367 Tasting Notes
Ooookay! Steeped this one to taste, which was somewhere between thirty seconds and forty-five. I knew any longer than that and I wouldn’t be able to stand it. I used the still-hot water from the rooibos, and it was at a drinkable temperature already, so it probably wasn’t very hot at all.
First thing first, I reeeeeally haaaate mint. Mint gum, ew. After-dinner mints make my skin crawl. I don’t like the artificial cold feeling. Bleeeech. I’ve only ever liked spearmint, in that pink gum. Which probably isn’t actually what spearmint TASTES like.
This is okay at thirty-seconds in warm, almost-hot water. It smells STRONGLY of peppermint (I know, I’ve had that stuff growing in my garden for years). I think I can make out the tarragon. Liquorishy. Which actually doesn’t go too bad. Faint.
Makes my breath feel cool and minty like mouthwash, but not TOO bad. I doubt I’d be able to drink this if it were any stronger. At any rate, since I dislike mint so strongly (although this tea’s okay—brisk), I don’t think it proper that I give this a rating. I’m too strongly biased.
I needed something hot to sip on to keep me up while I worked on a geomorphology program, but not tea because I didn’t want to be AWAKE the whole night after I finished. I pulled this out of my mother’s freezer and made a cup. The bag smelt… woody with a faint berry. The tea itself smelt MUCH more like some form of berry.
It’s got a very silky mouth-feel (hey look! I use that word now too!). It’s got a berry…ness, but I wouldn’t really call it a taste. A tangyness at the back of my throat as well—unrelated, though. And then a mild woody (but not barky; somehow, there is a difference) rooibos taste. It’s okay. Didn’t wow me or anything, but I’ll probably drink it again sometime, come another late-night college project.
can’t remember the temperature… just under boiling I guess, and steeped around fourish minutes by the time I started sipping it, but left the bag in as I sipped a while longer before removing it.
Yiiiick, I just made the mistake of throwing two teabags of this into a too-small pot. I thought it was big enough for two, but apparently I was wrong. The tea got bitter FAST (four minutes!?), and it was STRONG. Very bitter and too strong, and yuck—even with milk and honey, there was nothing I could do. Never again shall I use more than one teabag. Not unless the pot exceeds four cups capacity at LEAST.
I was afraid I was going to brew this tea and my poor palette would be unable to tell it from Caravan. They certainly smell quite similar. But lapsang smells VERY different once brewed. You can definitely tell that it was smoked over pine. The pine is there. Mmm, campfire. Mostly because pine’s often what we end up throwing on it. I can’t stop sniffing it. It’s very nice.
The taste is definitely weaker than caravan. But I can’t remember—maybe I steeped that one longer. Taste’s quite different. Sweeter. The pine, maybe. Still savoury. When I purchased this, the lady gave me an odd look and asked if I had ever had it before. I suppose I should have seen it coming—people either love or hate this tea. I explained that I had been meaning to try it (she let me sniff it, and it smelt as expected). Mm, I like it. I think I like Russian Caravan more, but maybe I should have just steeped this one longer. It’s got a… deeper flavour though, I think. Tasty.
I wasn’t sure how to steep this. It’s my first green-black blend (and you can most certainly SMELL it—the green and the black tea, I mean). So I went 180 degrees, at around three (ish?) minutes, just to be safe. The colour came out quite light for a black tea (as expected, I guess).
Here goes! I was kind of nervous about this one. I’ve never purchased a tea I had ABSOLUTELY no idea about. But I am a risk taker! And where better to try a tea I’d been meaning to try, than with a company I had ALSO been meaning to try!
It tastes like black tea and green tea, but I can’t really taste any of the fruity spiceness that was also mixed in there. Although I can smell it in the dry leaves, wet leaves and (to a lesser extent) in the tea. Oh, wait—I can taste the jasmine, mildly I believe. It was a good idea that I tried jasmine green tea before hand, so I can actually pick that taste out. I would steep this for longer to see what I get, but the green is JUST strong enough for me.
I get a sweetness when I sip and then breathe out. No marshmallows, but it sort of REMINDS me of marshmallows. In a weird way. I’m sure it’s just my underdeveloped palette that’s keeping me from tasting things, but somehow… this is very nice. Maybe it’s the rose that I’m tasting a bit when I breathe out. That sweetness. Ah yes, it’s a bit stronger now. Definitely there. Mm, it’s quite nice. I’m starting to become rather fond of this tea. I think I’ll try a second steep and bring that to work with me.
I think I like this one! I’ll probably keep drinking it to see what I can get out of it. It smells so pleasant and sweet, and the taste is there, I’m just not the best person to give a very accurate description of it.
I decided to try steeping this for two minutes first (I mean, I can always just put the teaball back IN), because I remember a few steepsters saying that assam teas can be very picky, and will turn bitter much faster than others. It was in for two, maybe two and a half minutes, and it already is fairly strong, surprisingly. A bit astringent, but not right out bitter. There’s a somewhat tangy, berry taste at the very back of the mouth when I sip it and let it sit for a moment.
I’m sure this could hold milk very well. I think I found my new morning tea! Except that I only got an ounce of this (just to try), so I’ll have to go back for more.
I can still taste it. Aftertaste. Very nice. Yeah, this really doesn’t need any more than two minutes.