474 Tasting Notes
I’m pretty interested in this one. Rosehips are something I’ve always liked, but haven’t experienced much as a tea ingredient. It seems like being paired with hibiscus wouldn’t be a bad idea. They’re both tart and fruity, after all. But I’m already wishing for a black tea base.
The dry bag smells like hibiscus and cherries. Maybe a bit like a sour apple, too. As it brews, the water changes to a bright red-orange. I tend to use a white or clear mug when I’m brewing a new tea so I can see it properly. Am I the only one that does that?
The tea’s scent as I sip reminds me of apples and oranges at the same time. It’s quite sour without sweetener, and even with a little, it remains that way. It’s also very fruity, and the hibiscus is for once not smothering the other ingredients. The rosehips remind me so much of dried apple slices. Or unspiced apple chips. Honestly, though, it’s not the boldest experience… it makes me want to see how other companies are doing this combination, or something similar.
This is your standard herbal mint tea. Composed of only dried peppermint, it leaves my mouth cool and refreshed, even though I’m drinking it hot. Sure, it’s not the best mint tea I’ve ever had, but it gets the job done. It’s a simple, no-nonsense, no frills drink.
The taste isn’t overwhelmingly minty, and it has a sort of savory/creamy, kinda buttery aftertaste that’s difficult to describe. It sort of reminds me of those after dinner mints. The softer ones that melt quickly in your mouth. While this is soothing, it leaves me wanting something a little stronger. Maybe I should have given it another minute to steep. I’m not sure.
Alright, carrying on with chamomile. But I get the feeling from this tea’s official description that it might not be a shining example. “An excellent quality product”, you say? Hmmm.
Well, it smells like honey to me. Honey and dried grass. The first sip makes me suddenly realize what I have been tasting in herbal “bedtime” teas all these years. So that’s what chamomile tastes like by itself. It’s actually pretty pleasant! It has an vanilla-like quality to it, especially in the aftertaste. In fact, I’d like to taste this in a vanilla blend. I bet some tea company is making that. Must investigate.
I’ve decided I need to give chamomile a chance. I never really had it growing up, so I’ve never had a taste for it. But if it’s something that’s tried and true to de-stress, I’ll give it a try.
As I hit the sachet with hot water, it expands into a little floating pillow full of pale dried flowers and what looks like lemongrass. I think I can see some fruit peelings in there, too. The citrus scent is very powerful and sour, and makes me think of grapefruit and oranges. It’s so strong that I’m giving it a minute less than the instructions say.
The taste is more on the lemony side, with a vaguely minty herbal flavor mixed in. It’s not as harsh with citrus as the aroma had lead me to believe. There’s something about it that tastes very clean, and I like that. Honestly, however, I’m not sure what good chamomile is supposed to taste like, so I can’t make any judgements there. I’ll try a plain chamomile next…
This one surprised me! As far as bagged black teas go, this is a good standby. It’s bold and strong, bracing you for the day ahead. There aren’t any odd aftertastes that you sometimes get with black teas in bags. Also, it comes in one of those pretty mesh and thread sachets that I like.
I’d get into it further, but if you’ve ever had an English breakfast tea, you know what this is. This one isn’t particularly astringent and has a hint of fruit in it. It’s decent.
Another random tidbit to carry on my theme of things I only have one cup of!
This smelled delicious as soon as I opened the little packet. It’s fruity, sweet, and herbal all at the same time. The tisane itself is gorgeous to look at. Colorful dried berries, pink rosehips and hibiscus, purple-blue cornflower petals, and pale green sage all mixed together. But of course, I’m a little wary about the hibiscus. That stuff tends to shout over everything else.
It brews up to a pretty, dark magenta. Tart fruit is most present in the aroma, as well as something kinda lime-ish, but you can really smell the sage, too. I love the scent of sage. The flavor is mostly blueberry, and milder than what I had expected from the smell. Then, of course, along comes the hibiscus to smother the other ingredients. The sage is present, thankfully, but not as strong as I had hoped. There’s also this odd flavor that I can’t place. It’s sort of like citrus. I know it’s not the rosehips. Anyway, I’m not liking this too much, though it seemed promising in the beginning.
I realized I was the only tea geek among my coworkers when the Republic Of Tea shipment came in yesterday and I was the only one excited. The restaurant is carrying three new tea flavors and this was one of them. We already have the black tea version, which I’m not really a fan of, but I’m going to review them all anyway. (Blackberry Sage is among the new ones, too, which I’m thrilled about! It’s an old favorite.)
As far as the aroma goes, it smells almost the same as the black Ginger Peach. Like artificial peach candy. I wouldn’t expect that to be different, though. The flavor is pretty much what I imagined it would be. Heavy on the fakey peach, super light on the actual tea. No ginger to speak of whatsoever. This tastes really similar to a peach green tea that Lipton makes. Like the bottled stuff you’d get at a gas station. I mean, it’s not awful, but it’s not what I look for in a cup.
I believe this came from QueenOfTarts a good while ago. This has basically been a day of brewing all my single bagged oddities.
The packet says to only brew for a minute or two, so I went with two. After two minutes, it’s a little darker than a typical green tea would be. I wonder if that has something to do with the herbal/spice content. It smells like good old Constant Comment, which makes me smile.
The first thing I notice when I taste it is how much lighter it seems than the regular black version. Without the black tea’s strength to overpower the spices, they really come to the forefront. It almost has a little bit of a pleasant heat to it. Same with the orange peel. This tastes much more like oranges than the classic version. I can’t say much for the green tea aspect of it, though. It’s pretty mild and muted. I’m enjoying this much more than I expected!
First of all, I want to mention how pretty the sachet is! It’s round, super-fine mesh with white thread stitching all the way around, hemmed by a sewing machine the way you’d sew the bottom of a shirt. Also, there is a very generous amount of dried herbs in it. Maybe around three teaspoons.
The aroma is lovely and clean as it steeps. Minty with a bit of lemon. It’s oddly soothing just from the smell, which is dominated by spearmint. Originally, I planned to steep it for four minutes, but the tea grew dark quicker than I expected, so I stopped it at three. This turned out to be a good decision.
The flavor leaves my mouth tingling and cool. Again, spearmint is the main thing I taste, but the peppermint gives it depth and an almost savory aftertaste. The lemon balm is in the finish, adding a note of freshness that reminds me of my mom’s garden when I was a child. It makes me want to grow all three of these in my balcony garden this spring… maybe I will!
I got this in a trade from someone, but it’s been so long, I’ve forgotten who it was. But this seemed like just the thing for a wet, windy day here in Atlanta. Not that it’s cold, but you know.
It smells of cinnamon and mint the most. I admit, I’m a little apprehensive. The scent reminds me of a Yogi tea, which I’m not a fan of at all. Also, it’s a tisane, which sometimes disappoint me. (I like the tea base to be bold!) The flavor is very heavy on the cinnamon. It reminds me of those cinnamon peppermints they sell around Christmas. The ones with the red centers. Mint is the second-strongest taste, followed by a hint of clove. I can’t really taste the vanilla at all, which is something I was looking forward to. And the orange peel is non-existent. All around, this isn’t something I’d drink again.