I tasted this blend in a nice tea room with a delicious torche aux marrons. (Please don’t assume I’m arrogant because I use French words. I’m actually French. Which, upon reflection, doesn’t help my case. But let’s move on.)
I was given an empty cup and my own teapot to brew my tea myself, which gave me the opportunity to brew it for exactly 3 minutes. What a joy!
Once I was done I poured it and looked at it. The beautiful dark orange colour it had was so mesmerizing that I forgot my pâtisserie and just kept looking at it until it had cooled down enough for me to drink it without burning my tongue.
I smelled the tea before drinking. It evoked a small but cosy English cottage somewhere on a coast, where you’ve been invited for tea by an elderly lady who might be the queen in disguise, you’re not sure. Very nice.
The first sip was accompanied by the immediate thought “wow, this is so subtle!” – because it really was. It felt like I was drinking silk – it kind of melted on my tongue.
The blend had a very pleasant earthy and herbaceous tone to it, which my sister noticed as well when I handed her the cup to taste. The first thing that came to mind was the moss you’d find between the stones of a low wall separating two fields.
To sum up, this is a very calm, subtle and reassuring tea; a tea that comforts you like a wool blanket you’d wrap yourself in on a late evening near the fireplace while the storm is howling outside.
Flavors: Earth, Herbaceous, Wet Moss
