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This one is really growing on me. Enough real apple bits for the fruit to stand out nicely, though I’m still trying to land on exactly what apple variety. The rooibos in the background is a reasonable substitute for pie crust. While something in the air is making me yearn for Big R’s Barbecue two-crust apple pie (a local eatery as famous for its dessert and curly fries as for the meat), this beats the craving into submission, at least temporarily.

I’ve kept boxes of Roastaroma around for so long, I guess it’s become a cupboard staple without my realizing it. Down to three bags, but I’m glad to have them this evening. It’s downright nippy outside. Frost advisories tonight. I brought in the last of the Juliet tomatoes and a few scrawny but viable banana peppers. They had a good run.

You influencers have spoiled me by introducing me to Teeccino to meet my un-coffee needs, but truthfully, this is just as satisfactory. None of the spices come on obnoxiously strong, and the chicory/carob sticks nicely to the palate and to your ribs.

When you envision gingerbread, do you think chewy cookie, soft cake, or crunchy cookie? I usually go chewy, unless there’s a fruity element, then it’s cake.

So the addition of orange peel to this blend has me craving gingerbread quick bread baked in a loaf plan with glaze. The ginger’s not too sharp, and the anise (not a favorite with me) isn’t obnoxious. It’s very drinkable on its own—my tumbler’s empty already—and I bet a little milk or sweet vanilla creamer would be lovely.

I know there’s a pretty hefty anti-roo contingent out there, but I’ve always liked it. (rocking chair creaks…or maybe my knees) Why, I remember back in the day, the only rooibos you could find was just unflavored…and we drank it while walking uphill six miles on the way back from the tea shop…

So when folks started adding flavors, I thought that was pretty uptown. My favorite blend-ins were (and are) ice creamy flavors—chocolate, vanilla, and the like. So pecan makes sense, flavor-wise. The marked absence of actual pecans from this blend does not make sense, but it’s a fair replica, scent-wise. It’s more fruity than it is nutty, but I’m thinking the addition of some milk might “pie” it up a little. Plenty left in the pouch to play with.

High time I finished off the remaining bags. Dawdling isn’t helping them out any. However, on a whim, I tossed in a bit of half and half. Smooths out the ginger, which comes on far stronger than the maple, and makes it taste a little like a graham cracker. Most of you have landed on your favorite maple or ginger option for the season, but for an inexpensive option, this is OK.

It happens about every year at my house: a shift from tear-your-hair-out-frantic work pace (school is underway and things normalize a bit) to oh-my-how-will-it-all-get-done personal schedule pace. Thus, as soon as I sign off here, I am going to sip this homey little decaf and calm myself with the repetitive motion of a crochet hook.

I’ve been through about half the box—had to take a long hot-weather furlough; it’s been ages since sipping something hot felt good—and it’s grown on me. Certainly a nice change from chamomile and mint tisanes. The lemon and nutmeg outweigh any vanilla flavor, but I could tip the balance with a little vanilla syrup. I’ll try that some night. But not now. I’m beat. Rest well.

Wow. This oolong sample has overcome old age, sloppy storage, and ham-handed western steeping in a bag with an office kettle, and still shines. Roasty, toasty, with a classy hint of spice. I should save the rest to drink properly, outdoors, watching some leaves fall.

From the “Oh, I Forgot I Had That!” files.

Somehow I missed having to read “The Picture of Dorian Gray” in any of my high school or college literature classes. However, Victorian London is my happy literary place, and the puerh/green tea combo does capture the dank backstreets or the East End docks. It’s a very savory profile, even with the ginger and cornflower, but not an unpleasant one. No bergamot—the Gray reference is strictly Oscar Fingal O’Flahertie Wills Wilde.

A real sipdown. I dumped all of the remaining packet into the cup, which means about 20% more than recommended, and got the best steep of the whole sample. A nice juicy citrus vibe without being too tart; beautiful ruby red color in the cup.

I see that it’s no longer on the Teamaze website. Seems to me that teas that take tons of leaf to get noticed just don’t sell well, especially when they’re pricey to begin with.

Thoughtful gift from a work friend…I’ve been waiting until I had 10 full minutes to steep it. You’ve probably tasted an herbal mélange similar to this one—big hunks of apple and beetroot and other chunky, chewable goodies. There’s enough cinnamon in this rendition to accurately clone the scent of carnival candy apples, but the flavor lags behind just a little bit. It could still use a bit more apple, but it’s certainly not hindering the pleasure of having feet up after a busy day with my nose buried in the cup.