303 Tasting Notes
I could more or less copy and paste the review I wrote for Lupicia’s Apple & Berry: http://steepster.com/annchen/posts/184943.
It’s just not one of Lupicia’s best, but in all honesty that matters very little. Why? Because Lupicia’s green tea bases are so excellent, they still steep beautifully even when the flavouring is on the bland side. I’m really enjoying this cup, in spite of it being yet another case of berries RSVP-ing but not really showing up for the actual event.
[Purchased at Lupicia in Honolulu, December 2012.]
Preparation
Okay, so this tea is a little worse for wear, as it’s been one of my travel teas – a slowly disintegrating bag of loose leaf I just cram into my carry-on and use for my thermos on flights and in hotels.
It still smells really nice, though, both in the bag and brewed up. The dry tea is mostly generally berryful, but steeped the blueberry becomes very present.
Taste wise, the blueberry remains strong throughout. The lingonberries account for some hints of tartness, but that’s mostly it. I don’t really detect any creaminess or sour notes from the yoghurt – this is mostly just blueberry. I’d like to compare this to an all-blueberry tea at some point, to see how Very Blueberry the leaves can get before it comes off artificial.
It’s good, and sturdy, and simple. Reliable. A travel tea.
[Purchased at Tehörnan in Uppsala, fall 2012.]
Preparation
I finally got around to trying this iced – I dumped the last of the leaf in a pitcher and let it steep in the fridge for about eight or so hours. It’s definitely more flavourful and interesting than the hot tea, and I imagine it would make a really good base for tea drinks and the like.
It’s still on the bland side, though, and yet another reminder of why I go to Teavana for tea paraphernalia and not to buy actual tea. I’ll knock up the rating from 55 to 65, but that’s as good as this gets.
But PWP does acquire some semblance of immortality either way, because this is, in fact, the first tea I’ve finished since I returned to Steepster. Bag empty!
[Purchased at Teavana in Honolulu, January 2013.]
[Polished off in Rome, September 2013.]
Preparation
Another tea I didn’t ‘technically need’, yet another discount I wanted to use before leaving the country. This is a good one, though – I find it really original. It might be all about the carrot – I can’t remember if I’ve ever tried a carrot tea before.
Deconstructing the dry tea is a challenge; as it’s so unlike anything else I have a hard time finding something to compare it to. I think of stables, but not the light summer hay stable scent, but rather stables in winter – pieces of carrot forgotten in pockets, the deep, rich scent of dry grass piled high, molasses, leather that is meticulously cared for, and finally a light booziness – whatever the groom keeps in his pocket flask, I guess.
To me, ‘Miss Saigon’, with its Madame Butterfly pedigree, implies a certain measure of elegance and delicacy that has nothing to do with this tea at all. ‘Miss Saigon’ should be a spring tea, and this is all winter.
Flavour wise, it’s fairly complex and very nice. Sweetcarroty with vegetal notes and some little surprising hints I can’t quite define. With a more elegant green tea base, this would do quite well in competition with the best greens of, say, Mariage Frères.
[Purchased at Bönor & blad in Uppsala, September 2013.]
Preparation
Thé du Hammam, we meet again – I reviewed the rooibos a couple of months back: http://steepster.com/annchen/posts/184694. I am unsure whether or not that’s too high a grade in light of my recent love affair with Mariage Frères and their Rouge Provence, but we’ll see.
The green version smells beautiful; sweet, floral and fruity. In the cup, though, vanilla kicks in, and it’s the patented, creamy Palais des Thés vanilla I enjoy so much… but which for some reason isn’t particularly present in their actual vanilla tea. I really want to like LPdT more than I do, but there are all these little inconsistencies that glare.
This tea is the best of the greens so far, though, and what I wanted their green vanilla to be. In many ways, it’s similar to my long-time Lupicia love Strawberry & Vanilla, but without the lightness Lupicia do so well. This is also quite astringent. (To be fair – if I’d had this before Lupicia’s tea, I probably would have rated this a 90.)
Flavour wise, most of the distinct fruity notes disappear in the cup, there’s more of a mellow fruitness which is quite good, especially rounded off with the thick vanilla aftertaste. For me, the payoff is just that – the lingering, sweet vanilla.
I tend to go for the shorter steeping time/hotter water strategy at the moment due to my current kettle situation (which may change very shortly, fingers crossed that the Italian postal service don’t make me send them my CV and birth certificate and passport photocopies as per their usual routine), but I would really like to try this at 75C/3 minutes to compare.
[Purchased at Le Palais des Thés in Tel Aviv, June 2013.]
Preparation
Haha, yeah – it’s a little off balance, though; like I said in another comment, tea is one of the things I tend to shop for when I do travel (if this were a fridge magnet or a tea mug blog, the results would be similar) so the reviews tend to get a little travelogue-ish. Now I’m going to stay put for a while, however, so the teas will have to come to me.
So my friend had allegedly (the guys at the Selfridge’s location are always so slithery – sweet, but still very very slithery) bought too many sweet, fruity and floral teas, so the sample she got when she asked to try something not on her shopping list was Yuzu Temple.
I steeped this a little hot, which really brought out the peppery notes (I don’t like peppery or chilied teas at all). As it cools down, it gets increasingly perfumey, but it’s surprisingly smooth for a citrus tea. The main body is exactly that – a mouthful of smooth, tart citrus. Not bad at all, but it’s not as light or understated as either of the (potentially hallucinated) teas I mention in this review: http://steepster.com/annchen/posts/184901.
In complete accordance with the Mariage Frères profile, this tea is somewhat eccentric; the tea equivalent of a fur stola-clad grande dame with very fixed ideas, leaving a cloud of citrus perfume behind as she sweeps out of the room.
In terms of citrus, I’m still going to be stocking the brutal and refreshing Kusmi ginger-lemon, but I won’t mind finishing the rest of this sample at all.
[Sample surreptitiously acquired from Mariage Frères in London, August 2013.]
Preparation
I don’t technically ‘need’ this tea, particularly not as I’m moving back to Italy tomorrow morning and plan on bringing every single leaf I own, but hey, I had a discount coupon. (Any excuse is valid when it comes to tea.)
Adding this to the database was a bit more of a challenge than it usually is, seeing as ‘Mareld’, you know that eerie glow of the sea most often encountered (at least by me) in Jules Verne books, closely translates to ‘Milky seas effect’, which makes it sound like the yoghurt is far, far heavier than it is in this one.
Besides, ‘Mareld’ has this wild, poetic nuance to it, suggesting the unpredictability and mystery of nature and the elation and terror of being lost at sea, and… ‘Milky sea’ just doesn’t really do it. I know some people refer to it as sea fire, which is a fairly direct translation from the Swedish, but it doesn’t sound quite right. The scientific term would also work, I guess, but would you really drink a tea called ‘Bioluminescence’?
Well, yeah, of course you would, you tea maniacs. But I (really) digress.
(I think this is another one of those blends from Kahls sold by Tehörnan, as the only place I find any reference to it is on their website.)
In the bag, this is all berry bubblegum. But it’s a natural bubblegum, no matter how contradictory that may seem, and it does has a freshness to it that appeals to me. The scent isn’t very complex, and the simplicity carries through into the cup; this is very much a ‘what you smell is what you get’ tea. This is not as elegant as I would have hoped, and not particularly interesting. Additionally, it gets this vaguely artificial note in the cup that I can’t quite put my finger on, but that I don’t love. This is my usual problem with berry teas – they’re either too tart or too artificial-tasting.
[Purchased at Tehörnan in Uppsala, September 2013.]