55 Tasting Notes
Woweeeeee! I first tried this tea … two years ago? Three years? I don’t even remember. Much like I really didn’t remember how this tea tasted, just that my impression of it at the time was “No thank you”. I made it to one of the stores over the weekend, and decided what the heck, I’ve been meaning to drink more greens this year, might as well give this another go. It smelled DIVINE in the tin, which helped matters along quickly, and I grabbed 25g. This is toasty, nutty, and subtly sweet. The pineapple isn’t out of place like I feared it would be. Definitely not a tart tea (phew). There’s some light vegetal-grass-green coming out at the back of the sip, but overall, I’m kind of loving this? Is it my cold? Is it making my taste buds change? Or is it just time? Either way, I think I’m going to have to grab more of this! It’s kind of everything I wished Forever Nuts was. Warmly nutty and still tea-like, as opposed to crazy pink, artificial, and weirdly tangy-sour from too much fruit. Shudder.
I tried it as a latte before I left for the week—decided I’d leave all my nut teas home—and oh goodness. So much happiness. I brewed it half in water, half in almond coconut milk, and added in a spoon of honey. Mmmm. And . . . now I’m craving it. Drats.
Mild debate: do I take this OUT of my cupboard, because this cup is my last of CoEG, or do I leave it in, because the likelihood of my re-stocking this the next time I make an order is . . . ridiculously high? Oh, the dilemma of a tea lover-and-logger. GRANTED, I have a sample packet of Sloane’s Heavenly Cream, too, and I’m eager to tear into that. I’m always on the look out for a good, creamy, vanilla-y earl grey (forever in my heart as my [first] Tea Love), and if Sloane’s version proves to be as delightful as its name promises, I might get a tin of that instead of this? Again, dilemma!
Anyway, I’ve been unsuccessful in my fight with the sore throat, and I woke up today feeling like I swallowed a cheese grater. Argh. Milk and honey it is, then.
I was running out of tea mid-week, and this was the result of an emergency re-stocking run. My usual go-to for grocery store blacks = Yorkshire, but I already had an 80 count box at home, and I didn’t really want to shell out the money for a duplicate. So I grabbed this, instead. And well, this is probably the best kick in the pants I have ever gotten from a tea. It’s loud, it’s feisty, and it’s kind of crude. Think of feeling drowsy in a bar and having some hooligan suddenly start shrieking beside you. That’s basically the embodiment of this tea. It’s not a gentle wake up call, it’s not going to give you a smooth transition into your morning. This tea is unapologetic and vicious.
I appreciate how strong it is, because let’s face it, Toronto pre-6am? Ughhhh. No thank you. But at the same time, this tea is ridiculously bitter, and it leaves a rather unpleasant aftertaste in my mouth. A woody sensation? Eek. This is definitely at its best with a generous pour of milk, and maybe even a drop of sugar.
The last time DT had their points redemption period, I picked up 50g of this, because a. there can never be enough matcha, and FREE matcha? Sold! and b. I’ve never tried any of the matcha offered by DT, so why not give it a go, risk free?
Weeeeeeeeeeeeell. This is pretty good? I’ve been drinking Domatcha for a while, and I find that to be a lot smoother; GCM still has teeny, tiny clumps after whisking. Granted, this could just be on my part: I don’t have any actual equipment, but my hand held milk frother has served me well the past . . . 4 years? (Knock on wood!) Anyways. This is grassy, sweetly-bitter, and makes the inside of my mouth pucker pleasantly. I’m drinking it with soy milk and a squirt of honey as a mid-morning pick me up, and yeeeeeeeees, just what I’ve been craving. Domatcha might be my go-to, but I certainly wouldn’t say no to this!
I’m EXTREMELY picky about flowery teas. Most of the times, I can’t get over the overwhelming potpourri smell/taste. Thankfully, this is the perfect amount of floral for me—just enough of a rose flavour to make it stand apart from the black line up in my cupboard, but subtle enough that I don’t imagine drinking old lady bath water. I’m loving that this is an Assam base, too, because it adds such a rounded, malty note. A nice, simple afternoon tea for when I’m craving something slightly different. Mmm. Plus, omg Sloane tins. Is it bad I want the tins just as much as I want the teas inside them? They’re ridiculous. So beautiful!
I packed my work things over the weekend, and this tea was one I debated on, and then threw in for the heck of it. I only had about 25g of it left, and I was getting antsy: should this be an EVERYDAY tea, considering how much I love it? But then I remembered that weekdays are High Stress and I’m always in need of something soft and comforting when I get home. So. Hello, Santa’s Secret. May you and I be BFFS for the remainder of our time together.
Woke up this morning feeling wretched. Head and neck all messed up, throat throwing a fit, and nose so red it was comical. I brewed this in half water, half almond milk, and added a drop of honey. Smooth. Soothing. Sweet. Easy on the throat. Yesyesyes. Ended up calling in sick, but the timolino kept this warm for me as I rolled back into bed.
Chose this for my morning tea today. It brewed while I cooked my oats and reacquainted myself with my kitchen and my pantry, and oh, yum. Malty and smooth! I love Assam, and here, it works perfectly with the vanilla—so creamy, caramelly, darkly sweet. The ginger isn’t harsh or overly aggressive, but it’s not shy, either. It adds the perfect amount of spice and warmth to the cup. I’m really enjoying this tea, and for a blind buy? I’m totally patting myself on the back. Perfect for cold, wintry mornings when you’re being attacked by germs as I am.
My mother and I sometimes differ in our tea tastes, but on this we are united: Red Rose just isn’t for us. There’s a one in five chance that every time we pass through the tea aisle, mom will make a comment about Red Rose, and how much she dislikes it (growing up, my house was always stocked with either jasmine tea, or Tetley). I never offered an opinion, because I couldn’t really ever remember drinking it, and it at least deserved a fair shot, I thought.
Well, I already drank up all the tea I brought along with me this week, and work is ready stocked with a mountain of Lipton and Red Rose, so into my Timolino it went. And . . . it was watery, weak, and thin, and the aftertaste was unpleasantly . . . dirty. It could have been a number of factors—the timolino could have had a tea-buildup, the water could have been tepid, etc. So I brewed up some Lipton English Breakfast to see if it was all the outside factors instead of the tea itself, and no. LEB was meh for a black / decent for tea dust. But it was drinkable. I’m sorry, Red Rose. But we go our separate ways here.