Organic Rooibos

I’ve just had my second cup of this. I had the first cup a few days ago and I’m…flummoxed. The two cups were very, very different. I can’t imagine what was wrong with my olfactory sense and tastebuds then (or is, now?) to make my perception so wacky.

Last time, I didn’t write a tasting note because my cuppa was kind of icky. I could have sworn that I smelled something a bit fishy—maybe not fishy, really, but kind of…fish watery? I dunno, it was all very odd, hence no tasting note. This time, all that was gone. I just smelled paper (this is the bagged version that I have) and plain rooibos.

I don’t know what makes one plain rooibos better than another. I’d think that they’d basically be the same. I wouldn’t say that about actual tea, but red rooibos, ya. Buuuuut I guess I’m wrong, because although this has all the “proper” elements of a plain rooibos—its warmth, its woodsy aroma and flavour, etc.—it’s just okay, not great. I love (red) rooibos, so I’m pretty forgiving, and I’m no expert, but I’ve tasted better. How and why better, I’m not entirely certain, just…better.

Weird: there’s a bit of astringency, but not in the usual sense. Instead of hitting the back of my mouth, it hit my throat, like actually in my throat. It lasted just a moment, and disappeared as the tea cooled. Such a strange sensation.

Steep time: I just left the bag in the cup. I don’t worry about rooibos getting bitter and knew that I’d sip-gulp the cup down in a few minutes, anyway.

Tea amount: 1 bag
Water amount: 6oz/~175mL
Additives: none

Woo, 100th note! Do I get to join the Little League team, now? :D

Once upon a time, I thought it would be a good idea to try some plain rooibos samples from well-respected tea companies on the assumption that said well-respected tea companies would also, more likely than not, have finer quality exemplars of plain rooibos than I might find in my local grocery store. This was back when I was scratching my head over what rooibos truly tasted like since I’d only had it in flavored tisanes and felt it necessary for my own education to understand what rooibos tasted like on its own.

Since then several things have happened. One, my tastes have evolved. Two, I have learned what plain rooibos tastes like. Three, I have concluded that rooibos is not my favorite thing, though it has its place and I can enjoy it if it is in a blend and playing the role of the backdrop, quietly. And all of this managed to happen before I got around to trying my non-grocery store samples.

But I feel for completeness’ sake that I must follow through on my original experiment, even though I already know going into this that I’m not going to be buying a boatload of this after I dispense with my sample.

In the sample packet, the smell is actually pretty unbelievable. In a good way. It’s a richer smell than I normally associate with rooibos, and a sweeter one. It’s pretty close to spiced apple. The “needles” look like your basic red rooibos, though they’re not as fine and splintery as some I’ve seen. They’re more of a medium grain.

It brews very red, not surprisingly. The aroma is appley, with a bit of wood mixed in.

The taste is pretty much like it smells, which is what I expected. A better tasting version of bagged rooibos. It has a soft feel and a hint of vanilla.

It’s not something I’m going to be drinking straight, but it makes me appropriately curious about what H&S rooibos blends are like. I may end up trying some in my search for the quiet non-rooibos rooibos.

This is as basic as a tea gets. Rooibos is technically a tisane or more commonly a herbal tea. It comes from a plant called Aspalathus linearis and simply referred to as red bush. The plant starts out as green and the “red” color emerges as a result of the oxidation that occurs during the processing of the leaves.

Rooibos has no caffeine as well as other chemicals that occur in tea (sourced from Camillia sinensis); these differences result in rooibos being very forgiving in the brewing process. You could easily oversteep leaves from Camillia sinenses and the resulting liquor is bitter, harsh and undrinkable, but oversteeping leaves from Aspalathus linearis does fall into that problem.

As a experiment, this rooibos was steeped for 8 minutes, with water that was boiling at the start. The tea that resulted tasted fine, it was strong on the typical smoky flavor but there was no bitterness.

Under a standard brewing of 2 minutes 30 seconds, it resulted in a refreshing tea that had a hint of smokiness to it and generally a smooth finish. There is a very, very slight nutty flavor to it that complements the mild plant-like taste- however, these two flavors are very mild, which is good for something like this that makes an excellent everyday drinker.

I can’t believe I bought this. I have never loved rooibos. When I first started drinking real “tea”, I bought a lot of Harney and Sons blends and one of them was African Autumn. We had a dodgy relationship. I wanted to love it. I just didn’t.

After reading about Precious Ramotswe and her 99 cups per week, I wondered if I should give plain rooibos a try. Then lo and behold, a sachet showed up in my Fortnum Advent and even though I still didn’t think I loved it, I started craving because I could just taste that lingering woody flavor long after it was gone and the memory of it haunted me. I wanted a cup of something I wasn’t even sure I liked.

So I gave in and ordered the loose one from Harney and Sons. Aroma in the tin is super strong cherry cough syrup. Taste is wooden ice cream spoon plus Robitussin. I think this is what it is supposed to taste like, though. The taste is much milder than the aroma would lead you to believe.

I wish I could try the two side by side, but at this moment I am thinking I preferred Fortnum’s.

Although health claims about teas may be a little dodgy, I did read recently that green rooibos is even better for you than red, and I certainly prefer it, so maybe someday I will try a plain green. In the meanwhile, I have Simpson and Vails awesome green rooibos flavored blends.