This is a tea that Sil shared with me, and I must admit I’ve been scared of it because it contains hibiscus. I can’t abide hibiscus. It tastes like blood and metal and I can’t drink anything hibiscus heavy without having my face contort itself into all sorts of grimaces. I can barely even persuade it to enter my esophagus. Therefore I was sneaky and tried this the first time in the big pot to share with Husband. That way, if I don’t like it, there’s a chance he might like it and I can foist my cup off on him. And there will also be less leaf left to worry about. On the other hand if I do like it, there’s still enough leaf left for one of my small Roy Kirkhams. Win-win, yes?
It smells like hibiscus. And because hibiscus is on my DNW list, that’s all I can smell. I’m sure there are other notes in there, but try as I might, I can only smell hibiscus.
Sil, what have you done? O.o
I’m comforted by the thought that I seem to recall having seen somewhere Stacey from Butiki admitting that she doesn’t care for hibiscus either, so that would make her a person highly unlikely to drown a tea in the stuff. I feel I can trust her to use it sparingly and discreetly. (That reminds me, I never got around to working out whether Butiki falls into my Out Of Bounds category of tea shops)
Yeah, there’s definitely hibiscus in this. pulls a face Again, for me it becomes a dominant note just for the fact that it’s there, even though I can tell that it does indeed seem to have been added very cautiously to the blend.
There’s fruit in here of some sort. I can taste it, even through the hibiscus, although I’m having difficulties recognising it. It’s the hibiscus distracting me, I think. Given the name of the blend, I’ll assume that it’s probably some sort of red berry. :)
I can also, amazingly, taste the pie crust! Whenever I’ve had any blend before where people talk about tasting crust, or pancake or pastry or what have you, I’ve always wondered if they’ve been drinking the same thing as me, because it’s always eluded me. Here it is though. It’s just… you can’t see it if you’re looking for it, but out the corner of your eye it’s very much there. I know it’s there, I can tell it’s there. But it’s hiding from me all the same. And that feels exactly as peculiar as it sounds.
All in all this tea is going quite well with the last piece of coffee and walnut gateau I made last weekend (gone a bit dry, but still totally nice)
This is the first time that I’ve had a tea containing hibiscus that wasn’t an instant dislike. It has not won me over on hibiscus-y blends though. I still think there’s a metallic blood-like tinge to this cup, even if it’s not as dominating as to forcing me to toss it. This is actually completely drinkable. It’s not even unpleasant.
This blend here is ultimate proof that other companies really are way too heavy-handed with hibiscus, treating it as filler, relying on it producing 95% of the added flavour to a tea, and that there is absolutely no reason to do so. This blend proves that hibiscus can be used for good but that it should be treated with caution. It proves that if you want a good blend with hibiscus in it, let someone who doesn’t care for it make the blend.
Has anybody tried this in a cold brew? I’m thinking it might work and contemplating using the last leaf that way. Would it be worth it to make the experiment? What do the Steepsterites think?