Mariage Frères

Ever the rebel, I’m defying convention by having this morning tea in the evening! I actually bought this because I was on a nostalgia kick and looking for something to stand in for a taste like Constant Comment, unavailable here.

This isn’t that, but it does have a strong citrusy taste, and a slight dessert flavor playing hide and seek under the zing. For me it’s a bit too acidic, and I might like it better with a little more assertive caramel or creamy note to offset the citrus a bit. It’s quite nice with milk, though, and I will enjoy the rest of the tin, but probably won’t repurchase.

Had this lovely stuff this morning, sweet and strong with milk. Though I love to snack on almonds, it’s not really my favorite flavor for desserts or beverages — nevertheless this is really gorgeous and yummy when I’m in the mood. The weather hasn’t been cooperating with the whole chilly “festive season” thing, so some of the more wintery holiday tea options didn’t strike my fancy and this was a nice alternative, just a wee bit spicy and smoothly cheering, without a jarring jingle bell vibe.

I bought this from Mariage Frerès, but since they are always so weirdly coy with their descriptions, I’ll quote The Cultured Cup: “Cocada de Colombia, our newest tea from Mariage Frères, is an organic Colombian black tea flavored with toasted coconut. This tea is named after Cocada, the traditional coconut candy found in many parts of Latin America” … “A dark-colored, medium bodied tea generously sprinkled with toasted coconut” … “A creamy flavored tea with a suggestion of coconut sweetness” … “Instead of adding milk to this tea, consider adding coconut milk. It will greater enhance the tea’s delightful tropical flavor, as well as its natural creaminess.”

So. Yes. I do love coconut, though I sort of feel like it’s the embarrassing boyfriend of flavorings. Blame Thai food! Before I had Thai food, I never liked coconut, and now I’m all heart-eyes emoji. However! I’m still not down for sickly candy sweet coconut flavors! I think this one is handled quite well, a nice, light, “bright” lightly coconut-perfumed tea that feels very warming, cozy and refined to me — definitely not WOO PIÑA COLADA TEA PARTY TIME Y’ALL at all. :P

I’m experimenting with amounts and steeping time. For this, I used almost 4 grams to 300 ml water at about 95C, steeped for maybe 2.5 minutes.

Sipdown no. 125 of 2018 (no. 481 total).

This poor tea ended up at the bottom of the ratings in the cupboard, even though it is a really good tea and I could have continued drinking it happily for a while.

I feel a little sorry for it. Because it was at the bottom of the ratings, it ended up getting put at the front of the iced tea queue. There wasn’t enough to make an entire pitcher, so I filled up the other half with Upton Scottish (Breakfast) Blend.

I am sure I have other teas that I’ve rated higher that I like less, so the reason I feel sorry for this tea is probably because I feel guilty for being unfair to it. But hey, when you’ve been writing notes over eight years and your tastes change, what can you do?

After doing a rough count of my as yet untasted and unwritten about black teas, which I must now revise, I did a similar count of greens.

I have 24 untasted green teas according to my cupboard. Of those, 11 are matcha.

I’ve been taking matcha to work lately. I was scared of doing that at first, but then my BFF the internet showed me the way: I’m using the shake in the thermos method and it works just fine for a quick method in the morning.

The first time I tried it, it didn’t work so well. I used water that was too hot, and I didn’t shake long enough. The tea tasted ok, but the were a lot of undissolved matcha grains at the bottom and I got a mouth full of them in my last sip.

Here’s what I’ve found works:

1 matcha spoon (the bamboo ones) per 4 oz water. My timolino holds 12 oz, so that’s 3 spoons.

12 oz water heated to 175.

Spoon matcha into timolino, then add water, close lid and shake. I shake 100 times. Et voila.

But I digress. Actually, this was a digression to a digression. Let’s get back to the most recent point of divergence: the green teas in my cupboard.

I will say there are a couple of those that I don’t think I’ve seen in a while, so I could have failed to remove some teas in which case I’d have even fewer. But for now, I’m leaving the cupboard as is.

Now, stepping laterally into another digression: revised count of untasted, un-written about black teas (NOT including this tea): 13

And finally, back to the topic at hand. This tea.

