Harney & Sons

The hunt for the perfect chamomile continues.

These bags are from the stash my coworkers collected whilst we were at conference…the hotel rooms had tea as well as coffee, and they gathered me a baggie full. So who knows how old they are, but I’m brewing them up anyway.

I must say, for being just straight, plain, no-frills chamomile, this isn’t too bad. I’m sure that fresher bags would make a difference, but this is very light and delicate and smooth. It’s definitely chamomile, but it’s not flowery. I could see this ending up as a regular part of my stash.

For a bag tea, this isn’t bad. It isn’t as harsh as one might expect from a bagged tea. I’m not sure I’d ever buy this for use at my house but I’d definitely order it from restaurants that carry it.

There are few things more satisfying than hitting “send” on a writing assignment that you’ve been pecking away at since July, especially one that requires you to cook. Part of the requirement is sourcing and sampling kid-friendly, culture-related recipes. Not my strong suit.

Said assignment left me with half a quart of coconut milk, which, now that it’s open, I need to use up soon. Some of it is now residing in a pretty tasty Vanilla Comoro latte, which is creamy and pleasant, but not very coconutty.

Are any of you coconut milk savants? Is it good on cereal? In oatmeal?

Ain’t NOTHIN’ new to say about this tea. It’s all been said. Every cookie-y, gently sweet, pastry-like adjective has been trotted out, applied, and discussed to a rich and creamy death, by myself and scores of other vanilla lovers.

Doesn’t matter. I had some anyway. With half-and-half. So there. Nyahhh.

I was pleased to find a tin of this in my stocking today (a decaf pastry-pantry standard), but this post truly isn’t about VC…just had to share a giggle:

We are spending a lovely Jammy Day knocking about the house and reveling in Hobbit/Desolation of Smaug extended edition supplemental DVD’s … there’s a whole documentary bit on Peter Jackson and the mug of tea that is a permanent fixture in his hand, whether he’s in studio, on location, or climbing around the set. Asked his favorite kind, he said Kenyan Bold, although he changes up every couple of weeks to keep things different. We share an addiction with creative genius :)

Hope you all are having a lovely day of rest, ye merry gentlemen. Let nothing you dismay. Remember…

New tin, little almond milk. Good as dessert for a “simple pleasures” evening at home: kitchen that smells like bacon and the fresh carrot cake cooling on the counter; warming my feet on Tazo; good book at the ready once I get everybody else put to bed…ahhhh.

(Never noticed before: the tin recommends a 5 minute steep; 4 is about as far as I want to go without risking a bitter little bite; 3:30 even better.)

This has got to be one of the most oft-reviewed teas ever, so all I’ll say is that I’m glad to have some back under my roof. First time I’ve tried it in sachet form; the tin smelled just like a cookie jar. Don’t get too cocky and leave the bag in indefinitely; there is a point where it starts getting snitty on you.

I think every pleasant, sweet, toothsome, scrumptious, luxurious, satiny, pastry-like adjective in the book has been thrown at this one in the scores of reviews here. I am at a loss to add a new one. That does not, however, keep me from thoroughly enjoying this cup!

With a lemon creme Smallcakes cupcake, a snoozing kitty, and my best hubby (uh, the only hubby). Sometimes you just need a little pampering.

I am nowhere near the point I had hoped to be, to-do-list-wise, come sundown, but we try to let Saturday dinner mark the beginning of our rest day. Thus, I will pretend that the baskets of folded laundry in the living room are eclectic decorating touches and enjoy a little quiet with my feet up and a carefully hoarded cup of vanilla goodness (supply dwindling).

In honor of a deliciously chilly day, sun lowering beneath the flat layer of rain clouds draped over the sky all afternoon, I popped in a cinnamon stick while it steeped. Perfect scent of a cinnamon roll in the cup.

No, I don’t know why I’ve been hoarding my last two cuppas’ worth of this delectable, pastry-like decaf. As good as dessert. This could well make the Hall of Decaf Fame.

Not sure if it’s the season or the turn in the weather (wicked windy chill, clouds like anvils)—but whatever caused it, I am craving sugar and pastry in copious quantities. I’m even burning vanilla and warm sugar candles hoping to imbibe some through the lungs.

So, in a somewhat disciplined effort (well, at least until tomorrow) to avoid noshing myself into a carb coma, I chose this for dessert. Talk about creamy sugar cookie goodness—a little half and half, and this is nothing but perfection.

There’s just something about January (in this case, the fact that they’re remodeling at work and we’ve been stuffed into temporary quarters with absolutely no natural light and bulbs the strength of a flickering match) that makes me crave sugar in any configuration, in obscenely large quantities.

Thus, I’m rummaging through my stash for the sweetest, stickiest flavored goodies I can find. This is tops in that category, and the decaf feature is definitely a bonus. Now if I could just stick to the tea and leave the dessert & candy alone…

Been a while since I’ve sampled this one. Decided to reacquaint myself with whatever it is that has you Comoro junkies absolutely mesmerized. Duh! It’s that candy-sweet vanilla that smells like a Brach’s Milk-Maid caramel and makes you think you’re getting away with murder close to bedtime :)

I did toodle about and leave my cup to steep a little too long this evening, so the black base went a little bitter on me. Splash of half and half took care of that right quick. Tasty, tasty, tasty!

All this needed was a little love. (Milk.) Much better than my first experience.

Vanilla. Decaf. Not much more to say than that; it just is what it is.

A classic flavor, not dolled up with hints of this or essences of that. A splash of milk, and a gray morning if you can manage it, adds to the experience.

A classic flavor that gently wakes me up without unexpected surprises.

A no-nonsense breakfast tea. Slightly smoky today, but pleasantly so.

Accidentally let steep for a minute longer than usual. The resulting tea has a more robust “aged English furniture” note to it, but still mild and not a hint of bitterness.

A solid tea that brings to mind 400+ year old hard wood furniture and tapestries, an old stone home, a comforting fire in the fireplace. Aged? Classic? Vintage? Historic? Maybe all these things, maybe not. A tea that tastes from another time, and takes you there.

Strongly agree with the Lainie Petersen’s tasting note below. Not that strong like the other breakfast (e.g. Harrods) but very delicate taste and aroma. So surprising. I don’t recommend to add any sugar or milk.