The first time I ever had this tea, on the fourth (or so) steeping I said “It tastes like a campfire!” and David added “Yes, but one with silken pillows to sit on, and an elaborate cloth-of-gold pavilion in the background.” (paraphrased, of course) And since then, I’ve used “posh campfire” to describe this.
Don’t get the wrong idea: this is no Lapsang. Its campfire notes come from a sweet woodiness and a silken roasted flavor, not an overpoweringly thick smoke. (Can you hear my biases? Sorry.) The first steeping or two are relatively light but hit at the back of the throat; the flavor begins to settle and softly wrap your tongue after several steepings. By the fifth steeping the liquor is stunning, rich mahogany, and the flavor is in a comparable “full swing”. It gets drier, nuttier, and mustier as it goes, like embers burning down to cakes of sweet ash.