This is a “tea of the holidays” so I’m having it over Veterans Day weekend. It has a citrus-floral smell in the packet.

After steeping it’s less citrusy and floral in aroma. It smells a little malty, with a caramel note. I know I used the word chestnut to describe a tea’s color already today, but I can’t think of a better one for this. It’s that color they use to describe brown horses that has a tinge of orange to it.

I think the caramel note is vanilla, somewhere on the continuum between chocolate and vanilla. I’m now thinking that caramel is on that continuum somewhere between the two.

The flavor is much milder than I expected. I expected a dominant citrus, but that’s not the case. The citrus is very gently represented in the blend, almost totally in the background.

Which makes it rather difficult to find something about this tea that makes it special. It’s obviously high quality and tastes just fine. It’s just a bit plain for what I’m wanting when I decide to drink a flavored black tea.

Jasmine green, a perpetual favorite of mine if done right.

Done right to me means:

1. The jasmine smells and tastes like the essence of flowers rather than a flavoring agent.
2. The jasmine is integrated into the tea, rather than smelling and tasting pasted on.
3. The tea base is both a great delivery vehicle for the jasmine and not completely overpowered by it to the point where it disappears.
4. Extra points for juicy, flowery goodness.

This tea, which is a vibrant, clear golden color after steeping gets high marks on the first three. The underlying tea contributes a soft, buttery aspect to the tea.

It could be juicier. But 3 out of 4 ain’t bad.

Catching up on my TV watching this morning. Kids’ piano recitals this afternoon.

And I voted yesterday so I don’t have to think about how to work it in on Tuesday.

The tea smells very lemony in the tin. Tart, with some other spices in the mix though I can’t tease out individual smells.

After steeping, the tea is a medium gold color, with suspended particles in it and smells like a less tart version of the dry leaf smell.

Lemon is definitely the main flavor here, and it’s a nice one. It’s not sweet, but it is neither bitter nor too tart. Whatever other spice (clove?) might be in the mix gives it a sort of sultry flavor, which keeps it from being too perky.

It’s a very nice lemon flavored green tea. I’m trying to remember whether I’ve tasted others of this type and I’m not remembering, though it seems very likely. It’s times like these I would love a meaningful way to search my own notes.

Hmm…

I’m just not a fan of this. The base tea is fine, but the flavoring is just too… something. It’s very candylike cherry, almost medicinal like a lozenge. It has a powdery sweet floral quality as well.

This tea is a few years old, so normally I would potentially toss the remainder. But the flavor still seems potent, and being a Mariage Frères tea, which are a bit of a pain to get here in the US, I think I’ll keep it around in my swap box where hopefully it can eventually make its way to someone who will enjoy it more.

Home – 9:00 PM

To be honest, I’m not sure why I bought this tea. This is one of three Mariage Frères teas that I purchased in France, and this one is a strange choice for me since I’m not big on florals. I do like sakura in green teas, however. The dry scent is super strong and sweet cherry, and smells very candylike.

Luckily, the steeped tea is much milder. I am enjoying it, thankfully. I can taste the white tea base, and it’s soft and a bit creamy with hay and oat notes. There is definitely some cherry candy flavor, but it’s not overly sweet or strong. I can also taste sakura, which is a nice complement since, to me, it’s almost a savory floral rather than sweet.

Overall, this is actually somewhat subtle and quite tasty. Plus the tin is completely gorgeous, so that always helps! ;)

Sipdown no. 16 of 2023 (no. 674 total).

Too smoky for a take it to work tea, so I just did it as a weekend tea.

I think if I were to start tasting now with my evolved preferences, I’d eschew smoky teas for the most part. Not only do I worry about stomach cancer, I just can’t take them anymore except in small doses.

This one isn’t overly smoky. It doesn’t have that tarry thing, and it has a mellow sweetness under it. If I was going to have a smoky tea in the mix, it would be something like this. Just not sure I really need one where my head is at these days.

Continuing with the project to get through all the teas in my cupboard and write a note about them, I am almost to the end of 15 out of 21 cupboard pages. w00t! And even more yay because until this morning, I had 22 cupboard pages. But with a spidown I cleared out that pesky page with only one tea on it. So there.

