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This tea initiated my tea swap with Carolyn, because I’d been having such a crappy time of trying out Dragonwell. Let me say that if this is how Dragonwell is supposed to taste, either I was doing something horribly wrong before or this one is simply far superior. I’m going to have to revisit Tavalon’s Dragonwell and maybe, if I’m feeling brave, I’ll try Adagio’s again.

Carolyn mentioned in her review that this has a nutty scent to it, and that’s what I smell, too. The nutty aspect is absent in the taste for me, though.

Dragonwell Spring is light, smooth, clean and overall very refreshing. It’s got a sweet edge to it that seems chlorophyll-like, but it doesn’t read like a grassy tea to me. I can’t really relate the taste it has to…anything. Not anything that’s not pretty abstract anyway. So I’m going to try to explain what this tastes like to me.

It makes me think of those days during the summer when you come in from running around or doing yard work or whatever and you are HOT and DEHYDRATED. So you grab a glass and gulp down water like you’ve been in a desert for a week and holy H2O, Batman, water has never tasted SO GOOD before. It’s cool and quenching and it almost tastes sweet. It’s like in books, when they talk about characters arriving at springs and drinking from it. This tea makes me think of the way that they describe how that water tastes.

It also reminds me of the citron teas that I’ve been trying, but without the citron. It’s breezy and subtle, but at the same time very much present. Soothing and relaxing. I really like this tea. The aftertaste has a lingering, almost nectar-y sweetness to it. If I were drinking it blind, I’d almost think it was a white tea, but it’s got a smidge more oomph. I can see it becoming my default tea for when I want something simple, bright, and without a lot of flavor.

So thanks, Carolyn, for turning me around to Dragonwell. It makes me a little sad to think that I almost gave up on it because this is pretty fantastic. Lesson learned.

There’s a place in DC near the U Street Corridor called ACKC that is filled to the brim with chocolate. Their chocolate is pretty good, but the real reason I find myself trekking out there during the cold season is for their hot chocolate. It’s a good walk from the nearest metro station, which is a good thing because though I’ve never asked for the nutritional information [mostly out of fear] I’m positive it’s not the healthiest thing in the world. One of my favorite things to do when it’s chilly out is to get a cup of this stuff and wander up and down 14th street, because they have all kinds of fun, boutique-y shops over there.

They have a lot of different kinds of hot chocolate, but a quick front runner for me is what they call the Lucy, named after Lucille Ball because of her fiery personality. They add a little chipotle and cinnamon, and it gives it a nice kick that becomes especially enjoyable when the cold starts to bite at you.

Decaffeinated Chai Agni reminds me of the Lucy. It doesn’t taste so much like chocolate, which makes sense [though I do taste chocolate notes], but it is freaking good. It’s got that heat from the chili pepper and it marries well with the spices they use in the chai.

I made this like I make all of my chai – 2 cups water, 2 tbsp sugar, 2 tbsp chai, 2 cups milk. I let it sit for as long as I could until the smell filled the house and I couldn’t take the waiting any more. I also stuck half of it in the fridge, so I’ll likely log my thoughts on it chilled once I drink it. It’s different from my favorite – Samovar’s Masala Chai – but not in a bad way.

So, here are my final thoughts. First and foremost: the chili. It can’t be ignored and it’s both a blessing and a curse. I’d say that more often than not, I’m going to want it without, but there are definitely times that I am going to crave that kick. The chai base is solid and good enough to stand on its own in my opinion, but that spicy heat is what makes it special.

Secondly, the fact that it’s decaffeinated is rather brilliant. Chai is more of a mid-afternoon to evening fare for me, and caffeine will keep me up longer than I want it to if I don’t time things carefully. [Funny that Carolyn just posted that stuff in the forums that mentioned that Asians metabolize caffeine more slowly.]
http://steepster.com/discuss/89-what-is-your-tea-of-choice-for-night-time

This is not only more easily accessible than hot chocolate in DC, it’s very likely better for me and cheaper both by the cup and because I avoid spending money at stores. I’m not saying that it’s a complete replacement, as there is definitely something to be said for the experience of window shopping with a friend and hot chocolate in hand, but am I going to buy some so I have it at hand when I want it immediately? Absolutely.

I needed a break from brain work earlier today, so I decided to make some tea and beat up some people on Fat Princess. I got some chai cooking on the stove and brewed a cup of Colonille, sent to me by Auggy, to tide me over while I was waiting. And beating.

