After a furlough of several years, Oliver Pluff came to our house yesterday, courtesy of thoughtful husband and our 37th anniversary. Oliver tells me that 15 cases of this lovely Congou were pitched overboard at the Boston Tea Party. Independence is a laudable goal, but oh, what a waste!
The first couple of sips after a four minute steep worried me—even though it was a beautiful roasted mahogany color, I wasn’t getting anything but “just tea.” But allowed to rest for a few minutes, the flavor caught up with the appearance: deep, autumn-fruity, black cherry. You know those old museum-quality still life paintings with urns of fruit against a dark background? This tastes like what those look like.