Adagio Custom Blends, Sami Kelsh

delurks in the middle of the night so nobody notices

Um, yes, so I’m still here. Sorta. I’ve been… well, since Miss Rona came around, I’ve been drinking next to no actual tea. In fact, zero is a pretty accurate number if you don’t count K-Cup or Starbucks chai lattes. So imagine my surprise when tonight I had a whim of “hey, I want tea!”

So this is one I bought as part of that leap year order and never reviewed. I’m warning now, I just eyeballed the leaf amount as the little tin it came in isn’t conducive to scooping. So we’ll go with 2 teaspoons to 12 oz of water. I’m certain I overleafed it but, eh, what can you do.

Taste plain is…meh. It’s bitter, which is to be expected. It is an adagio black after all. And the addition of the Tiger Eye doesn’t help until sweetened. So, I added two splendas (my usual for tiger eye)

Much better. I’m getting a nice play of the caramel (and a teeeeny touch of cocoa) off of the Ceylon base. The tea smells similar – like someone took a Mars bar and melted it in a mug of black tea. Actually, I doubt that combo would smell this good. Scratch that. But it’s nice. I must admit, I don’t see what the fruit brings to this? I don’t really taste anything fruity here. Maybe the passion fruit as a late late aftertaste. As in, so late it shows up a full minute after having a sip. It’s really weird, but that’s how it is. Because of this, I really think this would have been better without the passion fruit. That pungent leftover flavor is offputting.

Yeah. The pineapple and passionfruit flavors build at the back of your throat after you swallow and they aren’t the best. They certainly don’t go with the caramel creamy smoothness of the tea itself.

Overall, what do I think? Well, it’s ok.I really wish they hadn’t tried to add fruit to this, and especially not tropical fruit. It doesn’t work well. The primary flavors of the tea – the chocolate, Ceylon, caramel, and cream, are a wonderful match, and I bet if it were more noticeable, the strawberry would fit in there as well. But the tropical fruit is harsh and doesn’t blend with the rich dessert flavors. Maybe it’s a statement on how the Brig himself could often be harsh and unforgiving.

But personally? Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart should have something much smoother.

“Tea! That’s all I needed. A good cup of tea. A superheated infusion of free radicals and tannin. Just the thing for heating the synapses…”

Happy Doctor Who Premiere Day! If you are a geek like me (especially one that takes pride in their geekiness, and I believe I’ve already firmly established that fact… I wrote a veritable tome about some Harry Potter teas not long ago, heh) then today is practically a holiday, after going so damn long with no new Doctor Who. Damn BBC, that’s just torture at that point!

I had a little of this left, so it seems right to sip it down now and send off Twelve (and it seems I’m one of the few strong Capaldi fans out there… serious hearts for that guy). This is an Adagio fandom blend by Sami Kelsh (and kudos to them for making blends for pretty much every Doctor Who character, not just ones from “New Who”… Classic Who doesn’t get near enough love!) that is comprised of Adagio’s Chocolate Chip, Summer Rose, and Lemon Grass teas, and I have to say, while I’ve found plenty of chocolate/rose flavor pairings out there, I’ve never found chocolate, rose, and lemon mixed together. I think the idea was trying to encompass both Twelve’s sweet and sour sides (with a touch of his thorns). The description simply says, “He may not think he does hugs, but let’s face it, he doesn’t get a vote. Dark and unusual, but decidedly endearing.”

This tea actually fits in quite well with my Trick or Treat theme this month, because it smells just like some sort of sweet confection, like something you’d find in a box of chocolates. It has a very… unusual flavor, but not at all unpleasant! The Twelfth Doctor is a complex sort of character, and I think this tea does capture his “sweet” and “sour” sides well. The overall flavor is like one of those lemon-filled chocolate confections, with a very sweet floral aftertaste of rose. And the chocolate-rose flavor itself is quite nice, too.

It isn’t the sort of flavor combination I would have thought to put together, but I enjoy all the base components, so I’m not really surprised at how much I enjoyed it (plus, I enjoy those lemon-filled chocolates and chocolate rose desserts as well, so…) I’m not exactly sure how others might feel about such an odd flavor combination, though. If a little citrus in a cup of sweet chocolately black tea, with just a hint of floral aftertaste sounds pleasant to you, then this quirky Doctor might just be your cup of tea.

