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On Monday, I made a cup of this but I came down with a headache and a fever and I felt like I wanted to vomit, so instead of activating plan A [studying and drinking tea], I activated plan B [sleep until my next class]. Consequently, this cup went cold.

Today, I decided it deserved a take two, so I made a cup of it.

It says “blend,” so I can only assume that there are multiple types of tea in this. I tasted what I thought might be some Ceylon, and than I got some nearing intense bitterness that made me think Darjeeling. The bitterness wasn’t as strong as a previous encounter with the Autumnal Darjeeling Auggy sent me, but it was familiar enough that it made me “hurm.”

I became even more suspicious when that bitterness began to sweeten in the aftertaste, and then as it cooled a bit more became even more indicative of that muscat taste.

Upon reading the description of this tea, I’m somewhat confused because I didn’t get any Keemun out of it. I didn’t really spend a lot of time smelling the leaves or the tea. I don’t know why, as I seem to be very much all about that lately. Anyway, I’ve got enough left of this to play around a bit, so I’ll be doing that.

Sorry this log is lacking in complete thoughts and cohesiveness. All I wrote down from my drink earlier today was:

DARJEELING.
ceylon?

And combined with the fact that Craig Ferguson is talking at the screen with an alligator puppet in a Cajun-Scottish accent, it’s making this difficult.

Okay, I’m done.

This tea is interesting.

And I don’t mean interesting as in that thing you say when you don’t know what to say. I mean interesting as in it is full and varied and complex and it made my brain go to several different places all at once. I knew I wasn’t going to be logging this when I drank it, so I was typing down some words when I did, and every single time that I did something – smelled it, sipped it, swished it, whatever, I found something different.

I was flooded with flavors and smells and texture and memories and wow. This tea was bombarding me with so many things that I could barely keep up. And at the same time I was trying to think, and to place things I wasn’t recognizing instantaneously. It was overwhelming, yet invigorating.

So I’m going to try and piece this together, but forgive me if it comes out a little disjointed, because to me this is like launching someone up into the middle of the sky during the fireworks, bringing them back down, and then asking, “So, what was it like?”

First, this tea is strong. For what it’s worth, I put about a teaspoon and a half in ten ounces of water. This was also my very first experience with it, so I’ll probably try a shorter steep time just to see if that has any effect, though this level of flavor met me well.

There were only two components of this tea that did not strongly remind me of summer – the cinnamon and the tail of the sip that made me think of unsweetened cranberry juice. [Yes, this tea contains hibiscus. And yes, it is bold at the finish. If you can’t handle it I don’t recommend this tea, but you should be aware that this tea holds so much more than hibiscus.] As for the rest of it…

The dry leaf reminds me of peaches or apricots – ripe and juicy and slurpy – and they’re accompanied by cinnamon. Wet, the leaf takes on a bunch of different tones. Sometimes it smelled to me like fruit punch. Then it was potpourri [but not in a bad way]. Then [and it took me a bit of thought to place this] it smelled distinctly like popsicles. You know, the fruit flavored ones that come in the white paper packaging. It had that muted fruitiness, accompanied by that dryness from the ice.

And then, perhaps strangely, I smelled chlorine. I swam competitively for a pretty long time, so chlorine, though really relatively the same from pool to pool, has different connotations to me; different smells. This was summer chlorine; the smell that rises off the soaked concrete of the pool deck as the sun beats down relentlessly. We would slink out of the water, exhausted after a particularly difficult practice and lie, half-heartedly stretching to try and quell the lactic acid that would shortly turn us into human noodles. That strange, unexpected yet familiar chlorine smell was also present in the liquid, but it came and went, dodging between the scent of peach pie sprinkled with cinnamon.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to get from this exactly, so I tentatively took a quick sip. I didn’t let it sit in my mouth for very long, and just swallowed it and I quickly realized this was not going to be enough time to get anything out of it except the resulting tartness. On the next sip, I held it in my mouth and let it roam around a bit. The hibiscus taste was there, but along with it was apple – not particularly sweet, but tart apple, and something else that I couldn’t place. I gulped that sip down [the cranberry taste, as I discovered, was more apparent to me if i swallowed quickly, the hibiscus aspect clearer if I let it make it’s way down more slowly] and took another sip in.

This time, I held the tea at the front of my mouth, just tasting it with the tip of my tongue. Here, I could definitely taste the cinnamon. That was very apparent. But there was something else swirling around with it that I couldn’t quite figure out until it side-swiped my brain.

PLUM.

It was so clearly plum. I don’t know how to break it down anymore than that, I can just say that once I recognized it I nearly face-palmed.

