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006/365

Made this one up as a matcha shot, with ¼ tsp whisked into whole milk. It was absolutely delicious, and I wish I’d made more! Usually, nut flavours on their own are not my favourite, but this was so creamy it was impossible not to enjoy. It tasted like liquid nougat, or something along those lines.

I should probably point out here that actual almonds are something I quite like, because they have a nutty creaminess all their own, a bit like this matcha. Almond things I don’t enjoy, except in the smallest quantities, are marzipan and amaretto. After more than a mouthful, I find there’s something artificially strong about them, even though I know that’s not actually the case. This matcha is much, much more mellow than either of those, more akin to actual almonds. It’s a strange distinction to make, perhaps, but one I find useful when it comes to almond-based things.

I’m sure this one’s going to work well as a latte, too. Can’t wait to try that!

005/365

I wasn’t sure what I wanted this morning, as I went through my tea drawer. I knew it wouldn’t be a herbal, because I feel so terrible in the mornings at the moment that caffeine is absolutely essential. I finally settled on this one, although the idea the description presented to me and the reality of this blend are two quite different things.

The description promises spice, tobacco, and pineapple, so I was thinking savoury/fruity. After a quick sniff, it became evident that chocolate would be the main deal, and it is. It’s a whole lot sweeter than I expected, with milk chocolate front and centre. There’s also a hint of pineapple, sweet and juicy, which pairs better with the chocolate than I was expecting. I mean, in my head, pineapple and chocolate isn’t the most natural combination. So, straight up, it’s really chocolatey and fruity.

Tobacco conjured up the idea of smoke, but there are no smoke notes here. It’s not like a lapsang, of anything of that ilk. What there is is a heady sweetness, more like a cigar or pipe tobacco, which in hindsight makes a lot more sense. It’s almost perfumey, but it doesn’t quite cross that line. Just sweet, and fragrant, with a touch of vanilla.

There’s a hint of black pepper right at the end of the sip, and that’s the only spicy note I get from this one. It works, in an off-beat gourmand sort of way.

It took a few sips for me to realise, but I actually really like this one. It’s quite desserty, which was unexpected, and I don’t feel like the description prepared me for that. The chocolate notes are top-notch, though, and the other flavours are complementary and well balanced. The black base (assam, plus a South Indian black) is smooth and malty, perfectly suited.

I’m late to the August Uncommon party, but glad to be here at last!

004/365

Apparently I’ve logged this one before, and only three months ago, although I have no recollection of it. My experience this time was a little different, so worth nothing again I think.

It’s no secret than I have a soft spot for Yunnan teas – Dian Hong being a particular favourite. I’ve not tried many “wild tree” varieties, though – I think perhaps only one before? I would have stayed away from this at one point, due to its reputation as almost a Sheng/Black hybrid. Pu’erh used to scare me, although not so much now.
This one is malty and rich, both in terms of flavour and aroma. There are strong initial chocolate notes, developing into a woody earthiness, and a distinct hit of leather. There’s also a strangely unquantifiable spiciness that isn’t really one thing or another; the closest I can get to describing it is black pepper and cinnamon, but that’s not exactly right. There’s something that reminds me of dried fruit, also – a raisin-like quality that works well with the spiciness. The end of the sip is more mellow, with notes of brown sugar and honey. Smooth, sweet deliciousness.
I wouldn’t say the influence of pu’erh is particularly strong here, except perhaps in the background earthiness. There are flavours present that are characteristic of some pu’erhs, perhaps, but I’d classify this one firmly as a black tea. I’m glad for that – it’s how I was hoping it would be.

003/365

I used up the last of my leaf as a cold brew. It was maybe a little on the light side, given that I didn’t have a massive amount left, but it’s still clearly peach flavoured. There’s a hint of ginger also, but it’s much less noticeable than it is when brewed hot.

I added lemonade to my second glass, just to see, and that’s a thing that works quite well with this one. I might buy some more of this next spring/summer, if it’s still around.

A unexpectedly sad sipdown!

002/365

I’ve tried this one a few times in the past, and I can’t say I’ve really enjoyed it. I think that’s why, of the 8 tins of tea I got in a David’s gift box…last year? Earlier? It’s one of the last three I still have kicking around. I don’t really get on with Jasmine.

It’s not so bad today. I can taste peach, and it’s a pleasant peach – juicy, fruity, as opposed to artificial/floral. I’ve certainly had worse peach teas. The jasmine is there, too, but it’s fairly mild. I see it almost as a complicating flavour – the peach with the white/green base was nice. Jasmine also? Unncessary. One step too far.

The thing I really don’t like about this one is how it becomes bitter and chemical as it cools. It starts off okay, but it quickly deteriorates into something I don’t really want to drink.

This one’s best drank hot and quickly. Lesson learned.

001/365

In an effort to maintain my current inspiration, I’m going to take a lead from the truly amazing Roswell Strange and attempt 365 days of tea. That should see me through my current cupboard (92, some of them older than I’d like to admit…), and into a whole, joyful world of brand new tea. What’s not to love?

Starting straightaway, as I obviously mean to go on, this is today’s tea. I haven’t had a matcha latte in fucking forever, so it felt good to finally do something other than dump a tea bag in a cup. I used 1/4 tsp of leaf, whisked into about an inch of boiling water, topped up with milk.

To taste, it’s maybe just a little on the artificial side, although mostly it reminds me of the jam you might find in a cherry bakewell. That, and cherry tunes, and maybe carmex. Let’s face it, there’s absolutely nothing natural about this cherry. Having said that, though, I do like it. It’s deliciously creamy as a latte (of course), and it’s got a candy-like vibe going on that suits my mood this evening. There is maybe a touch more grass to the overall flavour than I’d like, but it’s not too obtrusive.

