10 Tasting Notes
If they could bottle the fragrance of the dried tea leaves, I’d wear it forever. The tea itself is pretty awesome, mellow and delicious. The taste of green tea is less pronounced, so it depends on whether you like that or not (I prefer my teas a little assertive). The description given by TWG fits this brew well.
Wow there’s a lot of haters for this one. I liked it a lot, but then, I nurse a violent passion for citrus fruit. It’s violent in that I abhor orange-flavoured anything because they don’t taste like oranges etc. But this tea tasted like an orange should, except for the strange unnatural sweetness. Still, the label should have been warning enough. Caveat emptor
Visually the tea is stunning, absolutely orange. I have never seen potable fluid this shade of clear orange. I don’t see the point behind adding all this other peripheral stuff like spearmint into the blend because I cannot taste it behind CITRUS and maybe just a little bit of rosehip. It smells great. I imagine it might be very popular in times of cold, flu, sinusitis.
I drank this in accompaniment with a piece of chocolate fudge cake, and that was a great decision.
There is a distinct flavour very much like Linden.
I basically drink chrysanthemum tea (tisane, I know, but that’s the common term) all the time, only I can’t review them since there’s no tea company I’m getting them from. Marigold flowers and their petals just look like those of chrysanthemums, and it’s hard to dissociate from the sensory expectation of chrysanthemum when I look at it. Even the hawthorn berries look like dried jujubes. The tea is like a reimagining of a Chinese classic “cooling” drink.
The tea is a golden yellow, very pretty. The smell is very subtle, mostly like Linden tea, with a bit of bitter fragrance that comes from petals of the Asteraceae. As for the taste, well, I didn’t like it. I also don’t like Linden tea, which is why this tea was a major disappointment. I couldn’t taste the hawthorn.
Incidentally, I didn’t strain the tea as well as I should, because chewing on the petals is fun. Marigold petals are waxier and more robust than chrysanthemums, but less flavourful.
From my second last tasting note, you’d know that I have appalling habits when it comes to how I steep my teas. Not so for this tea. I followed their instructions (warmed teapot, boiling water, 10 minutes) to the letter. And I am glad I did so.
I cannot conceive how cardamon and rosemary can work so well together in a tisane. This tea is tangy, a little bit spicy, and so fragrant and refreshing. I did think that the name “Happiness Tea” verged on hyperbole but I take that back, and now I am just impatient to try the other teas (with a name like “Inspiration Tea”, how can it go wrong?) from Tea & Philosophy. They even have an adorable URL: http://todaywasfun.com/
I must confess that I have a weakness for hibiscus teas because of the intense colour, and this has become my new favourite in a big way. Sorry about that, Tazo Passion.
Every time I write a tasting note I’m also writing about something else. Trà atisô translates to Vietnamese artichoke tea.
The tea is smoky and salty, and doesn’t taste like artichoke, although the taste rapidly goes away in the second and third cups. The smell is evocative of heated salt and bamboo charcoal. This tisane is definitely not astringent like C. sinensis tea, almost silky. Actually, it tastes and smells almost exactly like a boiled concoction of fresh Monstera sp. (?) leaves that my grandmother used to make. I know the fruit of Monstera deliciosa is eaten but there’s nothing on the leaves.
Incidentally, if anyone knows what species that is, please let me know.
I don’t know what everyone else does with their tea leaves/bag after they’re done preparing tea, but I generally leave mine in all the way. I can’t be bothered to use a strainer.
Strangely this cup doesn’t taste different no matter how long the bag steeps, which is nice. I wanted to call it “mellow” initially (how ironic, given the lemongrass), but it’s not. It’s…rounded, let’s say, and while the lemongrass is distinct, it’s not sharp at all. Once the temperature’s almost lukewarm, there is an added smell/taste of honey.
This tea is the opposite of those which force your attention upon them with every sip, no matter what you’re doing.
You leave loose leafs floating in the cup? I’d think it’d not only get way over steeped, it’d be chunky to drink. How do additional infusions work w/ this method?
Yeah I do. I grew up with two ways of drinking tea, one with company (time to break out the good stuff, earthenware teapot and tiny tiny cups), and one when you’re alone and don’t care. With most teas, the leaves fall to the base once they’re fully steeped, and whatever’s still floating I chew on if I happen to drink them. Additional infusions = adding more hot water to the damp leaves in the porcelain mug.
Surprisingly decent for tea that’s canned. It makes a refreshing change from the horrid sweetened and flavoured pseudogreen teas that I buy in a hurry because I have no cups nor hot water where I’m going.
I think it’s because oolong is inherently robust in taste- doesn’t matter what temperature you drink it at, the flavour is always going to be distinctive. Also, it conveniently eliminates having to watch the pot like a hawk in case of oversteeping (which pushes it into tasting like peat swamp).