It could just be that I was distracted because I was too busy burninating on little cartoon people, but I couldn’t taste the chocolate that this is supposed to have in it. What I did taste was the vanilla. I’m going to have to try this alongside the Rooibos Bourbon Vanilla Carolyn traded me, because although one is rooibos and one is black, they remind me very much of one another.

What I can say about this is that it’s warm, inviting, and for me is equivalent to a tea hug. It’s something I want to revisit when I’ve got some place comfortable to sit with a blanket and a book. And maybe a fire. And maybe replace the book with a PS3 controller. And maybe whilst sitting there I’m destroying some cartoon lives on Fat Princess.

I’M SORRY! I’ve got asploding on the brain.

Seriously, though, going to need to drink this again when I can give it the attention it deserves. What I got out of it, though, I enjoyed.

Slowly but steadily, I am making my way through the teas I got through tea swaps. This is another Auggy tea, and it fit in rather snugly into my day. Fit my mood very well, and helped me work through some school stuff.

This tea is light in flavor, but that keeps it refreshing instead of cloying. I could see it being that kind of sickly sweet – like canned lemonade concentrate. But it’s on the other end of the spectrum – not at all syrupy. More like…essence of limeade. Eau de lime. I can definitely see what people are saying when they compare the overall taste to Fruity Pebbles, but don’t worry, it’s not like drinking everyone’s favorite Flintstone breakfast cereal. [I’d say Yabba Dabba Yum here, but I can’t make myself say it seriously, so I’ll just mock it by groaning at myself and leaving it in the brackets. GROAN.]

This tea has a fresh scent to it that carries through the taste. It reminds me of that citron green [I think that’s what it’s called] but it doesn’t do a suction vacuum number on my mouth. It also has a lighter hand on the flavoring.

I’d love to say that I could taste the oolong in it, but it eluded me. I’m beginning to think that the flavor of flavored oolongs is just going to always outweigh the oolong taste for me. Or maybe they just blend together too closely and I just can’t separate the flavors. Either way, I enjoy what this tea has going on when considering the whole package, so there’s a good chance I’ll be ordering it when I get around to ordering from Rishi.

It isn’t going to be a comfort tea for me. It’s one of those head-clearing, woo-sah, take a deep breath and begin anew teas. It reminds me of one of the lines in one of my favorite movies, Waitress: “Start fresh.” [Which has probably been said in other movies before it, but Waitress is such a good movie.] Considering all of the tea I drink, I don’t have a ton that slip into that category. And so, for me, this works.

All right, Steepster-verse. It’s late here on this slice of the planet and je suis fatigue. So fatigue, apparently, that I’m pulling out my high school French to express it to you. I’m not motivated to go to a Word document and copy out the accent aigu [not sure on spelling there] to properly spell the word fatigue, so just let’s just pretend.

I needed something to drink that wouldn’t keep me up for hours and so I decided to give this one that Auggy sent me a boiling hot bath. Upon typing that it sounds horribly painful.

Dry, this tea just looks like mini wood chips, but wet it takes on a nice, deep burgundy coloring. There’s also a couple of pieces of what I can only assume to be actual hazelnuts in the mix. Here, have a picture.
http://twitpic.com/ra5lx

See? Wet wood chips!

I can see why this reminds people of coffee. Hazelnut syrup or hazelnut flavored creamer are often used in coffee drinks, and the scent of it on its own is reminiscent of coffee beans.

Does it taste like coffee?

No.

Does it taste like hazelnuts?

Mmm…kinda?

This reminds me of the Almond Cookie I tried [that Auggy also sent me], in that the taste mainly blooms once it is downed. There’s a faint, and when I say faint, I mean really, really faint, sweetness floating in the liquid, but I’m not getting much else. Sometimes that sweetness takes on a nutty profile, and sometimes it tastes like when you dump a packet of sweetener into a cup of bad coffee.

I also don’t consistently get a lot of flavor in the aftertaste, which is a shame, because when I do it’s good. [This might sound weird, but I get that taste more consistently if I keep my mouth shut and breathe out my nose. Don’t know why.]

It reminds me a lot of wafers. That kind of dry, flavorless flavor. Also, biscotti. I had hazelnut biscotti once that tasted very bland and this reminds me of that. Actually, I’ve never had biscotti that really tasted any good. I don’t know why I keep trying it. If anyone knows where you can find good biscotti in the DC/MD/VA area let me know, because I want to know what all the fuss is about.

