Decaf Ceylon

Definitely not the best Ceylon, but I’ve been pretty desperate for an unflavored, decaffeinated black tea. Sometimes I just want TEA, not an herbal blend, but I can’t take caffeine after about 3pm.

I’m currently drinking this while working on a paper for my pastry class. I decided to write about scones, and I might be working a little tea into it as well. :) (But great googley-moogley, I would love a scone right about now.)

Just a late-night cup before going off to sleep. This loose leaf thing is kind of ritualistic and soothing in a way. It’s pretty late, so I figured I should try and steep up some decaf.

I’ve had Harney & Sons Decaf Ceylon bagged, so I sort of knew what this one was going to taste like. Ceylon has a very default “tea” flavor. It’s pretty mild, light, and soothing.

Adagio’s Decaf Ceylon was no different. It brew up a nice orange color, and didn’t have any strong smell (neither in the wet leaves nor in the actual cup). The taste was pretty full-flavored, even though it was decaf. My palate isn’t good enough to detect the difference between decaf and regular tea. Or maybe it’s the CO2 process that makes it taste pretty much the same.

The boyfriend tasted this one and he like it enough to have a couple of sips, commenting that it was smooth. I have to agree. I’m still surprised at how not bitter loose leaf is in any way. How pure and clean everything tastes. It’s like the essence of the tea leaf (which it essentially is).

Drinking this tea has granted me a new self-insight: with little doubt, there isn’t a single decaffeinated tea in the world that I can drink without finding it offensive, vile, and completely unwholesome. Before this experience, whenever I was served decaf tea, I rationalized away its awfulness with excuses: surely I couldn’t expect any better out of a teabag, surely the person who made this just didn’t follow the correct parameters, etc. Eventually, I bought this tea to prove to myself that a decent cuppa decaf can be made. After all, Adagio wouldn’t dare sell a bad tea alongside all its other, high quality offerings, right? I was subsequently yanked into reality with not just one, but seven cups of torture. I’m probably a latent masochist. But thus, I faced the hard cold truth: it’s impossible to enjoy a decent cup of tea late at night without consequence to my sleep.

This tea’s offensiveness won’t be immediately obvious if you just inspect the dry leaf. Compared with an unadulterated Ceylon (OP from Kennilworth Estate), there’s actually little visual difference. However, while the normal Ceylon is piney and citrusy, the Decaf ceylon offers only a faint note of hay.

Brewing this tea yields an impressively dark liquor. I’ve only ever seen pu’ers this dark. There’s a vague tanginess to the aroma, but not much else. Sipping it reveals a medium body and astringency, so you do get some of the feeling of drinking real tea. But that’s where the similarities end.

The marketing copy for this tea claims that there’s “sweet citrus notes like mandarin”, but believe me, there’s nothing of the sort here. My first impression is that I’m drinking hot rusty water. Upon further searching and slurping I find a messy handful of stinky grass with one or two stalks of fragrant hay. There’s something like a faint burp of caramel chew from a previous meal. It gives false hope for something interesting that may be brought out with milk, but upon the addition of milk, there’s only a second distant burp of caramel chew that is just as fleeting.

Given the choice between this and hot water, I’d go for the hot water.

It’s a reasonable cup for decaf. I let it get a little cooler than I’d like, but I’m soldiering through with a promise of a better cup next.

I’ve had this a number of times, so I’ll be compiling my experiences into a note.

The leaves, if you can call them that, are small and crumpled. They unfold to reveal low-grade tea. The leaves smell malty and bland.

Astringency and bitterness are well-controlled in this tea.

I’m normally all for complex descriptions using traditionally wine-based language, but this tea really doesn’t lend itself to that. The flavor is decently strong, fortunately, but it is extremely boring. There’s just some maltiness and what I’d describe as “tea” flavor. It reminds me of a bagged decaf, but stronger.

Since I have 4 oz of this, I’ve taken to mixing it with other teas. Mixed with Harney’s Vanilla Comorro or Decaf Paris, it helps to mellow out the, in my opinion, slightly overdone flavorings of those teas. That said, those are both far superior to this tea, the Vanilla Comorro especially.

This tea is a nice alternative to the standard decaf bagged tea. It is smooth, not bitter, and is just a nice tea when herbals just won’t do.

Very boring and bland. I made it strong, and I still wasn’t impressed by the flavor. I’m giving up on decaf black teas. I have yet to find one flavorful enough for me.

This was a nice decaf black tea. Not quite as strong as I’d like, but I’m sure that could be fixed by adding more tea. Had a surprising bit of sweetness to it.

I fixed a 4 cup pot of this for my wife and I last night. First time I’ve tried Adagio’s Decaf Ceylon. In short, it was a disaster! The tea had an off taste that I can only describe as “fish stock” and I poured the whole pot down the drain (I abhor fish stock and anything made with it).
For the record: 2 heaping teaspoons steeped with boiling water 4 minutes. The off taste was present at 90 seconds when I checked for color and just got worse with time.

You can certainly smell a hint of and taste a good portion of the citrus. Light in Color. Tremendously smooth going down.

Very nice. Decaf process hasn’t stripped out the gentle flavor.