Made a cup of this the other night when we watched the Star Wars again. It is still a very good film. But I am very cross to discover that most of the films we’ve purchased on iTunes (and we pretty much only use iTunes these days because we ABSOLUTELY DO NOT HAVE THE SPACE FOR ANY MORE PHYSICAL MEDIA) don’t come with a commentary track! Discovered this when a friend mentioned something that Whedon said on the Ultron commentary, and we don’t have it! Commentary is half the reason I buy films! Why, iTunes, whyyyyyyyyyy

Onwards, to the tea:

This is a tea for when you want a tea that tastes like a very good cup of tea, a welcome break from instant bread and whatever portions you can trade in your day’s haul of scrap for. The fragrance is subtly earthy with a touch of dried autumn leaves, and when brewed, soft and rounded notes of cocoa and minerals are met with sweet hints of stone fruit, starch, and almond, finished with the faintest hum of warm spice. Or maybe it’s the force. Whatever it is, it’s a solid, no-nonsense brew that hints at something very special indeed.

OH MAN.

Pollution is bad, guys. For reals. So last Wednesday, my husband and I flew out to Los Angeles for a long long weekend of dorky social and mayhem. He’d never been to America, let alone LA, and I’d been a fair few times now, but MAN, it is full on. I’d be exhausted regardless, but I’ve never felt the smog quite as much as we did on this trip. I don’t know if it’s my age or it was just really heavy right now, but just being outside and breathing in, you immediately get this hit of something nasty grating against your airways. I’m used to the black snot you get from a day out in London, but this was HARDCORE. The only place worse that I can think of is Beijing. Now that we’re home, it feels like something crawled down my throat and died. Otherwise it was fun, even though my anxiety was in full swing because weather/people/too much everything.

So I kind of didn’t want to caffeinate myself once we got home yesterday, as we flew out Monday afternoon and landed Tuesday morning, and I really wanted to get a good night’s sleep to try and iron out my crumpled circadian rhythms. Had this with lazy takeaway Singapore noodles and catching up on the cooking shows we’ve missed since last week.

This is just sweet and lovely, like sweet strawberry jam sprinkled with lavender. The vanilla gives it a round warmth, and the lavender is fresh and present, but doesn’t steamroll over everything else as lavender sometimes does. I feel like this would be good cold too, but I super needed warmness.

Comfort tea time. Oh man, I am so sick. Currently sitting dizzily at my office debating whether it’s worth sticking it out to the end of the day, or calling it quits to go home and rest. I’m figuring the former, as I’d really rather take tomorrow as a sick day when someone else is in the office, as she’ll be there to cover anything urgent and I won’t be grossing her out being all sweaty and snotty. I wouldn’t be so concerned, were it not for the fact that I’m going away from next Wednesday for like a week, so I feel a certain duty to try not to leave a huge backlog before the plane’s even taken off.

My husband bought one of those BB-8 droids that we can drive around using an app on his phone. It’s ridiculous how much that chubby little droid makes my heart do backflips. Like, I say “who’s a good little droid?” in my puppy-voice, and BB-8’s like “beep beep beep beep!” and nods. BB-8 IS a good little droid.

So obviously I’d be remiss if my massive hoard of tea didn’t include something inspired by BB-8’s sweet personality. It’s a blend of black and fruit teas, with sprinkles and fluffy tufts of raspberry leaf, and it smells like a punnet of fresh sun-ripened raspberries kissed by the faintest sprinkle of cinnamon. It starts with the vanilla, quickly joined by raspberry with a juicy finish. It’s not unlike a raspberry jam sponge with a touch of cinnamon for warmth, or maybe a buttery linzer biscuit. And it’s decaf, so it won’t rattle the nerves of slightly anxious little droids. Or me, when I’m already twitching from the caffeine in the Day Nurse I’m taking to try and retain a semblance of human-ness.

I’m still not over the Star Wars. I don’t know if that’s evident by my, like, having gotten a buttload of Star Wars teas in. This is normal behaviour, isn’t it? I’m also holding out for my friend’s shop getting a backorder of the Pop vinyl figure of helmetless Poe Dameron, and if my finances weren’t utterly decimated for the forseeable future, I’d be tempted by the lego set with little Admiral Ackbar. He’s my favourite! NERDNERDNERD

As it is, I’m presently mainlining tea whilst I binge-listen the Arcade Fire Meets David Bowie EP for an essay I’ve been asked to write for a forthcoming book. There’s a lot of memories in this for me.

