6 Tasting Notes
Breaking into my sample of this, this afternoon. It’s gloomy and wet outside, and I’m fighting what is apparently my now-traditional late-summer head cold. Hurrah! To celebrate such a wonderful confirmation, I give myself this tea. I’m not usually one for the vegetal, grassy taste of green teas, but every now and then, something this bright and light finds its way to my cupboard, and I can’t help but like it.
Opening the bag, I’m hit with the memory of rice crackers. Specifically, the seasoned sesame-and-seaweed kinds we get at the Asian grocery stores. I grew up snacking on those, and here, the leaf is like finding those crackers in liquid form. Brewed up, it tastes most like creamy green beans, but the rice cracker taste holds strong at the finish. I imagine this would make an excellent iced tea?
Where to start? I’ve been feeling kind of blue for the past couple days, so I thought I’d treat myself to something decadent, just because. Brewed up a pot of this . . . and here we go!
I’m so pleased, as always, to find that this tea brews up and tastes just like the dry leaf promises. A delicious mouthful of honey, raw sweet potato, and mushrooms. I can’t get over how thick and creamy it is, while being so “drinkable”. It feels like a cozy autumn evening, curled up in an armchair. Does that make sense? I would snuggle this tea if I could.
On the later sips, there’s this wonderful new layer of flavour that comes out—like the aftertaste of a bite of a really flaky, buttery croissant. Similar to puff pastry, but richer. There’s an unexpected savoury bite to this tea, for all it’s so sweet on the tongue, and it’s making me grin kind of crazily into my cup. Imagine Violet Beauregarde tasting Wonka gum. So many flavours and meals, all in one ;)
This might not be my favourite from Verdant, but I’m so glad to have it in my cupboard!
Finally finished off the last of my bag (which was … overstuffed, for better or for worse). The only other incarnation of Monk’s Blend that I’d tried was waaaaaay back in the good old days of Teaopia. I remember getting a whiff and falling hard and fast, so I bought this one blindly, while running off of nostalgia. And to be fair, my tastes might have changed since the Stone Age, and Monk’s Blend might just not be for 2014-me. I found the scent to be on the verge of sickly-sweet, and beyond that, I thought the base tea was terribly bitter and cloying. I also found, on one occasion, two scraps of paper in the dry leaf?! (They were small and zig zagged, like the top part of a “Tear Here!” bag.) That . . . kind of made my face not know what to do with itself. So. To reiterate. I’m glad this blend is gone from my tea collection, and I don’t think I’ll be getting anymore in the future.
(Note: Actually, I’m starting to realize I don’t enjoy fruity black teas as much I used to/imagined. More and more, I’m turning to maltier, breadier blacks, which is nice to know for future buys.)
Mmm. Liquid vanilla yogurt. A few people I’ve shared this with have found that rather off-putting, but I’ve always enjoyed how fragrant this tea is. This is lovely lovely lovely during those times I want something more bodied than, say, a genmaicha, but something still smooth and comforting and shying away from briskness. Finished off the last of my 50g this afternoon, and as I’m trying to finish off a couple others, I don’t think I’ll be restocking this one for a while, yet.
I just. No. Nope. Not happening. At least, not for me? Short steeps, long steeps, different temperatures in water … nothing works. It has a kind of odd play-doh / scratch-n-sniff sticker smell, and on a good day I can get a tiny bit of creamy, vegetal note on the back of my tongue, which, hey, oolong, nice of you to join us, but for the most part, this tea tastes like nothing. I tried, but it’s just not gonna work out between us.
Hands down, one of my favourite herbals ever. It feels like I’ve been waiting for this tea to come back in stock for forever, and now that it has, well. Excuse me, out of my way, I need to hoard.
Dry, there’s this beautifully creamy, vegetal, vanilla-y smell. And brewed? There’s still all of that cream and vanilla, but there’s also a swampy, green kind of taste that reminds me, without fail, of the pennywort juice I used to drink while growing up. Come be in my cupboard, Mulberry Magic. Let us never be parted again.