479 Tasting Notes
Hnnng my dashboard’s stuck again. Notices aren’t updating, and forum’s cache seems to be backed up too. Welp.
This’ the first tea I released as part of the ‘Tasting Lab’ aside, which is the “AJ’s given free reign to go wild” section of the website where I release just whatever interests me (within reason). At the moment I’m releasing one exclusive tea every two months, and this was the first.
As part of its release, I wrote a work-blog post about the thoughts and inspiration behind it, but had to cut it WAY back to keep to an acceptable level of “AJ Rambles about History”.
The inspiration behind it (and the next blend) came about after a long period of reading about blending-trends through history (especially the Victorian/Edwardian periods), changes in tea-drinking preferences in the US and UK (the UK dropping interest in green tea in the 1800s following Robert Fortune’s ‘famous discovery’, and the US switching from Chinese green to Japanese green at the same time, before finally dropping interest in green in the 1940s following WWII anti-Japanese sentiments).
This bleeds into the green-black blending trends that fell out of fashion in the late 1800s/early 1900s following all of the above sentiments towards green tea. Plus the disappearance of a number of tea types out of China. Chief among, “Scented Orange Pekoe” and “Scented Caper”s, nebulous names for a group of teas scented with flowers, among them jasmine (with at least one example of jasmine later branching off into its own distinct ‘tea’). When blending-books talk about SOPs, they talk about them being a “blending tea” not a “sipping tea”, and that the flowers used to scent them vary season to season (but can include: orange blossom, osmanthus, olive flower, magnolia, and jasmine).
Most noticeably, no blend guide seems to make a distinction in their blends towards specific scents of SOP, and list it very generically. The way it’s written (both looking at outside blending guides at the time, and looking at internal records of tea companies) seems to imply that the specific scent of the SOP during any given season was simply “what you get is what you get”, and the blends that included SOP were expected to vary in aroma.
This entire thing is probably a subject I might write a full blog post on? Eventually? And to avoid making this tasting note too long. Because what’s a blog for if not to focus all the pent up Interest about a subject. But the entire thing kinda culminated after a supplier was nice enough to send me every floral scented and flavoured tea they had, including an orange blossom flavoured oolong.
Poet’s Blend ended up most similar to Library Blend, in that it’s jasminy and slightly more green-leaning, but lacks bergamot oil. The orange blossom oolong sort of replaces the bergamot for that citrus, but only barely—orange blossom I find barely qualifies as ‘citrus’. It’s a very heady, in-your-face floral, and I think pairs very interestingly with jasmine, though it’s a touch bitter.
As a result, this tea can be slightly finicky with water temperature and timing. But the orange blossom adds a very nice fragrance, and is noticeable in the taste when you slurp. It’s very “spring”. The black teas mostly serve as a soft base, adding just a bit of body. The green and oolongs are more prominent in the actual profile, and then the jasmine and orange blossom dominating.
I realize I haven’t tried this iced, but today’s cup is already cold (got distracted writing), and the orange blossom and jasmine comes through more already, so I think I’ll try and ice it this weekend.
Flavors: Grass, Jasmine, Orange Blossom, Rosewood, Vegetable Broth
Turns out, I might not like quince. Or at least quince flavouring.
This’ another uniquely named tea, and another uniquely “BC-inspired” tea. Driftwood was meant to imagine the BC coastline, whereas this blend is named after the old tram system in Steveston, that you can still ride as a tourist. I love the old trams and wish they were still largely in service in Vancouver, so this was definitely on The List.
I was pretty sure I had a tea with quince in it before, but couldn’t remember how that tea tasted. Unfortunately the weird, slightly bitter soapy flavour immediately brought back early tea memories. This’ my second cup, and it HAS grown on me a bit, but something about it is… Bleh, and it numbs my tongue a little.
I don’t really get any vanilla or bergamot, just this lingering soapy taste that sticks to my tongue. I’ve never had an actual quince, but I’d like to, to compare. Google describes raw quince as bitter and unpalatable, and over-ripe and cooked quince as pear-like and vanilla-like.
I’ll finish off the 80 ish grams I have left, and hope it grows on me more. As it cools, I get a little more ‘prickly pear’ and vanilla, but I could be reaching.
Flavors: Astringent, Prickly Pear, Quince, Vanilla
I like unique tea-blend names. The blend itself doesn’t have to be too wild—it can even be a purchased blend that I’m already familiar with that’s just been renamed, but I’ll pick it up if thought went into naming it.
I finally trekked down to Nikaido in Richmond, something I’ve wanted to do for years but hadn’t gotten around to because it was just under two hours by bus.
