2005 Tasting Notes
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.
Finally, finally, finally, finally, finally! An autumn day as crisp as broken glass; sky’s Crayola Cerulean Blue; breeze rustling leaves that are starting to show some interest in color.
No other tea would do.
This is a wonderful flavored green tea with maple and walnut pieces the size of your thumb. Smells like Mrs. Butterworth’s syrup, and the taste is not far behind, especially the second steep to which I added some (I think) red clover honey. (Bought a bundle of honey straws last trip to the farm and promptly forgot which ones were which.)
So I’m sure none of you have miscellaneous unidentified baggies and plastic containers littering your desk drawers at work; y’all label everything precisely by name, date, and can identify them by scent, correct?
I am not that disciplined; therefore, when I found this little stash of bags in my office yesterday, I decided to be adventurous and just dunk it.
Took me a while to figure out I was tasting. First random thought that came to mind was “Hickory Chicory Chai” just because it was fun to say—turns out there are actually some teas by that name.
After half a cup, I decided to quit guessing and flipped through my tealog. Now I remember. This does not taste like Hershey bar and mint; the carob base is more reminiscent of coffee (that’s what set off the “chicory” whistle). At any rate, it isn’t bad and definitely did what I sent it out to do—get the eyes open so I’d be awake enough to go home on time :)
I’ve waffled on this one—everything from “I can’t believe it’s so weak for as much as I paid for it” to the more sophisticated “subtle, round, slightly cherry-wood notes once you ponder it.”
Today I’m leaning toward Opinion A. Short night, storms rolling through, many disturbances—-save this one for when you’re awake enough to think about it. I’m not.
One of those disturbances started as an unexpected rattle-rattle-chomp sound coming from the kitchen area—we’ve been battling mice despite two indoor cats and two outdoor part-timers. Upon investigation (thank goodness), the noise was just outside the door—a half-grown possum chowing down on the Rachel Ray cat food that none of my four gluttons would touch. He had a sweet face, but that rat tail does me in every time.
Long time no steep! Don’t you hate how life and unseasonably warm weather mess with your drinking routine?
First, I think this is the correct tea title: I’m not near the packet and I don’t pay attention to product numbers. (Upton has lots of numbers :)
At any rate, this is a wonderful, bready, cocoa-y tea that reminds me greatly of the Assams I love so much. Got three decent steeps out of a pot-sized basket of leaves, one of which was great with milk. Nice mid-range price point; I think next order, I shall have to get more than a little sample packet.
Husband picked me up this tasty little treat when the weather was beastly hot a few weeks ago, so my experience with the first half of the box was all chilled (wonderfully fruity and sweet).
Weather’s shifted a little bit and we’re getting a illicitly luscious sneak of fall-ish temperatures, so I just had my first hot cup. Still wonderfully fruity and sweet, almost cotton candy scented. Very little grassy green in the background, which isn’t a downside for me. Perfect for a late summer feet-up.
Love me my good Assams, so this one piqued my curiosity. Has a very light texture and flavor, but it does have a hint of good ol’ Assam malty breadiness at the end of each sip. Tried it for breakfast and it doesn’t have the eye-opening strength required for my 7 a.m. cuppa, but it will make a very tasty afternooner.
Taught properly, a week of VBS with 4th graders should wear you out—you take part in the wet sponge wars, goalie the crazy-rules soccer games, dispense Band-Aids like candy and learn all the song motions. You could’ve poured what was left of me into a teaspoon after Family Night on Friday. A happy teaspoon, but ohhhhhhhhhh, my aching everything…
Couple that with a 100 degree heat spell and I just needed simple tea all week. COLD simple tea. This wasn’t bad. I wasn’t brave enough to fridge steep it—green teas always go bitter on me when I do—but I made a pot, chilled it, and wet my weary whistle. Smooth. The lemon is complementary, rather than overpowering. Must make more.
Since my first taste of this some years back, my opinion went from “meh” to “hey, this is pretty good” to a near meltdown when I couldn’t find it at Big Lots any more. Recent jackpot! at a Tuesday Morning store. (Danger, Will Robinson. Hide your wallet when you go in. There is always something that you don’t need that you need there.)
I get bananas about fruit tea this time of year, the more so as the temperature rises—it’s 99 outside and going to be the coolest day of the workweek. So a jug of this cooling in the fridge was just what was needed when I got home, footsore and ears ringing from a day of playing with kids (VBS week at church—my little pod of twelve has the personality of six dozen, coupled with music class choreography that could tangle the feet of a “Dancing With the Stars” contestant. It’s gonna be a ride!)
The best part is the subtle cherry that doesn’t have that artificial cough-syrup whang. Even one bag combined with a couple of plain Red Rose teabags in a mason jar makes its presence pleasantly known.