TeaEarleGreyHot Send Message

I bought these cute mini cakes of ripe pu’erh about 2 1/2 years ago and was initially unimpressed. However, true to the promise of YS, they have improved with age! No fishiness or foul odors, but a cool fragrance of forest floor during a light snowfall on an early-winter morning. the flavor has intensified since purchase. I snapped the 8g cake in half and gave the 4g piece a 10s wash in boiling water, which loosened the compression a bit. The first steep was a minute in 8 ounces boiling alpine spring water, and 6 further infusions varied from 15s to 3 min at the end. Flavors were inoffensive, and reminiscent of freshly-sawn lumber, and assamic black tea with slight earthiness. I enjoyed every steeping, which ranged from a thick, near-black soup, to a medium brown in color. The coin-sized, wrapped cakes are convenient to carry on a journey and the leaf particles were generally over 1 cm in size, making simple decanting with a spoon or improvised gaiwan feasible. And if one is truly sturdy, the tea could be drunk grandpa style, though I would definitely suggest using only a partial cake, perhaps a fourth of one. But again, that makes them handy for travel. Still available from YS, and reasonably priced.

This week, I rediscovered this tea in the depths of my tea drawer. Okay, tea cupboard. Okay, tea closet. It has mellowed a bit in storage during the 4 years since my last tea note, but is still quite nice. Unique aroma is still evident when brewed (5g in 8 oz boiling alpine spring water, western style using a steel tea strainer). Gave it a 5 sec. rinse in boiling water, then steeped 30 sec. at first, lengthening the time with each resteep. The leaves opened up quickly enough and the tea was an amber brown. Good sipping on this snowy winter morning! Pity that YS no longer lists this for sale, but they do offer apparently similar teas now. Raising my rating by 5 points, to 77, as this is free of the defects that haunt so many Puers. I’m looking forward to sipping this all day, as I have been getting about 6 good infusions from each dose of leaf now, by this method.

Peculiar name notwithstanding, I enjoyed this tea. The dry leaf has a wonderfully fruity and peachy aroma, which carried through into the brewed tea. It was really peach-forward! Sweet tasting as well, likely from the apple content, but I added a strong dose of Splenda, too. While the apple and ginger were discernible, I can’t say that I was aware of safflower, dandelion, turmeric, or even the pu’erh itself. Does safflower even HAVE a flavor?

It was not disclosed whether it was a shou or sheng puer, but there was none of the compost/ woody/ forest/ fishy/ camphor notes that might be expected. And the steeped brew was fairly light in color, too. Not bitter nor mushroomy, non-astringent. So my guess is that it is a soft, young sheng. Anyway, pu’erh aficionados may be disappointed, but those afraid of typical pu’erhs can sip this without hesitation. I was only sipping on a friends supply and don’t think I’ll buy it myself, because the peach was just a bit overwhelming for me.

Perhaps if it had been real peach pieces rather than flavorings, I might have enjoyed it more. But it’s definitely not bad, and if the good comments I’ve made here intrigue you, then I’d encourage you to try some! I brewed one sachet western style in 8 oz of 95°C alpine spring water for 4 min, as directed.

Just received this tisane today and have been eager to try it! Have been looking for some chamomile and fruity blends. Steeped a heaping teaspoon of leaf in 8 oz. 95°C alpine spring water for 4 min., as directed by Tealyra, western style using a stainless infusion basket.

The aroma is pungently pleasant, of fruit salad, with discernible chamomile and citrus and a touch of ginger and hibiscus. The flavors are wonderfully proportioned. The chamomile was there without dominating, and the tangerine & orange oils gave a great citrus accent and sweetness, while the bite of ginger announced itself as well. I was glad to find the hibiscus was tame, and present at just the right level to round out the flavors on the tongue., without being overly tart. Probably residual sugars in the schizandra berries and the licorice root helped keep the ginger, hibiscus, and rose hips from being too sharp, though I had difficulty identifying the flavor elements of the berry, which is new to me. I’ll have to pick out a few of the dry berries and chew on them a bit to see what they have to offer. The licorice root was undetectable to me, even in the finish, and that was my only disappointment. Nor did I taste anything rose-y, though the hips may have added to the floral aroma.