The rest of my cup was spent holding the tea at the tip of my tongue and then pounding it down when I was ready to swallow. I seriously enjoyed that plum cinnamon-y taste, and found the cranberry tartness at the finishing strangely refreshing. I was slightly, slightly disappointed that there weren’t really any peach or apricot flavors to be found, though honestly I think that the rest of the tea was so intense I think it would have been completely drowned out.

I’m wondering if a shorter infusion will dial everything down enough to bring out more flavors, or if it will simply make for a softer cup of tea. Anyhow, this made for a really neat experience. I got a bit more complexity out of the aroma than I did the actual taste of the tea, but that plum cinnamon combination was delightful. I’ll also have to try this iced when the weather turns warmer. Anyhow, right now I’m not thinking that this is going to be a re-order for me. It’s almost too loud for me to enjoy as a tea to drink before bed [which is what I’d want it for since it’s decaf], but for the time being I think I’ll really enjoy this tin.

Smoky
Caramel
Honey
Bitter
Thick
Chocolate
Cocoa

These are some components that I have found in unflavored black teas. If you stripped them from all of their respective counterparts, I’m pretty sure that Ceylon is what you’d be left with. It tastes like black tea without the cool stuff.

And yet, there’s something really compelling about it. It’s plain, yes, but it’s comfortable. It’s familiar. And it’s smooth, smooth, smooth.

This tea is Doug Funny.

Chik-a-pa chik-a-pa chik-a-pa boo-shwaaaaaah.

Most black tea I’ve tried has this really distinct flavor that I can’t seem to pick apart, so in my head I’ve just labeled it as “black tea flavor.” This tea has that. I took a sip and it was all, “O hai! I’m in ur cup, blackin ur tea.”

It doesn’t have any smokiness, but it doesn’t quite read as “smooth” to me. It’s somewhere in between the two, which would almost be unsettling if it wasn’t sweet. It’s a pleasant kind of sweet; I enjoy it. And it helps with the bitterness that greets you at the tail of the sip.

About halfway through the cup I started to notice that it was drying my mouth out a bit. Not a ton, but enough to be noticeable. Also, the cocoa started to really come through, especially when combined with that bitter taste at the end. It was much more noticeable when I was inhaling, and if I kept my mouth closed and breathed in through my nose I could taste it a bit, too.

The last little bit of what I had in my cup got rather cool, which confirmed my suspicion that this tea runs best for me when it’s between hot and lukewarm. Overall, a pleasant tea that doesn’t really stand out all that much. Might be good for a lazy afternoon spent perusing the newspaper.

It’s taken me forever plus three days to get around to logging these suckers. I’d sat down to do it one day and then realized that it’d been too long since I actually drank them and wanted to wait until I tried them again before logging them.

Now that that incredibly boring explanation is out of the way, on to the tea.

This Dragonwell rates a solid second on my Dragonwell scale. It’s not a light, dancing, happy sweetness like that darned Dragonwell Spring that Carolyn sent me. It does, however, have some sweetness to it.

The first thing that struck me is that this tea brewed up into a very light yellow color. I don’t know why I made a note of this, but it was very, very light. I’ve had a lot of teas that have been brewing up near colorless lately, but it’s still novel enough for me t notice it when it happens.

Also, the leaves, and this is gonna sound kinda crazy, smelled like turkey when I sniffed them from up above. It took me a while to place it, but when I realized it I said aloud, “Holy poop, turkey!” [Except “poop” was replaced with its four-lettered cousin.] Curious, I sniffed them again closer, through the infuser, and they smelled like green beans – specifically the canned variety.

It had been long enough since I’d tried this that I couldn’t remember exactly what to expect from this [secretly, I’m using these tea logs to replace my BRAIN]. The biggest taste that I got from it was, perhaps not surprisingly, green beans. Fresher green beans than what it smelled like, but green beans. A little salty, more sweet, though. And maybe with just a hint of smoke.

I’m going to try bringing the temperature down to 160 and see what that does for it. I’ll be able to compare better now that I have it in my brain.

Ever since I read this: http://bit.ly/6kBYYq, I have been obsessed with trying this tea. So, when I decided it was time to put another order through with Rishi, Ancient Yellow Buds was the first tea on my list.

Not gonna lie, it’s pretty amazing.

First things first, this tea brews clear [or very nearly so]. It doesn’t look like you’ve done anything. I was thrown by this a bit, but now you know, and knowing is half the battle. [Cue shooting star rainbow swipe thingy.]

