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This cute little tea evokes memories of sipping rose white tea from a 1970’s flask in Norman Lindsay’s NSW garden.

I made a special journey through exceptionally bad storm weather this morning to buy this tea. I like it. I like it very much. It’s like the brother to Marks’ Empress Grey (which I rate highly below), and also features citrus peel as a particularly alluring key ingredient.

Every cup of this marvel leaves me feeling charitable, albeit moderately so.

I like a Lapsang from time to time, but this is not ‘that time’. However, I’m unconcerned as I know ‘that time’ will come around again.

In the interim, I notice my male guests are suddenly partial to the rich, smokey notes of this dark, mysterious tea. And that’s fair enough because it smacks of a nicely rounded machismo that I find tremendously appealing.

This is an all round winner and a staple in my house when I have COMPANY.

I like this tea, but not as much as I did after discovering the Marks & Spencer’s Empress Grey tea.

The lavender twist is pleasant but almost non-existant after the first initial cup. When I drink tea with a floral hint, I want the hint to be present.

Perhaps I’m being unfair. It may be that I’ve been wooed by the Johnny-Come-Lately that is the Empress Grey and that would be fair.

I don’t like jasmine tea. I can’t quite recall how this one made it into my cupboard. My dislike of jasmine is not arbitrary, rather, it is well-placed mistrust of a twice-yearly blossoming plant, which has caused me an unhealthy measure of strife. One year, right out of the blue, I took a sudden allergic reaction to jasmine blossom. It would have been less dramatic if the allergy was concealed to a spot like an elbow or a hip, but it was on my face…all over my face. Swollen, RED and throbbing, my face couldn’t leave the house for four whole days and had to be treated homoeopathically with Pulsatilla. So, why this ghastly plant, albeit in tea form, is in my cupboard in the first place I cannot say. It’s a big ‘no’ from me, I’m afraid.

Yesterday, I went to stock up on M & S’s Winter Spice Tea, only to be confronted by a store stockage deficit. So, I owe my discovery of this delightful, yet gently robust tea to what at first appeared as a lack of good fortune.

I steeped for a solid four minutes, which was enough to ensure a full flavour at a perfect temperature. Upon drinking, I was mesmerised by the addition of citrus, the very note I was seeking in the Winter Spice tea I could not find. The citrus note surprisingly transforms this earl grey base into a surprisingly warm cold weather thirst quencher.

Overall, I’m delighted with this tea and don’t mind admitting to a brief flash of smugness today as I began my third cup.