This tea is a dream. But I don’t mean that in the standard “yay – happy – life is great” meaning of dream. I mean the actually discordant random chaining of events your brain comes up with late at night, possibly after eating too much late-night pizza. Let me explain.
The packaging on this is beautiful. They send their tea in an amazing brown and pink high-end gift box complete with big satin pink bow. I should be at a spa for packaging like this. In the dream, there would be cherubs and happy music. Until you untied the bow and opened the box. Then the lighting would change, and possibly add a whole bunch of discordant notes to the score. My first though: it looks like chamomile and pot. Lots of small little bits of green with twiggy parts, and flower heads. And now I’m lost for words. Really. Wow….
Now, as I’m at my work in this dream, I’ll risk running afoul of my HR department and brew this up. (Think they’d believe me if I claimed “No, no! Really! It’s just tea!” I know we’re a drug-free workplace!” ??) Opening the plastic, the aroma is quite strong. The main scent is chamomile with an underlying hint of something green and something sweet, but undefined. Time to add the water. In the dream, the scene would shift quickly to a Japanese tea shop because – WOW – it looks almost like matcha. It’s very thick, opaque, and GREEN. As it brews, it’s turning more brown. It’s reminding me of murky swamp water. Um.. I don’t like where this dream is going.
After about 3 minutes, I strain the tea, and try it. And now we’re in a nightmare. Very chamomile but with a cloying natural floral sweetness I can’t place, and an almost chemical aftertaste. I cannot finish this cup. It’s like drinking a hippie’s herbal perfume experiments gone wrong. I try cooling it down, and watering it down, but no luck.
If you think that chamomile is the best thing in the world, you may like this tea. But I’m sorry – this tea scares me. I can’t drink any more of this. I don’t even think I’ll pawn this off on someone.
But I will keep the box.