311 Tasting Notes
My hours have just been increased to actually, properly full time at work as of today, and I’m torn between rejoicing and being totally afraid this means I’m going to end up massively overtaxed with things to do. Especially since I’m currently sat in my office not able to do anything because all of the things rely on other people doing their bits first. Oh well. I’ve got articles to write up for Cultbox, and if I’d thought ahead to bring my tablet with me, I’ve got a couple books I need to review. There’s knitting in my purse, but that may be a little egregious should anyone find me mid-stitch when they come to knock on my office door. Never mind.
This blend is such an autumn/winter thing, all sweet, juicy apple and cinnamon and ginger, with a subtle but present backbone of brisk black tea. It’s slightly managing to smoosh down the fear that everything is just about to go terribly, horribly wrong, in any case.
Ok, so I guess I’m grudgingly getting into the holiday spirit. Or maybe it’s just that it’s cold outside and the residual heat from the oven when you leave the door open after you’ve baked a batch of cookies means you don’t have to put the radiator on, thus killing two electricity birds with one stone. Or that it’s grey and grim as heck and I need all the blankety, cardigan-flavoured, comfort things I can get to keep me going.
Whatever it is, the flavour of peppermint, dark chocolate, made deep and toasty warm with a pinch of bonfire, is totally hitting every conceivable spot right now. It is definitely the time of year for all my winter warmer teas. The rain seeps into your bones here. That’s why they drink so much tea. You need it to protect you, and Benton’s doing an admirable job.
Oh god, no.
It’s like my whole mouth is crying. It might be my own fault for having to use a zip-tap for water at work, or the fact that this is 6 months past its use-by date, or it sat on my desk a minute too long, or something, but ugh. I get that there’s raspberry in there, but mostly I’m getting overriding bitterness. Like, SO bitter. Like a festival of all the tannins in the world concentrated into one cup. It’s everything I hate about white tea. Even 4 sachets of sugar couldn’t save it. Nope, nope, nope.
It seems like peach is one of those flavours I don’t instantly gravitate toward as a favourite tea thing, but will very occasionally really fancy. And I do really fancy this one! It’s juicy and peachy and there’s a warmth that comes from the vanilla and it’s just really lovely. Dammann does do fruits well, my goodness, they do. The base sits in balance with the flavours, and there’s a little floral whisper that makes it feel like an elegant summer afternoon in a resplendent garden.
Given how grim the view is out my office window today, it’s a welcome distraction.
Fairly sure this is what I wolfed down 3 sample cuppies of at the T2 shop in Shoreditch; why I didn’t buy it, I can only guess I was being good knowing we’ve just moved house and resolutely do NOT need more stuff to store. Still, a good lung ching! I’d buy it when I’ve got a green gap next in my tea cupboard. No idea under what parameters it was brewed, but it was nice and sweet, low in astringency, with a touch of nuttiness and top notes of a lightly floral fruit. Yeah, this was lovely!
Been having quite a bit of this at the office this week – it’s really nice for winding down in the afternoons, with its light, moreish sweetness, and a flavour redolent of steamed greens, chestnut and soft brown rice, and a touch of maybe apricot. Oh, you cozy marvel, you beauty, you jewel among teas. With your help, I think I can muddle through this very daunting but oh so fun job. Wicked!
Heavens to betsy!
So tumultuous and crazy have the last few days of my life been that I went a bit weewoo brewing this and left it on the kitchen counter for 20 minutes. How is it still drinkable?
And drinkable it still is! With a light application of milk and sugar, it tastes like a lightly malty treacle toffee – kind of like my favourite Halloween candy you totally don’t get here in the UK. If I could convince my mum that it would be in the interest of my overall health to send a bag of those beauties across the ocean to me, I’d be in heaven. But knowing that just forgetting a cup of Five on the counter and then sugaring and milking it until it’s really strong and sweet is a liquid version of the same flavour is certainly a consolation.
Come to think of it, I’ve been so busy between moving house, previewing/reviewing the new series of Wizards vs Aliens for Cultbox, and trying to be employed again (say hello to the newest member of the Humanities Divisional Office!) that I still don’t know what I’m wearing for Halloween. Suggest me things!