But first, tea. There are so many layers to this tea, it’s astounding. The dry leaves yield an intensely nutty, sweet buttery fragrance, with fresh strawberry following. As soon as it begins to brew, the perfume transforms into warm, spiced honey. The flavour is wrapped in luscious, bright strawberry, underscored by creamy, earthy notes of maple and buttery hazelnut, while hints of cinnamon, cardamom, and ginger add lingering warmth to the finish. And to my eternal delight, the coconut doesn’t really flavour it (as it just kills every other flavour for me when it does) but lends an extra creaminess to the texture instead. It’s as beautiful as Poe’s shining, tousled hair, as warm as the light in his eyes when he looks at Finn. Balanced, beautiful, and perfect.

Goodness, what a day. I was so exhausted by this week that I was legit anxious about going 45 minutes up the road to Slough to see some Doctor Who peeps I’ve not hung out with in ages – and so tired that I stuck around for about 2 hours before heading home, and I think we spent a good 45 minutes of that having a coffee at the bar because the crowds were making me squirrely. My social threshold is low these days.

So I wanted something really fundamentally cozy and brown when I came in, and this is one of the most brown teas I know. It’s got a soft roasty earthiness to its fragrance, with a punch and creaminess from the coconut. I also discovered tonight that the best way to serve it is to brew it for like 10 minutes and serve it without accoutrements. It’s cozy, earthy, layered, and those little top notes of fruit just lift it really nicely. And the coconut doesn’t overwhelm, which is forever my concern with coconut. This is good. This weekend is good. Good.

Before I dive into tea examination proper, it needs to be said that my crush on Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall is escalating to a level that may be construed as unseemly.

As for the tea, oh blessums, this is nice. Just like Katarina (whom you may remember from the like 4 episodes of Doctor Who where she was a companion, three of which are missing) this blend is innocent and sweet, and full of kindness and love. The fragrance is redolent of falling leaves, sweet grass, and an abundance of perfectly ripe stone fruit. The peach and apricot lead the flavour, as lovely straight up as it is sweetened with sugar or honey. It tastes like sunshine on a gentle, warm springtime day, which seems somehow oddly fitting for a night when we’ve been told to expect snow. Living further north here in the UK than I was in my home and native land, I kind of understand the collective winter seasonal affective disorder that falls over a country where the sun comes up at like 9 and goes down by 4.

(And then in summer, the humidity renders my asthma and hayfever and eczema so bad that I’m just a sluggish misery guts all the time – there’s about 2 weeks of the year in Oxford where I’m actually at my best!)

I’ve been remiss in doing tasting notes because, well, a combination of holiday excess making me even sleepier than usual, and being away at the in-laws with less wifi than usual and a very small complement of tea I stashed in my suitcase before leaving.

GOSH, I am not looking forward to being back at the office on Monday, but at least I have a few days to chill and pretend to get stuff done, I guess. There’s a novella that’s hanging over my head and shouting WRITE ME! and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so stressed about writing a thing, knowing at some point in the near future an editor I dearly respect will be knocking on my door asking to see a completed draft. AAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa curls up in a ball of sheepish insecurity

So so so so so, this tea. Thematically-linked to the aforementioned novella in ways that will become clear if I write the damn thing, and one of the very tastiest teas I know. It’s got a lovely, gentle warm sweet spice from the cinnamon and aniseed, and the hojicha is roasty and cozy. Always with milk and sugar, because that’s the kind of person I am. So comforting.

I swear to Gosh, the further the release date for Seasons Of War the more nervous I get. My critical works have been widely enough read, and I’ve given talks at conferences and stuff, but the fictional world is a whole other kettle of fish. The kind of fans who actually pay to read stuff that somebody’s written are going to read this thing! curls up into a shaking ball of fear

Fortifying tea is like oddly really good for nervous me. This is probably why I drink so much of it, apart from deliciousness. And since this is a good tea choice if you’re going to find yourself fighting Daleks and stuff for a couple centuries, it’s good enough for me. With its roasty-toasty aroma reminiscent of puffed-grain cereals, it’s wholesome with a subtle touch of sweetness. This flavour, earthy and brown, is warmed with sweet notes of aniseed and a slight undertone of cinnamon. It’s surprisingly light-bodied, a restorative blend that won’t weigh you down when you’ve got a lot to get done, like drinking a lovely Scandinavian crispbread. It has loads of flavour but still light and balanced. Man, that’s good tea.

Ok – full disclosure, as a journalist who sometimes writes about/interviews people about certain tv shows, I sometimes have to watch things ahead of broadcast.