I know a lot of people don’t like rooibos, but I’ve found myself planted on this little island of people who do like it. That may be why I was expecting more. To me, rooibos has a fuller flavor to it, so I don’t know if it’s just because this is honeybush, of which this is the first I’ve tried, or because this tea is just made of weaksauce.

So…yeah. This unfortunately isn’t nearly robust enough to fill any coffee needs I may have still lurking about. It also isn’t flavorful enough to be something I would consider buying. But the smell is absolutely delicious and it isn’t so completely devoid of taste that it’s a pain to drink or anything.

Siskel and Ebert give it two thumbs sideways. WAY sideways!

After Auggy tried this one I decided I’d stop being lame and try it.

I don’t know why I was so intimidated with it. I think that it was because it looked so different from what I’ve gotten used to. I’ve had mugi-cha before in Korean BBQ restaurants and I’ve really enjoyed that, so it shouldn’t have seemed so foreign to me, but even I’m a little afraid to delve into how my brain works so I’m not going to dig any further.

Anyhow, there’s a nice picture of it that you can already see, but here’s a triptych of my little experience last night.

http://twitpic.com/r4s7f | http://twitpic.com/r4sfk | http://twitpic.com/r4sia

I’m going to second everything that Auggy said, which yeah, is lazy, but also saves me from being redundant.
http://steepster.com/teas/maeda-en/5594-soba-cha-buckwheat-tea

In a sentence: light, sweet-glazed puffed wheat cereal.

In a word: NOM.

I can easily see this being a flavor that I crave on certain days and would go down extremely well after large, heavy meals. Especially ones that involve marinated meat. Maybe that’s why they serve barley tea at Korean BBQ – because after consuming what must have been a pound of bul gogi it emerges as one of the only things I can drink without wanting to die.

I got sleepy before I think the tea did – I stopped at cup three and went to bed. I’ll have to start this earlier with what I’ve got left and see how many cups I can get through before it goes weak on me.

I’ll be ordering more of this one once I make my way through the rest of the maeda-en sampler I got. S’good.

I’ve spaced on logging this a few times, so I’m going to do it before I forget again.

This is another occasion where the Harney and Sons has managed to impress me on their flavoring prowess. What with the surge of pomegranate’s popularity in the tirade of fruits and berries being pushed at us for their antioxidant/detox/cancer-fighting/etc. properties, it’s no surprise that the presence of pomegranate in tea has also seen a significant nudge in use.

In the midst of all the pomegranate madness, I’ve gotten my hands on a few pomegranate teas, and this one is so far leading the race in terms of matching up to the true flavor of pomegranate. For the most part, the others tasted very much like, you guessed it, hibiscus. [With all the hibiscus knocking I’ve done, I should stress here that I don’t dislike it. It’s simply a case of too much of a decent thing becoming boring. Additionally, I don’t consider straight hibiscus to be an acceptable substitute for whatever touted fruit flavor I’m supposed to be getting out of a tea.]

So, here’s the thing about this tea. The pomegranate flavor is definitely welcome. The tea on the whole is very light, and I enjoy this to a certain extent, but I can’t taste the oolong. It could be because I don’t drink a ton of darker oolongs and am not fully accustomed to the flavor. However, it could also be that, light as it is, the pomegranate is drowning it out. Taking all of this into consideration, I’m still not sure where I stand with this one, even after making my way through almost all of the sample. I think that I find it mostly enjoyable, but maybe this is why flavored oolongs are considered “taboo” by some people.

I didn’t have this with Thanksgiving Dinner because we were drinking wine [Cakebread, super super good stuff], but I did have it beforehand. It’s probably a good thing because I was 9 months pregnant with a food baby afterwards and there’s no way I could have drank something that had that much flavor in it.

If there’s something I can give to Harney and Sons, it’s that when they do a flavored tea, it TASTES like what it’s supposed to be. I’ve become so accustomed to the good ol’ hibiscus stand-in when it comes to any fruit-type flavor that has a tartness to it that I was really surprised when I drank this the first time and it still continues to impress. I mean, stunt doubles are fine every now and then – utilized well and they can make a scene better – but I’m not paying to see the stunt double, I’m paying to see the actor.

So, cranberries. Check. And the orange that this is supposed to contain came out more this time round, though that’s probably because the last time I was really concentrating on this tea I was sick and couldn’t taste much. It’s not light, citrusy orange, it’s more like that flavor used in heavy liqueurs. From the rind, and dark.

