A tea as numbingly uncomplicated and unflavorful as life itself right now, and consumed just as habitually and mindlessly. I collected a bountiful supply of tea courtesy of ashmanra, and this has been my first sipdown project of the year coinciding with the return to academics. I’m one week deep in another semester and watching Cells at Work because one of my professors is a giant weeb and this has awoken a suppressed part of me that also desires to be but without success.
This tea brews a little dark. Steepster recommends a steeping time of four minutes, but the packaging recommends two to three and I personally tear off the string and plop the bag in the cup indefinitely because I’m a neanderthal. I can only touch so many wet strings before it starts to get old, okay. Speaking of wet strings, I just discovered I inadvertently steeped one of the drawstrings of my pajama pants in my tea because my room is so cold that I wedge my warm teacups in my lap or inside my hoodies to sustain me.
As for the tea itself, it doesn’t stand out as anything special. I identify pear in the aroma more than in the flavor. It’s drying, insubstantial, and not very receptive to resteeping. I drank several cups of this one night after a period of time in which I drank very little tea and I was wired for all but maybe two hours of the night. We’ve had some wild times, but I’ll be happy to move on from this tea and on to more enjoyable blends that taste less like pajama pants.