been a while. I suppose it’s the tin I kept it in, and in most tea-storage practices this all would be a bad thing, but I think it really helped. I like it more than I remember liking it, although I never truly disliked it. At least if I take small to medium sized sips. I gulped some and it coats the mouth and throat most unpleasantly.
Finally finished this one off today in a little cast-iron teapot from my sister (she got it way back when she was in highschool, but soon lost interesting tea; she recently gave it to me). It gave everything a slightly off taste, and hot metal has a peculiar smell.
Ahwell. But this’ the last of THIS tea.
I’ve made this a few times since my first post, although I headed a bit of advice from the other notes on this tea and now steep it just under two minutes.
I picked this up originally hopping to find something akin to Tealicious’ 1001 Nights (not that there’s anything stopping me from picking up more of that—I just wanted to branch out a little). The jasmine in that blend is a pleasant background note, unlike in this one. It’s not bad, but it’s certainly quite a bit more powerful, which for a person like me (who is not the greatest fan of flowery flavourings and scentings) is a bit much.
Two minutes, though—it really brings it down, and allows much more room for the vanilla to come through. And it’s a pleasantly strong vanilla. I still don’t get much from the teas themselves—some green bitterness for brewing this with boiling water, but that’s it. That bitterness is mixed with the sort of… sharpness? You usually get from the bergamot (sharpness isn’t the right word… I suppose bitterness; think the similarities bergamot has with grapefruit), but the fruit isn’t present enough to make you think (or even vaguely remember) earl grey. No earl grey thoughts at all from this tea.
The bitterness does get a bit stronger as it cools, which mixes unpleasantly with the sharp jasmine. Perhaps a cooler steeping temperature next time, although I’m sure that will take away from the additives. It’s odd that it can be bitter and sharp but so creamy and sweet at the same time. The vanilla in this really is delicious.