I’m going to have to agree with LENA, in that I primarily get honeysuckle out of this. Lovely, concentrated, honey combined with that almost strained sweetness from cholorphyll and a nectar-like thickness honeysuckle. It also did this crazy wonderful thing for me where, once I had swallowed the tea, I could feel the lingering honeysuckle taste actually dissolving on my tongue. Physically felt it. Like cotton candy, that kind of sensation, except not sickly sweet. Or angel food cake. It was awesome.

But the thing that kicks this tea from “love it” to “I am going to throw down some serious hyperbole and expletives until you try this” is the fact that lightly, in the aftertaste, towards the back of my tongue, I get the taste of freshly baked white bread, sweet and yeasty. This is not obvious. I like to wait in between sips of my tea, and that’s probably why I noticed it.

I did three steeps of this at varying times [gauge reflects the first one, Rishi recommends 3 minutes and then 4-5 on second and third steeps, which is what I did]. I don’t really see any need to deviate from these times, but I might since I definitely have enough to experiment a bit. Speaking of which, I bought 4 ounces of it, which I’m very glad of now because I expect that I’ll be drinking a lot of it. Anyhow, if any of this sounds even remotely appealing to you I’d suggest that you get it.

Auggy was kind enough to send me a little of this. This is the first gyokuro I’ve made myself and I wanted to do it up right so I got a kyusu. The tea arrived here before the kyusu did, so there was a bit of an internal battle going on until I got my Rishi stuff. I was literally, at one point, standing and staring at this tea until I caught myself and shook myself out of it.

Anyhow, I was good and I waited. I’m not sure what difference making this in the kyusu made, but I liked rocking and swishing the stuff out.

I read/heard/saw somewhere that gyokuros are supposed to sit for 5 or so minutes in cold/room temperature water to open them up and keep them from before steeping them warm. That’s something that’s stuck with me for some reason, but I’m also not sure how specific that is to the type of gyokuro, and whatnot. I’ve also read many different things about water to leaf ratios and the temperature of water that’s “supposed” to be used for hot/warm infusions. I’ve heard that you’re not supposed to use water hotter than 160°F and that you should infuse in ice water. What all of this has led me to believe is that I just need to drink a lot more gyokuro and see what slams my door.

Anyway, I let this sit in some room temperature for five minutes. [I did try to drink that but it was relatively flavorless.] Then I did about four steeps at 1 minute in 140°F water, all of which tasted relatively the same. I probably could have kept going, to be honest, and I make a face as I type this – I think I might have wasted the leaves as a result. I also see that Auggy has varied her steeping times for different infusions [which is what you’re probably supposed to do]. Luckily, I have some left of this to play around with, so I’ll have to try steeping otherwise. I think I’m going to try and read some more about these before I do, because right now I’m very much saturated with conflicting information and I think some of it’s going to begin dripping out if I don’t try and filter and sort some of it.

All right, enough about my brain scream over “proper” gyokuro steeping. The tea. The tea was good! I really doubt that this truly shows the range of where this can go, but I enjoyed what I got out of it and that’s a good thing. What I was missing was that buttery taste that both the description and Auggy both mentioned. I was searching for it, and I think that maybe because I was I thought I caught a glimpse of it, but that could have been purely psychological. What I did get was a vegetal taste followed by a delicious, chlorophyll-y sweetness. The sweetness was bright and high and clear, and only grew in volume when accompanied by inhalation. It also, and I’m really not sure how to describe this accurately, it tingled. It hopped around on my tongue.

This experience has intrigued me enough to really become interested in gyokuro, so I think I’ll be trying to procure some more and do a little experimenting.

Also, should you be interested, pictures of the new kyusu begin here [they are, however, without tea]. http://bit.ly/5oRgh0

Auggy already commented on how to drive Jackee Muntz into Caramel City, so I’m going to take this opportunity to get a little goofy on y’all. [Like I really need an excuse.] I can’t take credit for this idea. While I’m sure it’s been done elsewhere, I’m sapping inspiration from both an episode of Hey Ash Whatcha Playin’ and a rather brilliant Yelp review a friend of mine wrote. If any of you have never stumbled across text-based games, you might not get this. So here’s something ridiculous that may or may not help: http://bit.ly/DgJqE [Homestar Runner, Dungeonman 3].

Me: Jackee, what the hell? Why don’t you taste like caramel anymore?

Jackee: I do not understand “caramel.”

Me: Cut it out. What I am doing wrong?

Jackee: What’s a “wrong”?

Me: …What?

Jackee: You are holding a glass MUG. Inside of it sit eight ounces of dark copper liquid. Steam rises from the top, swirling into nothingness. Exits are to the NORTH, SOUTH, and WEST.

Me: …
SIP TEA.

