2035 Tasting Notes
Succumbed to temptation (“no-tea-till-the-weather-changes” ban forgotten) when I found this at our local Tuesday Morning store (a.k.a. the place where I never go to buy anything I need, but always walk out with my hands full anyway).
Due to its sweetness, this would be suitable for a party tea with my new crop of fifth grade girls, but it has some grown-up merit, too. It’s a rooibos blend with fruits that aren’t tart, the honey feels thick and satiny, and the hints of ginger show up at the end of each sip, just warming your tongue a bit.
I had never heard of cinnamon basil until my husband brought one plant home from the nursery. We’ve had rainforest weather for several weeks now, and it appears to love the steam. And sure enough, it has a bit of sweetness in with the spicy that evidently earned its name.
So…I clipped a nice, leafy 6-inch sprig from the plant, stuffed it in a jar with an equally leafy spring from our backyard tulsi (also loving this wet heat wave), filled with cool water, and chilled. Result: clean, crisp cinna-lemonosity to wet my whistle with. This may become a fridge standard the remainder of the summer.
First, you have to understand that my definition of chocolatey is “Betty Crocker Fudge Frosting Straight Out of the Can On A Spoon” or “Baskin Robbins Hot Fudge Straight Out of the Dispenser With A Teaspoon of Ice Cream On Top.”
So, now you might understand when I say H&S Chocolate is chocolate-ish rather than chocolately. Good quality, pleasant and smooth with milk, has just turned out not to be my favorite.
But there’s a (gift) tin at my house and it is so miserably hot I will drink anything as long as it is icy. So I threw one bag and three bags of good ol’ Red Rose in a quart jar in the fridge. Not a bad proportion—it just lightened up the strong RR a bit.
I guess that’s the best thing I can say for an unseasonably hot summer…I’m chugging away through the second-string stuff. C’mon, fall!
There’s tired, then there’s VBS tired. The kind of tired from hiking a mile upstairs each way from crafts to rec to music, which has choreography that would wear out a World of Dance contestant, and three more miles in additional back-and-forth trips for restroom escorts and “please, may I have some more to drink?” Oh, and did I mention rec is outside today? It’s going to be 95 with rain forest humidity.
Wouldn’t give it up for the world on a plate.
But, as I will be dragging anchor when I get home, I have a treat in the fridge: steeped a jar of good-quality spring-pickin’s green tea a friend brought home from China. Tossed in 3 fresh cucumber slices (courtesy of my sweet student VBS helper) and and a filter bag of dried honeysuckle; let it chill overnight. My first taste was tasty; I’m sure it’ll be more so with my feet up and my eyes closed and the blinds drawn later today.
(Hoping this is the beginning of a new respect for lowly cucumbers—my childhood memories are still tainted by the smell of Mom’s ice cream tub of cucumbers and onions in vinegar that was perpetually in the fridge three months of the year.)
I think this is just a marketing/packaging update to Lipton’s conventional English breakfast, but I do like the notion of a tea that is daring, even if this isn’t.
Departing coworker left a wrapped box of this on the “pay it forward” table at work; I snagged it for iced tea purposes. (Missouri has had August weather since May.)
But…considering all the ribbing and ripping I have extended to poor ol’ plain black Lipton over the years, I decided to give it legit consideration this morning before I threw ice in it.
This particular blend is less acidic and a little more smooth than I remember the plain black bagged stuff. No particular personality trait stands out. It’s just tea. But some 98-degree days, that’s really all you need.