And I’m not fully neglecting my samples either, those little packets that don’t get a place in the cupboard but still take up space in tea world.

Even with all that, I don’t feel like I’m making a terrific dent in my supply here. Sigh. All I know is I haven’t bought any tea since I replenished my (gone) herbal/fruit blend stash months ago. So where they come from I have no idea.

This one is quite smoky in the tin. A woody smoke, like the remains of a wood fire in the fireplace. Charred wood, but not ash, which is fortunate. Not much resin, and no meaty-bacony smell either. Also fortunate.

After steeping, the smoky aroma spreads out and mellows some. It’s still there, but it’s more subtle. Not so much at the center of things as the edges. The color is very pretty, dark reddish-amber.

The tea has sweetness to it, and the flavor isn’t overly smoky though there’s a hint. It’s surprisingly smooth and gentle on the stomach. I would call it a medium-bodied to light bodied-tea. The mouthfeel is smooth and soft.

It’s enjoyable, for when you want a hint of smoke but lapsang is too much. It’s at least as good as I remember the Mariage Freres Lapsang being, though different. Rating accordingly.

Sipdown no 4. of 2023 (no. 662 total).

Somehow, the caramel and chocolate which I loved back when I wrote the original note wasn’t doing it so much for me when I had the last few cups of this. It could be age of the tea, it could be tastebud changes, it could be mood, it could be that the flavors settled somehow so they were stronger at the bottom of the tin. But this was bordering on too heavy for me and that’s a rare thing with Mariage Freres, which I usually praise for its subtlety and je ne sais quoi. It was drinkable, just felt heavy in the mouth and stomach. Note to self, if you ever get this one again, drink it down while it’s fresh.

Very wonderful caramel smell in the tin, with some cocoa and even vanilla notes. The steeped tea is dark brown-burgandy color and smells like caramel candy with a malty Assam note.

The flavor isn’t as sweet as I would have anticipated from the aroma, but it’s not bitter or sour either. It’s a little on the stout side, full bodied, hearty (some might say heavy) as Assams can be.

I ate breakfast before having this but I suspect if I hadn’t, it might have sat less than calmly on the stomach. Still, it’s got great flavor and is well-blended, a great example of “that French thing” I find so hard to explain.

No. 2 loved it, too.

A rather gloomy, chilly day today, whose grey countenance was not uplifted when I looked out and noticed my summer basil dying (not unexpectedly), and then found I was at the bottom of my tin of MF French Breakfast Tea. Not a crisis, since I have some beautiful teas in my “pantry” (I WISH I had a real pantry), but I won’t be able to order from Mariage Frères for some while, so I will be missing my lovely, soothing, uplifting companion for all those times when I want something of substance, but not too loud, something suave, but not too subtle, something tastefully deluxe yet cozy, warm and comfortable … My old friend for all seasons, French Breakfast.

Some teas you want for their ability to perform, entertain, or teach … they take you on a journey, unlock secrets, shake you out of your rut, surprise you, challenge you, carry you to a time and place, or create new worlds. This isn’t that tea. This is slipping into your softest, best-loved t-shirt or jammies and cracking open a long-awaited new book by a favorite author, or being on the receiving end of a warm, bracing hug before going out to face the world. Whatever you’re doing? It’s there for you. And will be waiting for you when you return.

Not rating because it’s my introduction to rooibos, so I don’t really even have a baseline for comparison. I must say, though, that having now had a few cups of this, I think rooibos is just not my thing. I’m not fond of the woody (not even woody — twiggy? bark-y? hamster shavings-like?) flavor. I’ve loved drinks like barrel-aged oaky wines and peaty whiskies, but to me that’s an elegant complex flavor intermingling with another interesting, assertive, contrasting flavor, whereas the rooibos just seems flat, one-note, like something you’d grudgingly drink to sort of remind yourself of tea if you couldn’t have tea … like WWII rationing or something. Apologies to rooibos lovers!!

It has been a long time since I’ve had a Moroccan mint tea. My favorite in the genre is Samovar’s Moorish Mint, and I remember it being exquisite. Damn near perfect, really.