Jackee: You take a sip of the TEA and burn your TONGUE. Cursing like a sailor whose ship has chanced upon a Kraken, you bang your HEAD against the COUNTER in frustration at your stupidity. Exits are to the NORTH, SOUTH, and WEST.

Me: HEY!

Jackee: What’s a “HEY”?

Me: Grumble. LET TEA COOL.

Jackee: You sit aimlessly, watching your TEA while you wait for it to drop an appropriate amount in TEMPERATURE. Occasionally, you blow on it, though you are unsure of its effectiveness on the actual cooling process. Exits are to the NORTH, SOUTH, and WEST.

Me: SIP TEA.

Jackee: You take a sip of TEA. The mouthfeel is thin, but not quite watery. The TEA is flavorful – strong, with notes of smoke and pine and a light sweetness. Exits are to the NORTH, SOUTH, and WEST.

Me: POUR TEA OUT.

Jackee: Well, that was wasteful of you. Exits are to the NORTH, SOUTH, and WEST.

Me: It’s not my fault you don’t taste good to me anymore! It’s your fault you don’t taste like caramel!

Jackee: I do not understand that command.

Me: Sigh. READ STEEPSTER.

Jackee: You log into your Steepster account. New reviews have been posted. Please click here: http://steepster.com/aug3zimm/posts/23176. Exits are to the NORTH, SOUTH, and WEST.

Just to walk you through my thought process at this point, now I’m really thinking. When I had Jackee the first few times, I was drinking out of a different mug and I didn’t know that my utiliTEA was messing me up temperature wise. Even when it turned, I don’t want to say bad, but “not as good” on me, I didn’t know about my utiliTEA’s little issue for the majority of my experimentation. I’d get a cup of caramel maybe one time out of five, but the parameters wouldn’t match up so I was starting to think it was all in my head.

By the time I figured out the temperature problem, I barely had any Jackee Muntz left, so I tried a few cups on the stovetop and they rendered much of the same. I also tried it in a travel mug, and the smell thing didn’t seem to fix it either. I did discover that steep time didn’t appear to have too much of an effect, though, so long as I kept it somewhere around 3:30 to 4:30, it was pretty consistent.

Part of me must have still thought I could get it back to caramel. I think that I was partially re-invigorated after the discovery of my utiliTEA temperature issue, so I re-ordered Series 2, but the first cup of the first tin was not successful either. After reading Auggy’s review, something clicked though. A lot of it had to do with the fact that she had actually found the caramel and that gave me hope [and also reassurance that I hadn’t completely lost it]. But also I was looking at the temperature [205°] and thinking about maybe it was the shape of her travel mug. But my mug hadn’t been shaped all that differently from the one I like to use now. Except…it had been a bit larger. So maybe the tea to water ratios were a bit different… No, I DON’T KNOW WHY I DIDN’T THINK ABOUT THAT BEFORE.

Me: CHANGE MUG.

Jackee: Which mug would you like to change to? To see your current mugs, type INV.

Me: INV.

Jackee: BODUM MUG, CAFÉ MUG, BIG TEAL MUG NOT SUITABLE FOR DRINKING TEA, BORING STARBUCKS MUG.

This is the mug I was originally drinking tea out of, by the way – http://bit.ly/4Am3Xb – the bottom top one. Oops.

Me: CAFÉ MUG.

Jackee: You switched your BODUM MUG for your CAFÉ MUG.

Me: MAKE MORE TEA.

Jackee: You turn on your KETTLE and wait for the water to heat, measuring out a heaping teaspoon of TEA before dropping it into your INFUSER. In a few minutes, the WATER is boiling. Exits are to the NORTH, SOUTH, and WEST.

Me: LET WATER COOL 195°F.

Jackee: You wait impatiently while the water cools to the appropriate temperature. You really should learn to be a little more tolerant.

Me: SCREW YOU.

Jackee: I do not understand “SCREW.”

Me: MEASURE WATER 11 OZ.

Jackee: You measure out 11 ounces of WATER into a MEASURING CUP.

Me: POUR WATER.

Jackee: POUR WATER where?

Me: Into the mug, you idiot.

Jackee: I do not understand “idiot.”

Me: POUR WATER INTO MUG.

Jackee: You pour the WATER into your MUG.

Me: STEEP 3:15.

Jackee: Doesn’t that seem a bit short?

Me: Now you’re helpful?

Jackee: I do not understand the question.

Me: STEEP 3:45.

Jackee: You let the TEA steep for 3 MINUTES and 45 SECONDS, watching a couple of stupid VIDEOS in the the meantime before removing the INFUSER.

Me: SIP TEA.

