I’m not a particularly sophisticated guy. I like movies with things that blow up. Crude jokes make me laugh. I lounge around in athletic wear on the weekends with no intention to do anything athletic whatsoever.
I either lack the imagination or vocabulary to describe a perfectly innocent, stoic, pure black tea like this one. It has the earthy flavor that I love in black tea, the slight crispness, the lingering taste that reminds you that your mouth hasn’t completely purged itself of your last drink.
But that’s it, it’s just a good staple black tea. It’s like the tea you’d serve if the cops came over. You don’t want to serve bad tea, because you’d look like a schmuck. You don’t want to serve AMAZING tea, because you don’t want to seem like you’re trying to distract them. So you brew middle-of-the-road, English Breakfast. And here we are.
