Anna Send Message

So I now have my new variable temperature kettle from Bosch to play with. (I finally found the one I wanted through an Italian vendor, so I didn’t have to produce any sort of documents at all to resolve the hostage situation that generally ensues when I receive a suspicious package from a foreign country.)

The Palais des Thés teas are among the greens I’ve been particularly curious about reevaluating. I’m very much against oversteeping greens, so I generally go for 1.5 minutes and boiling, or near-boiling water, as per the usual Lupicia instructions; I’ve found it works well for most flavoured greens, but some of the more delicate ones do deserve a somewhat lighter touch.

This is not one that really benefits from a longer steep at a lower temperature, however; the base still comes off fairly average, the vanilla still doesn’t pop. And still the utter weirdness of a melty caramel nose that’s entirely elusive in the cup.

Maybe if I very surreptitiously drop some kind of toffee bon-bon in and let it dissolve? Or is that cheating?

Oh! Oh! Oh! So I cold-steeped the last of this. Unholy artificial citrus horror would sum it up quite well.

I’m dropping this from an indifferent 55 to a near-objectionable 30 for the sheer offensiveness that is Rooibos Tropica iced. Why not lower? Because paired with these citrusy, almondy cantucci I’m having, it’s beautiful. My palate is very confused at the moment.

Now the only things in my tea cupboard bearing Teavana’s logo are my cherished travel thermoses and tins – just as it should be.

[Purchased at Teavana in Honolulu, January 2013.]
[Polished off in Rome, September 2013.]

So yesterday, when I said I was going to make another pitcher, I did make another pitcher.

And now I find myself having to make yet another pitcher, because this is so very good it seems to just evaporate all on its own.

Sorry about the utter lack of variety in tasting notes at the moment, but the few teas I have yet to review are all problematic in their own way, so I’m procrastinating.

(Also this is just so very good.)

This time around, I cold-steeped this, as opposed to cooling a hot-steeped tea. There’s definitely a difference, and for the better – it tastes clearer and lighter, and even the most delicate flavours seem crisper, more well-defined.

Now this might be typical for cold-steeping versus cooling a hot-brewed tea of this kind, but I haven’t experimented with that much at all before, so I’m excited about these highly scientific findings.

Really, really good. I’m making another pitcher.

So this, like Safari from the same company, was a tea I got for a friend, but as everything didn’t fit into the little travel kit I put together for her, I got stuck with some to try out for myself. (I am so unfortunate. Suffering. Really.)

I was looking for the black equivalent of the green champagne tea from Tehörnan, and this is what was recommended.

The tea is pretty light and floral in terms of both scent and taste, with that undeniable and yet undefinable lingering note present in all the champagne teas I’ve reviewed so far. To be honest, I find it has very little to do with any form of champagne or sparkling wine at all. It entirely lacks any of the complex exuberance – yeasty, sulphuric or otherwise – I associate with champagne, and there’s not the slightest hint of a boozy note anywhere. So when I get excited about a ‘champagne’ tea, it’s really just because I’m so hooked on that undeniable/undefinable nuance.

That nuance, however, works best in the green tea, very well in the rooibos, and not so well in the black. I expect so much more from a black tea – it can carry so many more nuances of flavor and hints of texture than a green (or even a rooibos). In addition, I often find drinking black teas somewhat challenging because of their richness, so they really have to be worth the effort. This one is not – it’s a black tea masquerading as a much lighter tea, rendering itself redundant in the process.

[Purchased at Bönor & blad in Uppsala, August 2013.]

I brewed this a little hotter than usual. This kicked the fruity notes down a notch, but really brought out the oolong base, which is ridiculously good. And it re-steeps so well.

In my last review I reminded myself to try this cold. I hereby re-remind myself; I just have to finish the huge pitcher of White Temple tea I made this morning.

I still stand by everything I wrote in my last tasting note for this tea, but as I have had so many quite exceptional greens lately, I feel inclined to drop my rating by five points (Quelle insolence!).

I want to cold brew something today, though – if it’s this one I drop into the pitcher before I go take my tram walk with M. (It’s drizzly, so we might as well take the 3 down to Trastevere, cutting right through the city without getting our feet wet.) it just might get its five points back if it’s very lovely.

…and another steep and re-steep. I want to court this tea and love it very tenderly. Forever.

Steeped, and re-steeped. It just gets better.

The dry tea is pretty enough, flush with petals. Scent wise, a slightly chemical citrus dominates.

Brewed, it smells a bit like citrus caramel, which makes me realize I’d really like to try a lemon caramel/lemon fudge tea in addition to all these more obvious lemon-ginger and lemon meringue combinations.

In terms of taste, it’s just a bland, non-descript vaguely floral/lemony rooibos. Not cardboardy at all, but with that hint of artificial flavouring Teavana (unfortunately) seem to have specialized in.

[Purchased at Teavana in Honolulu, January 2013.]