That being said, in spite of this being the case for the latest Doctor Who episode, and having watched it again on Saturday, I AM STILL NOT OKAY AND I KEEP MAKING THESE VERY STRESSED FACES ABOUT IT because like, it was some beautiful writing and acting, and I still think it was a really frustrating way to end this character’s run.

(The tea’s still jolly good, though – and everything this season is best with a good measure of warming cinnamon, so it’s some little solace I guess?)

Why does bread have to make you fat? Life is so dashed unfair.

I made a batch of pogacsa (little Hungarian yeasted scones – I folded some diced cabbage that I’d sauteed with paprika into the dough) on Saturday, and on Sunday my husband made a nice white loaf. So guess who gained THREE BLOODY POUNDS this weekend, having honestly not eaten that much food? It is super not fair.

And and AND I just made the beginnings of a new spelt sourdough starter. I could cry.

But I shan;t, because I don’t think tears goes with dark cocoa-swirled warm orangey cinnamon, and that’s basically what this is tasting like to me. It’s such a very comforting taste, and works well when I want something spicy and warming but not as full-on assault of flavours that you get with some chai. This is more of a tacklehug than a mouth-punch. Good.

jogs a few laps of the empty office corridors to try and burn off some bread calories

I’ve been eating far too much food. Tried to correct this the last couple days with cleansing salads and my very favourite sweet potato and coconut soup (it’s creamy and low-calorie and cooks in nearly moments) and now it’s New Years and I just baked a linzertorte and a cinnamon and cardamom babka to take to a big food party. WHOOPS. Will I ever fit into my wedding dress? Who’s to say?

But Clara is magnificent, isn’t she? The initial fragrance of the dry leaves is BANG! cinnamon, like, cinnamon hearts sweet and hot and intense, with a moment of orange and little finish of chocolate adding complexity. The sweet, warming cinnamon sits firmly at the forefront of the flavour as well, but elevated mid-sip by top notes of bright, sharp orange, and an undercurrent of dark, earthy cocoa lends depth and gravity to the flavour. Wowzers. There’s a lot more to this blend than it may seem at first, and what a fascinating, gorgeous blend it turns out to be.

Also, as someone who now writes about Doctor Who (among other things) in a sort of professional-ish capacity, MAN do some people have an irrational hate for Clara. It makes me sad. I was so grateful they actually gave her things to do and material to work with this past series, but apparently to some people this means that she’s too important. They probably thought she was useless before. eyeroll

OH GOD NO ANYTHING BUT KANDYMAN IT IS THE STUFF OF NIGHTMARES and I’m almost sorry that it’s actually cracking good stuff, for reals. I mean, the tea’s a visual cacophony of myriad bits and sprinkles, but it smells gorgeous, all sweetness and berry candy, with a splash of watermelon to finish. Once it starts to brew, the aroma turns sour, like, mouth-puckeringly tart and tangy sour sweeets, with a liberal dose of sweet-tart lemonheads thrown in for good measure. And it’s definitely tart when it’s brewed up too, but with waves of juicy fruit flavour and a little sweetness. Add sugar and it tastes like melon berry skittles and still smells like lemonheads. And it’s definitely safer than the fondant surprise. And sprinkles.

Seriously, I had panic nightmares at least once after Miwk commissioned me to paint the Kandyman because he scares the living crap out of me. But I persevered in the name of, like, a paid illustration job for publishers I love doing Doctor Who.

In other news, I’m wearing an elastic sort of awkwardly looped on my finger as a placeholder because HE SAID YES, GUYS. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

I’m just going to drink all the comfort tea until everything’s okay, and this is one of the most comforting tastes I know. And also, it’s Doctor Who night. Comforting times.

I just can’t eyebrows like Capaldi, but MAN Twelve tastes like love. The scent comes on strong, with a bold bang of rose, backed by dark chocolate. This carries into the brew, the rose sharpened and brightened with a touch of sweet-tart lemongrass, then rounded by the creaminess of the chocolate. Milk and sugar bring out its hidden cuddly side and bind it all together into something incredibly comforting. It’s at once sophisticated and silly, dark and complicated and perhaps an acquired taste, but oh so worth getting to know. This is making me feel better.

Last day in the office before Crimble! Just trying to plough through as much crap as I can before biffing off for the year – apparently they’re letting us (all 2 of us from my office who bothered to come in this week) leave at 3, but apparently my colleague over on the other side of the building is just going to skip lunch and go at 2, so I think I shall do the same. We’re in blue jeans and tshirts! I feel so free!