I prepped before-hand with the lists of teas I was going to get (social anxiety saved by an online catalogue). But I wasn’t sure what else to expect. I knew they sold stationary, and that was about it. But I ended up coming home with a bunch of items with old mineral lithograph prints, including a poster I plan to frame. It was a fun little trip, and I played tourist a bit wandering around Steveston. Checked out some antique shops, walked along the water, and talked myself out of a tram ride.
In terms of this tea, it’s pretty straightforward—a Keemun congou, mixed with large white buds. Yin Zhen style. The white tea immediately evokes the imagery of bleached white driftwood. Add to that the sweet, nutty, woodsy and very faintly smoky Keemun, and I think it’s a very clever, apt name.
There isn’t enough white tea to really impact the flavour (maybe just a touch of sweet hay), just enough to add visual interest, so the tea is a pretty standard Keemun. It’s still enough for me to buy into the branding. The imagery of BC’s coastline, the creativity of using white tea buds. Doesn’t hurt that I’m very partial to Keemun.
Sipping it this morning at work as my first cup. Mellow, faintly nutty, a bit of hay, pleasantly woodsy, and the barest hint of smoke.
Flavors: Hay, Nuts, Smoke, Woody
It really is. It wasn’t until I opened the bag for the first time that I really went “ooooh, I get it”.
The Look of the tea actually drew me in, and I’m a sucker for a nice twist on an Earl Grey.
I think I got the bottom of the tin (I wasn’t scrutinizing them while they weighed), because the leaf is a little extra crumbly, but that didn’t impact the flavour negatively for me.
I didn’t actually pinpoint the orange flavour at first, I was actually too preoccupied with how ‘familiarly different’ the vanilla in this felt. And then it hit me—
this tastes like an orange creamsicle with bergamot. That’s exactly what it tastes like to me, and it’s honestly pretty delicious. Orange soda float with vanilla icecream, because I was a picky kid who didn’t like pop (so rootbeer was a no-go) but could stomach orange crush, and loved vanilla icecream.
Damn, now that it’s hit me I can’t un-think it, but I do really quite like this tea. The yin zhen really does nothing to the flavour, but the black tea has a nice, strong body that compliments the vanilla. I feel like this’d make an interesting latte.
The Canadian website doesn’t have this listed anymore, which makes me think that my shop just had some left over from last year. Extra disappointing, because I’d probably buy this again.
I’ve been eyeing this one since last year? Or a couple years back when a group of interesting Christmas teas dropped, but the pandemic had closed down the DAVIDsTEA shops in my area.
I’m very, very slow to buy anything online, so I finally picked up this and a few others at the downtown shop during my monthly Tea Book Crawl through my favourite used book shops. I lament that Silver Bell Oolong is online-only, because that one definitely stood out the most to me, but I’ll settle for this and Winter Earl Grey.
The smell of this is white chocolate, while the first sip is a sweet mix of ginger-cinnamon-cardamom. It’s followed by a waxy, faintly oily chocolate/coconut oilesque flavour, which is pleasant at first, but quickly gets overwhelmingly sweet in the aftertaste.
I’ve become kinda hypersensitive to sweet things, and stupidly I missed the stevia extract on the ingredients list? It’s enough that it kinda bothers me, but isn’t so high that I think it’d be a general problem for anyone else. It highlights the chocolate, in that sorta silky mouthfeel of white-chocolate ganache way. It IS a very waxy, pointedly white-chocolate flavour first (obviously the intent), and you have to search a little for what the cocoa nibs bring.
It’s a very mild, pleasant chai, enough to be warming, not zingy. I have a feeling it’d be overwhelmed by milk.
We’ll see if the sprinkles and other additives will be a mess to clean out of my filter.
Resinous; I associate rosemary with apple, so you get a piney, apple sharpness to it. The dried juniper berries don’t add much on their own, they just enhance that ‘cooling’ pine mint note you get out of the rosemary. The green-black base leans a bit lighter, brisk and sweet. The Darjeeling skews that. The way jasmine blends with rosemary is unexpected.
I’m actually drinking an earlier version that had a bit of bergamot oil added; I thought this helped make the blend feel less ‘dry’, but it was ultimately dropped from the final recipe, so there’s no liquid oils or flavours in this one at all. This was a tea I was very proud of, even though I knew that it probably wouldn’t draw in a huge crowd, being a little Unusual.
There’s actually an interesting story on my starting-point for this tea. The original blend I began with was a recipe out of our old Family Blend Book; it was labeled ‘Christmas Blend 1972’, commissioned for a family (keeping specific names out). They commissioned a new Christmas blend every couple of years, through the 70s and 80s.
