Thanks to Auggy who sent me the most gorgeously packaged teas ever, I am now sipping this tea. What a magnificent Lapsang! This tea exemplifies all the reasons I love the Lapsang Souchong in particular and smoky teas in general. I am not surprised by the wide range of ratings.
Certainly the aroma is absolutely indicative of a smoky tea. The aroma and the taste got me to thinking of Russian literature. I know that this is not labelled a caravan—but I thought of Boris Pasternak. One of the first literary controversies I was aware of was his Nobel Prize, gratefully accepted and then rejected, probably because of pressure from the Soviets. So I started reading his poetry and then I read his sweeping epic, “Dr. Zhivago” (the book is better than the film, which I haven’t seen for 40 something years).
This tea tastes like Yuri and Lara huddled up in a small cottage with the fire aflame. As Yuri Zhivago ventriloquizes Boris Pasternak, he reflects on winter:
“It snowed and snowed ,the whole world over,
Snow swept the world from end to end.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.”
This tea reminds me of the insistent beat and flame and flare and flicker of the candle burning on the table as the fire roars in the fireplace and the Samovar boils away.
Golden Moon has at this point my vote for Best. Lapsang. Souchong. Ever. I know I’ll drink more—for me the land o’ Lapsang is largely an undiscovered and yet to be mapped country—but I’m placing an order.
I know that this review is more evocative than specific but for what do we live but to be evoked into sensations, emotions, nostalgias, memories and tea, like poetry and music, is a wonderful vehicle. This Golden Moon Lapsang Souchong (spasibo, Auggy), has taken me back to late 19th and early 20th century Russia.