From the moment I opened my tin of this, though, I thought it was a definite contender. A wonderful minty smell — but not too minty, not so minty that it overpowers everything and makes your eyes water. It smells to me like spearmint rather than peppermint — which makes sense because I think that is what is typically used in Moroccan mint tea. But it is also a gentler mint in general, and tends to blend better. I also smell the bergamot, which is a nice touch — it cuts through any tendency the mint might have had to be overpowering.

The tea steeps to a pretty, apricot color with some suspension in it and smells divinely minty (but not overpoweringly so). The bergamot has a heightening effect that’s hard to describe. It’s like a freshening effect, I guess.

The flavor is gently minty with slight bit of citrus around the edges. The tea base is a juicy, vegetal green that peeks through every now and then.

It is not as perfect as Samovar’s. But it is quite good.

The dry leaves are short, small, and dark green with white tips. Their smell is not very intense; it’s earthy, almost piny, with a sharp note that is more like what I tend to find in second flush darjeelings.

The steeped tea is a clear, amber color and smells, remarkably, like baked goods. It has a floral upswing to it as well.

In flavor, it’s rather mellow. The sharp note in the dry leaves is noticeable but much less intense in the flavor. I do get caramel, remarkably, and something that is rather coffee-like, too. Pomegranate and lemon balm, not so much. Though if I squint, I can understand the lemon balm which is more like an aura of generic citrus to me.

It’s a delightful darjeeling.

In the tin, the dry tea smells like gingerbread, down to a pastry-like quality. Yum.

The ginger is also prominent in the steeped tea’s aroma, as is the cinnamon and clove. Cardamom? It’s there, though for me, it’s around the edges. I was sort of hoping there’d be a citrus element. I wanted to see what a French blend with the Constant Comment flavor profile would be like. But no citrus that I can ascertain. The liquor is dark brown, almost coffee colored though it’s translucent rather than opaque.

Which reminds me, I dislike the fact Mariage Freres doesn’t list its blend ingredients. I am not sure why they don’t list them, but I thought it was an FDA requirement? I know they’re French, but I’d think if you’re selling into the US market, you’re still required to abide by those requirements. I don’t specialize in that sort of law, though, so I could be wrong.

If the reason they don’t list them is a sort of trade-secrety worry that others will copy their blends, I think that’s a little misguided. Knowing the ingredients doesn’t mean I can blend something myself that will taste like something I can buy. That takes skill that I simply don’t have. Even master blenders blending the same flavor profile have variations — none of them are exactly the same unless they’re the same tea with different branding.

Anyway /rant over.

This is a nice spice tea. It’s smooth, which is a relief. Some spice teas can be harsh. It’s pretty evenly blended so that no one flavor takes over. I don’t taste much pepper, which is surprising given that it’s listed first in the parenthetical of “including but not limited to” flavors. But it could be that my spoons didn’t pick up much this time. It does have a spicy aftertaste that gives a little burn to the tongue and that could be informed by the pepper. But that could also be the ginger. The pepper is strongest in the aftertaste.

I can understand why CrowKettle thought chai — there’s definitely an overlap in the flavors. But there’s something undefined about this that makes me not think chai, but more a mulled cider without the apple (thinking about what it might be like to put some apple in this?), a wintery, holiday-like flavor profile.

I find it amusing that I seem to want to add fruit to this — orange or apple — as though it’s missing something. But I really don’t think that. It’s very well blended and stands on its own.

Not sure where to rate it because it is a fine example of this flavor profile but I tend to drink this flavor profile sparingly. And I honestly don’t remember which teas in my tea notes are the most direct comparisons to this one (and am not feeling the need to research that point). So I feel a bit as though I’m stabbing in the dark with the rating.

Sipdown no. 26 of 2023 (no. 684 total).

I’m going to miss this one. I see that when I wrote the original note on this I was skeptical about why I would have ordered it. Since then I’ve developed into a pretty big fan of ginger in tea.

This one has a lovely balance. The ginger isn’t too strong, and leaves a nice, fresh aftertaste. The floral notes are atmospheric rather than definable, but they don’t cloud (or crowd) the tea’s flavor.

Lovely even when old, and I might have to get more of this some day when my cupboard is cleared out.