I thought the background was interesting, and the flavour-notes weren’t unusual for most Murchie’s teas—jasmine and bergamot. So I played around with substituting some teas (mostly bumping up grades). I liked the result, but it was similar to our existing green-black blends, so probably not enough to stand on its own. At the same time, I had this idea to add pine-needles to a tea for a piney, ‘christmas tree’ flavour. But sourcing pine needles for human consumption was its own issue; it’s common to forage them, but difficult to find adequate quantities through wholesalers.
Rosemary, though! That was obtainable, would give me the Resinous note I was after, and also reminded me of the mysterious ‘Rosemary Scented Orange Pekoe’ mentioned off-hand in a couple of our very very old price guides. At the same time, I had a sample of dried juniper berries on-hand, and that felt like the perfect finishing touch along that same vein. The dried berries have a very faint pine-mint taste to them when steeped. Having never had gin, I don’t know how they compare.
My working name for the blend at that time was ‘Noel’, but that got turned down. I thought of ‘Evergreen’ next, since all constituents of the blend are evergreen plants. That stuck, and it felt like a better descriptor of the taste-profile. Unfortunately, this tea isn’t returning for Christmas 2022, but I might bring it back for an online-only 2023 addition. In retrospect, I realize it feels like a very Steven Smith kind of tea.
Flavors: Apple, Burnt Sugar, Jasmine, Nuts, Pine, Resin
Preparation
I was already planning to sip this next, because it’s the only unflavoured blend I was allowed to release this year (I’m hampered by Market Wants or else you’d see a lot more from me).
But uh, given Current Circumstances it’s extra fitting?
This was a very nervewracking tea for me to release, because it was the first blend I did with a “name” to back it—Diamond Jubilee and Golden Jubilee already had massive followings from decades past (especially Golden, which was originally released during her Silver, but later renamed). I was afraid I’d have a bunch of long-term Murchie’s fans at my throat.
I wanted this to stand out from the other Jubilees, but worried that if it was too Different than fans of those teas wouldn’t like it. With backing of a bunch of office taste-testers, I went for it. It’s might lighter than the others, using mainly Chinese black teas with a bit of India, no Ceylon. Less tannic, it’s a lot more subtle, with faint notes of smoke and nuts, vanilla and fresh bread. Assam adds just a bit of body, so it’s good with milk, but I love how smooth it is even without.
All in all, it’s a very Afternoon-feeling blend. I almost have to be in the mood for it, or I’ll reach for something stronger. To me it came out Gentle and Comforting. People are probably going to start to catch on that Yunnan-Assam and Yunnan-Keemun are my favourite blending dynamics.
Preparation
What’s this, am I reviewing a tea that hasn’t even been released yet.
Okay it’s coming out next monday, so it’s a tiny sneak peek I guess.
I come up with a lot of derisive blends, and most of them get shot down immediately. I enjoy unique flavour-combinations, and that rarely gets past the pitch-stage.
This was a blend I kept bringing back, and fine-tuning. My working name for it at the time was ‘The Madam’. It was nixed (I was told that was too Risqué), but ‘Parlour Room Blend’ ended up going over very well, so it finally got the green light.
This mixes lapsang souchong with a medley of fruit (raspberry, strawberry and black currant; no one fruit is supposed to stand out, and the result to me is a general, fruity sweetness), and a tiny bit of rose. It’s definitely not for everyone, but I guess it’s a good indication that I’m Proud of a tea when I reach for it every morning (or maybe it’s just that I left my one-pound test batch conveniently on my desk). It makes me think distantly of grilled fruit.
It opens with the fruit, which leads into a sweet rose note. There’s no point where the lapsang starts or ends, it’s pretty prevalent from the beginning to the end, and lingers afterwards, but I don’t find it overpowering (of course, I like smoky teas so there’s a bias).
Really interesting history drive. Are there sources you regularly turn to for reading up on tea history, or is it piecemeal from wider-lens sources?
Sounds delightful and I love the history you shared!
A little of both. Unfortunately, most old tea manuals are under 100 pages—closer to 20 if you convert them to modern formatting, and only have a chapter or so dedicated to blending (they usually come with the disclaimer that ‘blending can only be learned through years of experience’ and will give you fairly basic info).
So I collect a lot of piecemeal sources on blending, and refer back to several when topics of interest come up. Most books roughly cover the teas of interest during the day (whether their purpose in blending, or just a general summary). They’re old, old terms, so half the fun is trying to figure out what tea it’s referring to (if it even still has a modern equivalent).
Archive.org is definitely your friend.
So cool, thanks for sharing.
It’s always interesting to read about tea history! I read a book about the prevalence of green tea in the U.S. and the switch to black tea after WWII. Your blend also sounds nice. Anything with orange blossom gets a thumbs up from me!
That sounds like “Green With Milk & Sugar”, which was a really solid read.