And it’s windy as heck outside so today was a day for something warm and smoky. Mmm, fiery apples. Lapsang is so weird, but I do like the way it pairs with the juicy apple. It’s quite a buzzy texture from this one, but I’ve tempered it with milk and it’s a gentle buzz now. And it’s also two minutes past 2 apparently, so I’m chugging the last half of this and buggering off out of here! WOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

gleefully closes spreadsheets and outlook and runs out the door

Guess who picked up a giant box of tea from the post office this morning?

This happy little dork! BEST THURSDAY EVER

It’s like my mouth has gone mad with flavour. The smell and taste of this tea start out strong, with the buzzing, almost manic smoke of the lapsang standing out at the fore as you’d expect, but there’s an earthy backbone running under it, followed by sweet, true apple flavour. In the cup, this translates to a wonderfully textural, juicy finish. It’s dark, bright, calming, and absolutely delicious. I’m always slightly nervous with any blends where lapsang’s involved as it can easily overpower subtler flavours if you use too much of it or with the wrong thing, but the balance here is good. It’s like eating a bumper crop of fresh autumn apples around a campfire on a cool evening. A cunning blend indeed.

This was part of a small adagio order that I made shortly after they began offering sane shipping fees to Canada.

The first tones I get are the cream and almond. The almond is slightly amaretto like and something cherry like. The cream actually has tones that remind me of milk. I think the caramel is there but it kind of supports the other notes with a burnt sugar note.

The base tea is fruity and slightly bitter with malt tones and a hint of coffee like tones. It’s not too bad but tastes a little rough compared to the teas I’ve been drinking lately.

I do really like the flavour though. I love cherry notes in teas, and it melds well with the others.

Does this represent the fifth doctor? I can’t say. I haven’t bothered with cable TV in a long time and I haven’t watched it online. I should though. I really liked Dr Who as a kid when they showed it on TVO. The Dr then had really curly dark hair. I think I may have seen one or two of the new episodes.

Having said that I can see why you enjoy this Sami, and it is well thought out!

My life continues to be a big bowl of scary, and as such I’m drinking tea until I’m not scared any more. It’s impossible to be unhappy while drinking a tea this silly. This is silly, silly tea.

Okay, okay, this tea is meant to be a bit ludicrous, admittedly, but don’t think for a moment that it isn’t also very moreish. The real question ought to be ‘how many cups of Nimon blend tea can you drink in one sitting?’ and the answer is loads of them. The tea smells like a luscious chocolate liqueur, with masses of depth and sweetness. It brews beautifully into a soft, sweet blend, the background vanilla and almond notes adding layers of complexity to the chocolate. It’s lovely with a bit of milk and sugar, and I love it as much as Soldeed loves his Nimon friend. And the rooibos is flavoured in such a way that it harmonises with the other flavours and isn’t super-strong, which is always a bonus because rooibos as a thing in itself isn’t really my scene. The Nimon be praised!

ALSO, AND THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT: The last time I drank this tea, I spilled a 20-ounce cup of it on the shorts of a prominent children’s author who shall, for the protection of his shorts, not be named, while we were having an afternoon by a hotel pool on a sunny day in Los Angeles. It was hilarious and great.

The thing about the 5:2 diet is that it turns out a month’s worth of the funless chore that is basically starving yourself 2 days out of the week (even if I am managing to pull together some positively delicious 250-calorie meals at dinnertime) is pretty much wholly undone of one week of going on holiday and having to actually eat breakfast, which you never normally do. Not to mention the availability of cream tea ABSOLUTELY EVERYWHERE in British holiday destinations. Pure torture, and I’ve gained back all the weight I managed to lose by having nothing but a bit of fruit all day and a bowl of soup at night and generally feeling all kinds of grumpy and sleepy as a result. Boo-urns. I think my newfound fatness was simply meant to be, and I ought to just bin my 2-sizes-too-small, they-fit-this-time-last-year jeans and stuff. brb sobbing

So, as today’s a fast day, I’m trying to drink teas I don’t need to add milk or anything to, and mint and green teas tend to fit that bill well. This one’s a good candidate for drinking as is, as it’s refreshing and lightly fruity, but has a little substance to back it up, thanks to the scattering of gunpowder pellets throughout. Good.