Now I’m thinking of cherry bakewell, and as I also have a sample of Red Leaf’s Almond Matcha too, that’s something that could really happen…

Watch this space :)

Finally getting around to trying this one (it’s been a long time!) I like that the base is a combination of Yunnan and Sun Moon Lake, because those are two of my favourites where black teas are concerned. Any tea with either of those as a base is most likely going to be a winner with me. This one’s no exception, although it’s got a lot more going on than just the base.

I’m still stuck on the base for the moment, though. It’s rich and malty, with heavy, thick cocoa notes that are almost drying – it comes across as a little brisk initially, but that fades as it cools. There’s a really nice dark chocolate vibe straight off. The mid-sip brings more of the other flavours into play, beginning with a prominent nuttiness. That’s no surprise, as there was a huge whole pecan in my scoop of leaf. More unexpected was the fruitiness, which is reminiscent of a thick red-fruit/berry syrup. It’s an interesting in combination with the chocolate and pecan – very dessert-like. Further cooling brings out more of a smooth sweetness – caramel, vanilla, a hint of cream. It’s a great way to round off.

I brewed 1.5 tsp of leaf for 4 minutes in boiling water, and added a splash of milk. I might perhaps try it with a touch of sugar next time – I think that would make it more truly a dessert tea right from the get-go, and perhaps smooth out the initial roughness a little. I like this one, though. It’s my kind of tea.

I wasn’t all that impressed with this one last time I tried it. From what I recall, it was mostly rooibos and not a lot else, except maybe in the aftertaste. When I placed my last Bluebird order, what feels like a decade ago, I thought I’d pick up a sample and give it another try. I finished that sample today, and I was much, much happier with it this time.

For a start, it actually tastes like a rhubarb and custard straight up, from the very first sip. The initial flavour is sugared rhubarb; sweet, a touch tart. It’s easy to imagine the sugar coating on the sweet. The “custard” follows, more of a creaminess than anything, but totally delicious. The rooibos, for once, is confined to the background. It makes a good job of supporting the flavours, but it doesn’t impose its woodiness on everything in sight. It just…lurks. And that’s okay.

I’ve increased my rating of this one, because this time it lived up to its name. And I enjoyed it. It’s not world-bothering, but it’s nice.

I’ve been MIA for a long time, and to be honest I don’t know whether that’s (quite) over. I’ve had a lot on in the last year, I guess. I’ve moved into my own flat (and I’m very much enjoying living with absolutely no-one, let me tell you), but getting to that point was a 9-month thriller with more ups and downs than the average rollercoaster. I came out of it feeling pretty rough. Then there’s my job, which I dislike intensely, but still haven’t managed to change. All that kind of took a backseat while I was moving, because I felt like I had enough on right at that moment. Maybe next year I’ll be able to focus on improving things there. Other, mostly random, shit has happened along the way. I’m not going to bore you with it.

What it all adds up to is that I haven’t even opened my tea cupboard since I took ownership of my flat back in…May? I put the tea in there, closed the door, and haven’t even looked at it again since. For a while, I didn’t even feel the loss. I’ve still been drinking tea, but mostly just bagged black (Twinings English Breakfast or Everyday) that I keep in a different cupboard (because it shouldn’t be in with the proper stuff, am I right?) I’ve also been drinking those few that I have left at work, although generally I’ve stuck to one until it’s gone (since the beginning of the year, I think I’ve only drank Pekoe Orange Blossom Oolong, Pekoe Japanese Cherry, Bluebird Rhubarb and Custard, and a few Teavivre samples?) It got to the point where I would actually feel anxious about finishing a tin or bag, because then I’d have to find something else to drink, and that’s a very, very odd thing to feel anxious about. Particularly when you love tea like I do. I think it’s somehow all tied up with how I feel about work, like maybe I’m projecting my anxiety about/dislike of my job, onto the tea. Don’t know. Don’t really want to know.

Today was one of those days, except that, for the first time in ages, it didn’t feel so bad. I picked out a tea with no great enthusiasm, but by the end of the cup I was feeling enthusiastic again. Maybe because I liked it when I didn’t expect to? But it’s not like that’s never happened before. Then I came back on here, and I read some of your notes, and in some ways it felt like emerging from a dense fog.

I think I’m almost back.

I think I might look in the tea cupboard this evening. I might even actually buy some tea this weekend.

This is fucking fantastic.

Unless it’s just an illusion. Then it’s not.

I ordered this one kind of on a whim, because I’d had a couple of decent peach teas at the time, and it was a Bluebird blend I’d somehow managed to overlook. Judging by the name, I was expecting this to be mostly ginger, maybe (if I got lucky) a little like ginger biscuits. It’s no secret that I don’t really like ginger, though, so I was hoping that the peach in the description would somehow come out on top.

Thankfully, it does, and that only reinforces my opinion that the name of this tea is misleading. It’s primarily a peach/papaya blend, very fruity, with just a touch of pepperiness in the right places. There’s a kick of ginger heat/spice/warmth in the background, but that’s all it is. Ginger haters need not fear! I would go so far as to say that I actually actively dislike ginger, but I have to admit that here it works well. It’s the perfect counterpoint to the peach, which is pretty sweet, and complements it graciously. It’s a well-rounded, well-balanced blend, of the kind you don’t come across too often. The fact that it’s a heavily fruit-based blend with no hibiscus pleases me, as does the smooth, slightly grassy green tea. Don’t be fooled, though – green tea (like the ginger…) is firmly in the minority here. There are a scattering of leaves in the blend, but its impact is small. I would consider this a fruit blend, first and foremost.

It’s a shame such a great blend is so badly named. Ginger and green are not what you’ll get if you buy this tea, and that’s somewhat bewildering.