The black tea is definitely present, though I can’t tell what kind of black tea it is. Upon revisiting the product description, it said that it’s a mix of Indian and Chinese black tea. That makes me feel slightly better about not being able to identify it.

I do enjoy this tea, but sometimes straight cranberry is just a little too tart for me and I need at least a hint of sweetness to fully enjoy it. The next time I drink this I’ll probably try it with sugar or honey.

I hope all of you had super, fantastic, fabulous Thanksgivings, or in some cases, super, fantastic, fabulous days. Either way, hugs to everyone!

I got some mail today from Auggy and I did a dork-out dance by the mailbox. The first thing I did upon reaching my desk was find the almond cookie and get it started while I caught up on what I missed earlier today.

It’s raining again today, which has painted a gloomy background for the day’s activities. This is going to be a tea that begs me to be imbibed during any form of precipitation, because it is super comforting. But also, to be imbibed on most days.

I mean, let’s begin with the smell, shall we?

OM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM.

I think that pretty much sums it up, but in the interest of fairness to the tea, I’ll elaborate a bit more. It smells like almonds. And cookies. Almonds and cookies. Maybe even almond cookies? [I know, OF ALL THE COINCIDENCES!] But also, sometimes mint and chocolate. I’m not sure where I’m getting that from; maybe it’s the plastic bag. Or maybe it’s because I sat there smelling it for minutes while I waited for the water to heat and the tea to steep and for my internet to stop re-enacting Chariots of Fire’s slow motion sequence and function normally.

The tea. Again.

OM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM.

That’s like, three more noms.

The magic of this tea happens for me in the aftertaste. Letting it sit on the tongue brings out that dry spiciness that cinnamon gives you, and there’s not much else that I derive from it from the actual liquid taste itself. But after the first swallow, I was like, “Oooooh! There it is. COOKIES!”

The almond taste is there, and I get a little puff of the cinnamon. The base is reminiscent of a sugar cookie, but not quite as sweet. [Hah, clearly trying to avoid the now infamous “bake-y” here.] Sometimes I tasted almond croissant, too. All in all, there is no way that trying this isn’t going to result in an order.

Because, really, if a tea can trick me into thinking that I just ate a cookie, I’m all for it.

Woke up this morning and my stomach was NOT happy with me. Let me tell you, waking up to a big, “WAKE UP, LADY! Why you gotta eat spicy food? You KNOW I don’t like spicy food! And when I’m not happy, you’re no- what? No, I don’t wanna HEAR none-a that mess! Don’t eat spicy food! Just don’t eat- SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME, JUST DON’T EAT IT!”…

Right, then. Mint tea it is.

I like red licorice, but black licorice is not on my list of things I like to chew on. [This seems random, but walk with me for a second here.] As a child, a friend’s mother kept a bowl of black licorice jelly beans in foyer and I tried one once and spit it out without telling anyone. It ricocheted somewhere into their hall closet and I couldn’t find it. So after the great jelly bean incident of 1991, I would BOOK IT through the foyer, terrified that they were going to discover it and ban me from ever playing with my friend again. Well, that, and I was kind of afraid that someone would offer me a jelly bean.

My palate has since matured a bit, and I don’t have quite the same aversion to that black licorice taste, though I certainly won’t seek it out. [And if you were to offer me a black jelly bean I would likely politely decline.] Because fennel has that kind of licorice-y taste to it, I typically don’t like it when it is overpowering in a dish or what have you. The fact that it is bearable, even PLEASANT to me in this tea is speaking tomes to the power of a good blend.

Moorish mint a tea that I like to keep moving, either giving it a little swish in my mouth or drinking it quickly. There is a LOT going on in the aftertaste, and if I let the liquid sit on my tongue for too long the bite from the black pepper becomes overwhelming. The various components combine quite nicely, and the mint makes the overall effect refreshing.

Occasionally, I think I’m tasting chocolate in the background. Actually, I have moments where it tastes like Thin Mint. I mean, it’s not nearly as sweet and if I think about it too hard I lose it. And being honest, if what I were tasting were replicated into an actual cookie I’d probably laugh at you and hand you a five and tell you to go get me some real cookies. But as a tea, it works. It definitely works.

And it’s working on my stomach right now. I’m pairing it with the Lenka album and it’s made for a nice transition into afternoon. Time to go get some stuff done.