Popular Teas from NUTESee All 16 Teas
Recent Tasting Notes
I came accross this tea accidentally when my brother brought if from a trip to northern Europe. What first impacted me is its packaging, which actually is a birch jar. The tea is organic, so I guess it makes sense…
Foreword and truth be told, I’m not a big fan of scented teas, or at least, this kind of sweet scented teas. This tea consists of a quite weak-tasting assam tea scented with rhubarb. I didn’t enjoy it very much. The scent of rhubarb kind of obfuscates the rest.
I would not recommend it but, again, scented teas are not my thing.
Flavors: Rhubarb, Strawberry, Sweet
Queued post, written October 19th
I was looking at the All Recent page here on Steepster and suddenly discovered that I fancied some flavoured green tea. I happend to have two satchets of this and so made one for me and one for Husband.
Strawberry and chamomile strikes me as a sort of natural combination of the sort where you think, “why didn’t I think of that???” which is why I bought the two sample satchets in the first place. The green tea base is not even all that important to me here. I want to see if strawberry and chamomile actually play as well together in real life as they do in my head.
Sniffing the satchet before pouring water on tells me that yes, they absolutely do. Aroma-wise anyway. What an ingenious combination! I don’t actually care that much for chamomile on its own, but I’ve come to enjoy it when combined with other flavours. The chamomile with honey and vanilla from Celestial Seasonings, for example, has turned into one of my all time favourite before bed beverages. Right up there with the Sleepytime Vanilla. I’m actually very hard pressed to decide which of the two I like best.
The aroma just when I poured the water on reminded me curiously of watermelon flavoured ice lollies, although the watermelon-y impression was very fleeting. It now smells mostly of strawberries but with a noticable chamomile floral sourness to it. I’m not picking much up in the way of the green base.
I can taste the green tea. I think, actually, that the green tea was responsible for that watermelon-y impression I had briefly when I poured the water on, because I’m getting that again as I sip. Chamomile and strawberry is indeed a very good combination, but I’m not sure it would have worked without the green tea. It’s like the green rounds it all off and stops it from becoming merely a sweet and sour experience.
It’s quite nice. I might get more of it in the future.
Queued post, written August 29th 2014
This one is the very evidence of my greed of purchase when I finally bought tea after having forbidden myself to do so until the box of things not yet tried was empty. I already knew it existed. It has been in the back of my mind since someone, I don’t recall who, shared a peach and thyme flavoured tea with me, so I’ve known for a good eight months now that I would buy it eventually and probably sooner rather than later. So when given the opportunity, I immediately took a caddy. It comes in these wooden caddies that are very attractive looking (see the tea photo), but for actual tea storage when the plastic bag inside is opened, fairly useless. I try not to rip the plastic bag, but if that happens, I have to tin it. I then proceeded to the till with my loot and saw NUTE sample satchets. Without thinking, bought two satchets as well. Of the same tea. And only realised this afterwards.
Well. Yes. As I said, greed.
It smells lovely. Thyme and berry in equal parts. Thyme a little more obvious, though, because it’s a fairly unusual flavour in tea. It’s on a green base, which I imagine will work well with the raspberry. I can’t remember what kind of base the aforementioned peach and thyme tea was on, so I don’t know how the thyme will behave.
Oh, it’s quite thyme-y and with a background of raspberry. There’s a long aftertaste of thyme. The raspberry and the base tea are sort of in the middle of a thyme sandwich. First thyme, then raspberry and green and finally the thyme aftertaste. This may sound like a strange combination, but it’s actually really nice. Really, really nice.
I’m not generally too interested in green tea, because it’s not really substantial enough for me. Thyme has a strong and distinctive flavour, and I find it adds a lot of substance to the green tea. It makes it stronger, if you know what I mean.
I’m glad I got a whole caddy of this.
Queued post, written August 21st 2014
Hurray, I can now start in on my Bad Dog teas. We are pretending that I actually didn’t buy them until just now. In which case I’m totally allowed and not a Bad Dog at all.
Husband was quite keen to try this one, as he had developed a bit of a fascination with all things rhubarb lately. We shall be growing some in the garden. Just imagine that. A rhubarb crumble made with super-fresh rhubarb that grew in your own garden! Gosh, stop me, I’m drooling.
For a long time now I have consequently made flavoured black tea with less than boiling water. I find that if the water is around 90°C or so, as opposed to 100°C, flavourings tend to present themselves better. It always makes me pleased to see when a company recommends less than boiling for a flavoured black. These people say 95°C, but my kettle doesn’t do that, so I chose 90°C instead. To be honest, the temperature in a kettle is never 100% accurate at all times anyway, which is why it amuses me a little when someone is unwilling to accept a kettle that can’t give you 1°C increments. (There was an annoying person on Steepster a few years ago who refused to accept less than one degree increments. She was… well, let’s be honest, I rather considered her my best enemy. Always good for an eyeroll. No need to name names though. Those who knew her may know who I mean. Those who didn’t, well, they don’t really need to, do they?) There will always be +/- one or two degrees to whichever temperature you ask it to make. It really doesn’t matter.
