So here’s the thing about this tea – it’s very light, subtle, but surprisingly well-rounded.
Being accustomed to the more deeply-steamed senchas, most of the senchas I have had are strong, robust, and bursting with flavor. This is a much more restrained fare, but I find it growing on me more and more.
The coloring foreshadows the sparkling, almost weightless qualities the flavors hold; it brews into a very pale yellow-green. The scent is a bit more vivid. Though slightly faded in comparison to some other senchas, it still holds that roasty, grassy quality along with something else underneath that’s difficult to place. It’s kind of sweet and a little salty. Hyacinth mixed with the ocean.
And then the main event. As I started drinking this, I thought it tasted okay, but that it was weak. Then the flavors started to build up as my taste buds became accustomed to it; it is a deceptively lively tea. First off, I will say that the aftertaste on this is rather amazing; a hint of bitter that is counterbalanced with a fresh sweetness that found me staring, openmouthed, at the wall for a few minutes before my dog nudged me out of it for some belly rubs. I probably looked like I was having a stroke, but it caught me off guard and it’s taking me a very long time to finish this cup because I keep on riding the aftertaste.
The flavor of the liquid reminds me of biting into iceberg lettuce, or a sweet green pepper. The finish as I swallow is more a roasted and makes me think of corn.
This is something to drink slowly and savor – especially the aftertaste, which is kind of magical. And I don’t know if it’s the tea or the fact that it feels really good to be home or some combination of both, but I had a very frenzied day at work today and I find myself feeling incredibly relaxed at the moment.
Time to go for a second steep.