Jackee: You burn your TONGUE and your IQ drops another few points. You take out a FLYSWATTER and slap yourself across the face. Exits are to the NORTH, SOUTH, and WEST.

Me: LET TEA COOL.

Jackee: You sit aimlessly, watching your TEA while you wait for it to drop an appropriate amount in TEMPERATURE. Occasionally, you blow on it, though you are unsure of its effectiveness on the actual cooling process. Exits are to the NORTH, SOUTH, and WEST.

Me: SIP TEA.

Jackee: The TEA feels heavy in your mouth. A soft note of pine hits your TONGUE, but then gently fades away. You are greeted with the taste of burnt sugar.

Me: SIP TEA.

Jackee: The TEA feels heavy in your mouth. A soft note of pine hits your TONGUE, but then gently fades away. You are greeted with the taste of burnt sugar.

Me: SIP TEA.

Jackee: The TEA feels heavy in your mouth. A soft note of pine hits your TONGUE, but then gently fades away. You are greeted with the taste of burnt sugar.

Me: SIP TEA.

Jackee: The taste of burnt sugar slowly melts into the background and a salty note enters the flavors sliding around on your TONGUE. Anxious, you hold the TEA a bit longer in your mouth and are greeted with the overwhelming taste of caramel.

Me: OH SWEET POSEIDON, THANK YOU!!!

Jackee: What is a “Poseidon”?

Me: I hate you.

Jackee: I do not understand that command.

Me: …
INV TEA.

Jackee: A FATAL ERROR HAS OCCURRED. NUMBER OF TEAS HAS EXCEEDED CAPACITY. PROGRAM WILL TERMINATE.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I won Thursday.

Just a few more notes on the tea, because really that’s what all that mess up there was about, I did try steeping this at around 185 and didn’t quite get there in terms of the caramel, so I think that your temperature needs to be at least around 190°F, and could probably go up to 200°F but 205°F might be pushing it. [Auggy mentioned to me that her mug was cold and so it probably temperature dropped when it was in there somewhat significantly from the 205°F.] All this being said, all I can say definitively regarding the temperature is that it should be just below boiling if you hope to achieve this. It’s possible that we’re both just mad.

In regards to the tea:water ratio, I use one of these – http://bit.ly/5SpSvE – and when I measured it against a teaspoon last night it was like…1 1/4 tsp. Give or take a bit. I fill that up that spoon with just a teensy bit over, so somewhere thereabouts. The amount of water I put in the cup is somewhere between 11 and 12 oz, closer to 11.

All of this is assuming you a) have some Jackee Muntz on hand and b) want to try to replicate the caramel taste. I usually don’t get this specific in my logs, I know, but this has been bothering me for quite some time and I’m afraid that you’re seeing the aftermath of my GEEK OUT session here.

And thus endeth the really long tea log. I’m giving Jackee the ratings bump back to where he deserves to be, now that he has realized his potential for me again.

Squee!

I got my Samovar order in today and I am so glad this is back in my life. Like, seriously, so glad.

When I ordered this the first time, I went out on a limb and got a large tin because I love orange, I like ginger, and I trusted Samovar. It was a good thing, because this has become a tea I very often love to have to finish the day.

I put about a teaspoon and a half into 8 oz. of water, and I think I was using more water [probably closer to nine, nine and a half] before because it came out stronger. I didn’t mind it though, especially because I could actually feel the ginger warming my insides. If you’re not a huge fan of ginger, I’d recommend upping the water volume or steeping it for around 4 minutes instead [this is a tea with which I have done much experimentation] because it becomes less noticeable there.

Especially now, in the midst of winter, I’ll probably continue to brew this strong. Once it starts to warm up I’ll likely revert to something a little weaker. The main tastes that I get out of this are the citrus [mainly orange, maybe a hint of that extra puckery lemon, but just a hint] and the ginger. The licorice is barely noticeable to me, and really I think it’s just there to add depth to the sweetness.

It’s like what I think a glass of orange cider would be like. I’m a big fan. Giving it a small bump.

Auggy’s right. This smells like Pledge. I actually smelled it and thought Pine-Sol, but those two are pretty close. Also, maybe a little bit of cedar. It’s not really a scent that inspires confidence when what you’re smelling is something you’re about to ingest.

Luckily, she’s also right in that it doesn’t taste like that. This was a milder tea for me, so far as teas go. Somehow, though, the combination of the lemon and the chamomile reminded me of potpourri. Originally, they combined to make me think I was getting a woody kind of taste, but now I’m definitely thinking it’s closer to potpourri. Eh. I can see where the thought was. Maybe if the lemon was a little bit stronger, this wouldn’t taste so strange, but…eh.

Just…eh.