I did not sweeten this cup, though I sometimes do add splenda or raw sugar to herbals like this, and I’m sure it would be nice too. The aroma and the lingering finish are the winners with this concoction, which will be nice on cold, snowy winter evenings to come!

My most recent order for Tealyra’s Princess Grey was 3 years ago, a year after typing out my previous note, posted here. Sadly, I’ve not used many of the sachets yet. I looked for a “best by” date on the package without success, but it’s safe to say that the tea is past its prime, despite the well-sealed mylar bag. Happily I was met with a soft aroma of bergamot as I withdrew a sachet (the straight Earl Grey I’d bought at the same time was much more pungent in bergamot, so this confirms that Princess Grey is a gentler blend). I observed that the black tea leaves inside were a medium chop, not fannings or dust, and not CTC granules, either. The packaging says it was product of Canada, which I expect means it was blended in Canada of ingredients sourced elsewhere.

I steeped the sachet in 8 oz. boiling alpine spring water for 4 min., western style. In the steamy aroma, I could discern the peach and hint of orange, but no chrysanthemum, nor any assamic or keemun aromas that my previous batch had, nor other floral notes, so I conclude the base tea is a sinensis variety grown in Sri Lanka or elsewhere outside of Assam, China, Taiwan, or Myanmar (nor Canada, for that matter). I stand by my prior assessment, except that the black tea base was weak, without much contribution of flavor, astringency or body. It is possible that the base changes from lot to lot, according to what they have on hand. And though the smooth flavor of bergamot was prominent, the orange peel was only very slightly detectable. Any contribution by chrysanthemum was absent. Every so often I would get a whiff of peach in the nose, but not on the tongue. The diminished orange and peach may be due to age, or this particular lot. I did enjoy the brew, as it was smooth and pleasant without bitterness or defects, but it didn’t merit a 90 rating this time. So now I’m giving it 85, and will increase the infusion to 5 min. and drop the temp to 90°C, as I continue to sip it down. Still recommended with a smile!

When drinking martinis, one of my favorites included (the now discontinued) Absolut Kurant vodka, which was an honest-tasting, un-sweetened, blackcurrant infusion. I love blackcurrant, but not artificial blackcurrant flavoring, so Harney’s claim of a “delightful” aroma is a bit of a stretch for me. Because that is what hits my nose when I open up the tin of Paris, like a stampede of perfumed buffalos, even after half a decade of storage in my tea cabinet. I steeped the tetrahedral sachet of Paris in 8 oz. of 90°C alpine spring water, per the suggestion of user ashmanra, for the 5 min. directed by H&S.

Fortunately, the steeping drives off much of the blackcurrant power, and so in the first sip, it merely fills my sinuses with aroma of artificial currant and caramel. The vanilla sings in sotto voce at the back of my tongue, and the overall blend is quite pleasant. I can’t really suss-out the flavor of bergamot, nor can I clearly identify the base tea. Perhaps some of the fleeting floral notes are coming from the oolong that partly comprises the base. I find that I appreciate the lingering deep finish of vanilla and caramel quite a lot more than the initial punch in the nose by those heavy-handed top notes.

I think apricot or plum flavor might be a superior replacement to the black currant, if I were to blend something, hopefully allowing the oolong and bergamot to emerge. As much as I love the City of Paris, this isn’t really my cuppa tea. But, it might be yours!

Sipdown! This was included in my Feb 2020 Premium Tea Club box, and has been sitting in dark storage for 2 yr since my last note on it. (Cakes and samples are still for sale affordably on the YS website.). Today I steeped my last bit of it — a 5.3 g chunk — in 8 oz. boiling alpine spring water, after a 10s rinse under hot tap water, in my stainless steel infusion basket. I was unable to pry apart the leaves very well, so some compressed chunks remained.