On an entirely unrelated note, I’m rather hoping to send some of my surplus teas to a good home, simply because I haven’t the space to house them all in my poor little kitchen! They’re the ones that I still think are scrummy, but just don’t seem to reach for as often as others, and would rather see them get the love they deserve elsewhere. If I were to get my butt together and post a list, does anybody reckon there might be some interest?

In spite of the constant threat of rain (and the occasional drizzle) it remains hot and humid as balls here in Oxford, and I am a sweaty mess every time I step out of the safety of the house for more than a few minutes. GROSS, for reals. So, given that it can only get grosser as summer looms like a hulking, sweat-dripping beast over the south of England, I’m icing the living heck out of my lighter, fruitier, most refreshingly herbal teas. Ice Warriors is a glaringly obvious candidate, no?

I feel I can say with confidence that if Ice Warriors drank tea, this is the tea they would drink. I am met with a cool blast of peppermint on opening the bag, with a hint of sharp citrus following. And in spite of its largely green (gunpowder and mint) composition, the blend brews up a deep, menacing shade of red The combination of tastes and aromas wakes up your whole mouth: peppermint cools the top of the palette like a smooth, sibilant vapour, flanked by whispers of tart hibiscus, then a lingering dark green, lightly smoky astringency that intensifies when served cold. A refreshingly gorgeous tea. (I had to try so hard to resist typing all my letter s words like thisssss, because Ice Warriorsssss. Dork.)

I’m posting less frequently than I ought to be largely because I AM ATTEMPTING TO MOVE TO OXFORD and man, it is stressful. I mean, I’m IN Oxford, but most of my stuff is still up in Manchester, and I have to end my lease up there and get into a place here and it’s so stressful aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa tries not to cry But hey, I’m waking up at 5 in the morning to make bagels all day, so it could be worse. I’ve got a massive backlog of teas to note, so will attempt to, like, get back to posting normal, I promise.

But first, Iris, which is decidedly not normal at all. She’s a pretty ridiculous blend, actually. Even without the sprinkles, the colours of this tea are joyous: the leaves are a rainbow of orange and red and green and pink and blue, and a myriad of shapes and sizes. And then, to top it all off, RAINBOW SPRINKLES. The fragrance hits you as loudly as the colours do, a sharp and bold hit of citrus and pine: stick with it a moment longer, and notes of aniseed and rose waltz in with all the air of your tipsy auntie. When brewed, it’s as good dry as it is sweet, so take it as you’d take your gin. Sugar brings out the subtle aniseed notes that follow the bergamot that anchors the blend, while whispers of rose lend a soft roundness to the blend’s lively mouthfeel. It tastes like a crisp, complex mix of botanicals that positively demands to be made into a cocktail. I like to think that dear Auntie Iris would most definitely approve.

This was a tough day, this day, but I survived. I had a job interview this morning, and it seemed to go well, but it became clear not far into the interview that I am super not suited to this job at all, and while the staff there were really sweet and nice people, there’s no way I could do that job. As evidenced by the hour of shop-floor trial run they had me do, wherein I was very politely told off for attempting to help a customer slightly further than I was technically qualified to do. A valid point, to be sure, but asking me to interact with the customers while not actually allowing me to do anything other than say hello and ask if they need help – when I can’t actually help them myself – seems a bit pointless. Just means an hour’s worth of customers had to repeat their questions to two different shop assistants. I think they could tell I was feeling a bit not okay with it. As evidenced by the fact that I was meant to get a call by the end of the day to schedule a second interview, and I haven’t heard back from them. I don’t think I will. It’s a relief, to be honest. Gosh knows I need the money, but still. It would have been a BAD job for me.

To that end, major comfort tea is needed tonight.

This is one of those comfort teas I could drink forever and ever and never tire of. The sprinkles in the mix poke out here and there, providing little moments of colourful joy. The tea leaves themselves smell just like a chocolate orange. It tastes like a chocolate orange too, but so much more than that: the rich flavours are softened in brewing, flanked by complex, earthy background notes, soft tannins, and a subtly creamy texture that is brought out further with a little sugar and milk. A highly agreeable, comforting full-bodied tea, where all flavours sit in perfect balance. I’d rate it as a good choice as well for folks who want a Doctor Who fandom blend, but aren’t fond of Adagio’s black base, as the Mambo tea that forms the backbone of this blend is a VERY different beast to the standard Ceylon, and itself has prominent smooth cocoa and slightly peachy notes that are brought out and heightened here. A fitting tribute to an underrated, yet decidedly awesome Doctor.