This is also flavoured with strawberry which becomes apparent when tasting the tea. It really tastes more like strawberry than rhubarb. There’s a bit of tartness to it, suggesting rhubarb, but it’s strawberry, mostly.
The base is Assam which… Hmmm… It’s nice, but a bit peculiar in combination with the flavouring. It’s like it clashes a little bit. It’s possible that this might grow on me though, and it’s quite a pleasant tea to drink otherwise, as the rating shows, but it’s not all that it could be. It’s not really rhubarb for crying out loud. Certainly and sadly not my favourite red fruit, favourite strawberry nor favourite rhubarb.
If it does grow on me, I might adjust the rating further upwards. For right now, I’m happy with an 80.
From the queue
We went into town today to spend some gift certificates we got for Christmas on some new cutlery. I’ve been wanting this for when we moved into our house, because the cutlery that we had was all mismatched and lumped together out of at least five different sets. And I don’t know about the stuff that Husband had when we moved in together, but the stuff I had was almost all something I had inherited from my parents when moving away from home. I wanted cutlery that actually matched and that I had had from new. Cutlery doesn’t really wear out, so it doesn’t get replaced naturally unless you make the decision yourself to replace it. It took a little convincing of Husband, but eventually he conceeded my point. I think the last little stretch of convincing wasn’t actually me, but the fact that he saw for himself that it was a little annoying to not be able to set a table for six with matching things. It looks haphazard and like you’re not really making an effort.
Anyway, on our way there we passed a small shop that sold tea, coffee and fancy chocolate. It was actually because they had a sign outside saying they carried AC Perchs teas that we decided to go in and have a look. There were only six or seven ACP teas to choose from, though, and none of them particularly interesting, but they also had several ones of this brand. It’s completely new to me, but apparently it’s a Scandinavian company. The tea is sold in 100g packages which came in a very attractive-looking wooden caddy. I really like wood as a material, I find it very decorative. Even better, they had this one which is a single farm Chinese black from the Hubei province. I think we all know what I’m like with Chinese black, and an interestingly new-to-me one at that!
I dithered a bit, because it was 95kr for one, but in the end I succumbed to temptation, part of which was the tea itself and part of it being caddy-lust. I wanted that caddy. I wanted it!
Turns out, however, that the caddy was also untreated wood on the inside, which meant I wouldn’t be able to wash it when the leaves were used. I had hoped that it might be a metal or just a plastic container clad in wood, but alas. After a lot of thinking, weighing of options and considering the matter, I decided to just pour the tea in and find a different use for the caddy after it was gone, only to have to transfer it to a proper metal tin shortly after when it transpired that the lid didn’t actually seal properly anymore when it wasn’t held in place by the plastic wrapping.
So verdict on the caddy, highly attractive and equally as useless. Out with that, then. I can’t even use it for something else when I can’t put the lid on.
The tea itself seems to be a paradox. At the first sip, it’s suprisingly bitter. Not over-leafed-bitter. Not over-steeped-bitter. It’s bitter because it just is.
But it’s a Chinese black! I hear you protest. Those are never bitter!
I know! And it’s not just the bitterness. It gets worse.
In addition to this seemingly naturally occurring bitterness, it’s really a fairly light flavour. Oh, it’s pretty strong and full-bodied, yes, but it gives me a sort of light and springy-bouncy impression, the sort that is the exact opposite of bitter.
I’m not sure how this is possible. Mutually exclusive flavour profiles in equal measure. Paradox tea. Does that mean the whole tin is in danger of unmaking itself? I had better drink it fast, then.
It does bring to mind something I saw on the discussion boards, though, about how organic teas tended to be more bitter than ordinary teas because of uh… because of Reasons. I can’t even remember who said it either now. Look at me with my source material all in order. :p
As it cools more and I drink more, though, I discover something about that bitterness. The bitter pinch of it slowly fades and it becomes a sort of old wood-y, burnt toast-y kind of coal-y thing. It tastes old. Not old as in ‘these leaves must be several years old!’, but old as in the very concept of age.
At the first sip, with the paradoxical bitterness, I was a little disappointed, because I paid an arm and a leg for this and I had already been thwarted by the attractive-looking but totally useless caddy, but now that I’ve been nursing this cup for a while, I’ve decided that I actually really very much like it. It feels like it would be a good first aid tea. You know, the kind of tea you drink when everything seems to be against you and the world as such can go jump off a cliff. It’s much in the same family as life-giving tea.
I should be surprised if there wasn’t a second steep in this.
Indeed there is. The flavour profile is exactly the same as before, if a smidge milder, in the second steep. Very rarely have I come across teas where it was worth the effort to attempt a third steep when brewing them Western style, but this is one where I definitely feel like it’s worth it to at least give it a go.
It may have cost a small fortune and it may have come with a useless caddy, but I feel I am actually getting value for money with this. It’s a little out of my way to go back to that shop, but I want to try some of the other teas from NUET now, so I’ll probably do it. (I’ll just know not to expect anything from the caddy)