The first 15s. steep yielded a clear dark yellow tea with a tidepool aroma of seaweed, salt, fresh mussels and… tea. The flavor was smooth, mild, umami, and not at all fishy or decayed. A distinct chestnut flavor was apparent, but no woodiness. The leaves had not fully expanded. A second steep, 25 s. gave a clear light brown tea, only slightly marine, but nicely aromatic of fresh tea with some assamica notes of malt. The leaf had mostly loosened up and separated here. There was some astringency, but mostly a smooth clean flavor of assamica-like malty tea. Traces of mint lingered in the finish. I really liked this and already believe it is among my favorite sheng pu’erhs!

After a 30 min. pause, the third steep of 45 s. and #4 of 2.5 min. produced more clear bright brown tea with aroma and taste much like the second. Another pause, of 90 min. Steep #5 (1 min.) and #6 (5 min.) were much the same, but a bit more dilute. Raising my rating by 20 points now.

I found a tin of African Autumn sachets in the back of my tea cabinet and lifted the lid for a whiff. It’s been four years since my last tasting of this tisane. Wow, the aroma of GREEN COCKTAIL OLIVE BRINE is overwhelming! Now this is supposed to contain orange and cranberry and hibiscus as well as rooibos, but the aroma was just so wrong to my sensibilities that it was a struggle to brew it up. But since I do like hibiscus and orange peel and cranberry—and green olives too (in food and martinis)—I pushed forward and steeped a cup according to Harney’s directions.

After the 5 min. steeping, the olive aroma had declined considerably. I was able to taste notes of orange and cranberry, and a touch of hibiscus in the lingering finish, so I’m raising my rating by fourteen points, for it having some redeeming qualities, but am still greatly disliking the flavor combination to the point of nearly being nauseated by it. And yes, there is taste of green olive in the finish, too. I have no idea what straight rooibos offers in the way of flavor, but it can’t be anything I like because this stuff is wretched. Your impressions may differ, of course, and I wish you luck if you try it.

Having been inspired by Roswell Strange’s review of a kombucha, I decided to experiment with this tangerine peel (elsewhere called “chen pi”) shou cake by adding crushed fennel seed and dried hibiscus flowers. And it worked out nicely! (I commented on Ros’ review at http://steepster.com/roswellstrange/posts/453924 )

I combined 5 grams of the ripe gong ting cake (that breaks apart easily and is nicely loaded with large chen pi chunks) with 1.25 grams of crumbled dry hibiscus flowers and a large pinch (~ 1/4 teaspoon) of crushed fennel seed from my spice rack, in a stainless steel infusion basket. While the alpine spring water was heating up to ~95°C, I rinsed the mixture under a stream of hot tap water for 10 sec. The first and second infusion were 10 sec. and 30 sec. The next four infusions (after a half-hour pause) were again in 95°C water and increased stepwise from 15 sec to 4 min., 8 oz each time.

First steeping was a bit fennel-forward, but still the tangerine and puer flavors were in command, with a refreshing tang from the hibiscus! I would have liked a stronger and sweeter tangerine element, but won’t fault the ripe pu’erh cake for being what it is! I wonder what might have been the impact of orange blossoms, an aroma I fancy, but don’t have on hand. The chenpi is decidedly not like bergamot, which I do enjoy (per my moniker here), and it might be nice to play with hibiscus and fennel in other Earl Grey teas.

As might be expected, all flavors declined gradually in steepings #2 – #6, but they remained balanced and only the hibiscus was barely noticeable in #6. Consequently, in the future I’ll stick with these component proportions, but brew Western style in a larger (1 quart or so) teapot for 3 minutes. Might be nice with a little sweetener when iced. Thanks, Ros, for the inspiration!