129 Tasting Notes
This ‘Rooibos Pecan Pie’ blend greets us with a warm embrace of almond essence, redolent of decadent confections. Indeed, it bears a resemblance to David’s Tea’s ‘Alpine Punch,’ a perfect winter rooibos nestled amongst snow-capped peaks. The taste, while undeniably charming, offers a fleeting indulgence—a delightful dalliance for the present moment, though perhaps not a blend I’ll buy continuously.
A blend that beckons with a discreet charm. Its spicy profile, dominated by nettle, is interwoven with a delicate floral note courtesy of calendula, knapweed, fireweed and oregano flower. The leaves themselves are a sight to behold – large and elegant, as is the hallmark of Camellia Sinensis herbal teas. These bigger leaves demand a rather tactile approach, as a spoon would not allow a balanced selection of ingredients.
The infusion offers a mild, soothing taste. Beyond its flavour, this tea’s virtues lie in its utility—relieving headaches and aiding digestion. A quiet yet dependable ally in one’s collection albeit its steep price, perfect for moments of restorative calm.
This ‘Menthe Verte’ from Damman Frères, acquired as a delightful sample during a shopping jaunt in Paris, offers precisely what one might expect: a straightforward yet pleasant expression of peppermint. The finely crushed leaves make for a refreshing infusion, although it’s fair to say that their modest size sacrifices some of the elegance you’d expect from a premium herbal tea like those from Camellia Sinensis in Montreal. It is, by all accounts, a good and simple mint, though hardly a revelation.
However, I cannot help but question the necessity of getting peppermint from France when Quebec’s own local offerings are equally robust and satisfying. A lovely infusion, to be sure, but hardly a compelling reason to forgo locally sourced herbs. Certain pleasures are best savoured within their local terroir.
This herbal tea bears witness to the rigorous selection of leaves by Camellia Sinensis. The leaves themselves are of the size and quality typical of this tea house, which is better hand-picked, rather than scooped out with a spoon.
The aroma is dominated by a vivacious lemongrass note, yet artfully interwoven with delicate florals, and a refreshing zest. Upon infusion, the brew unfolds with a delightful interplay of tartness and subtle floral undertones. The lemongrass remains a prominent protagonist, lending a vibrant acidity. However, the infusion threatens to veer towards an assertive boldness after seven minutes, while a mere minute earlier, it risks becoming disappointingly watery whilst maintaining an astringency.
This tisane being on the more expensive spectrum (80 CAD$ for 100g), I wonder if I could find something similar and as relaxing in another teahouse.
The tea smells of flowers and figs. However, it falls short of the anticipated lavender essence that a tea named “Provence” would suggest.
On the palate, the flavour hints at a distant echo of “Noël à Prague” black tea (plum black tea), but with a more muted profile that feels somewhat drab. Despite a four-minute steep, even the tea leaves remain lackluster.
This blend may not find its way into my shopping cart again. It’s good but I’ll stick with other, more preferred options.
