Adagio Custom Blends, Sami Kelsh

Guys GUYS remember that time I visited the set of Doctor Who and interviewed the Christmas special guest cast and all of the things and it was the best day ever? I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT IT NOW: http://www.cultbox.co.uk/features/previews/doctor-who-christmas-2014-special-set-report/

(Also I had fish and chips in the BBC canteen that were really good, Brian Minchin is the nicest person ever, Peter Capaldi said hi to me and I blushed, I stole a handful of fake snow from the polar base, and contemplated stowing away on the TARDIS but settled for taking a buttload of selfies because I am a professional)

Oh and I had this tea for breakfast and it was really lovely and smooth and silly and warm.

MAN. Well, in spite of two shiny new rejection letters, I feel moderately positive today. Probably because I decided to totally wing it with this week’s comedy bake, and my maple and honey banana and prune flax and wholemeal spelt tea cake is ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS. I’m seriously impressed with myself. I wish I could bake for a living. I’m really good at it. Also I wish I had a living. My agent hasn’t rung in a month, and I swear it’s because my headshot makes me look like a bland, flavourless lump instead of a fine Canadian queen. I’m depressing myself. Dammit! Onward to brave tea, then!

Gosh Harry, you really are a cracking good fellow, old thing. The tea’s fragrance in the bag is that of soft almond backed by a honeyed sweetness, faintly reminiscent of pipe tobacco. When brewed, the sweet almond becomes a more subtle finishing note, allowing the solid, strong tea to come forward, as well as the fragrance and flavour of caramelized pumpkin and warming spice. It has a soft, slightly starchy mouthfeel that pairs beautifully with milk and sugar. Harry Sullivan is nothing short of genius.

Yay, I can sort of taste food again! This flu’s gone on for ages and doesn’t show nearly enough signs of letting up, but I can taste my tea.

This is a good comfort tea for me, when I want something that doesn’t take milk, which I don’t when I’m this nose-blowy, but it’s got such a lovely peachy, rhubarby, very green taste that tastes like I’m drinking something good for me in the best possible way. Maybe it will speed my recovery. That would be nice.

Good ol’ Adric. The saddest thing about his departure, to me, isn’t so much that he was a totally awesome dude, but that he was young enough to have so much potential to have matured into an awesome grown-up and he never got the chance to. That’s the tragedy.

I might be a touch biased about Adric because one of my very dearest friends, as a fresh-faced youngster, was the dude who wrote Adric’s introductory serial, so I think it’s fair to say my soft spot for Adric stems at least in part from the fact that he always makes me think of lovely Andrew, who’s been such a supportive presence for me since we met. And what a talented fellow he is, too. Do check out the latest audio drama he’s done for Big Finish. It’s intense.

But I digress, as this isn’t meant to be a review of the amazing friends I’m blessed with knowing (though I could gush for ages because I AM BLESSED WITH SOME OF THE MOST AMAZING FRIENDS) so I suppose I should say something about Adric blend tea and why I love it so.

I’ve said it before, and I’m sure I’ll say it again: Adric is a snotty little brat, but I still kind of love him. You might think the combination of flavours seems a tad off-putting, but in reality, the blend is redolent with fragrant summer fruit, like a bumper crop of peaches and rhubarb ripening in the garden. They’re definitely not quite ripe yet, though, as the flavour that hits you immediately on first sip can be best described simply as green. It’s not terribly grassy though, or particularly vegetal either; rather, it’s reminiscent of that green, slightly dry astringency of a peach that’s quite pale and still crunchy. A decided sweetness follows closely, however, and is enhanced by a little sugar. At times, the interplay of flavours seems almost as complex as Fermat’s last theorem: it is brisk, tart, fragrant, and thoroughly engaging. This is a tea that definitely seems a bit odd at first, but very quickly grows on you.

Raisins and hay! Malt and dates! All my favourite things (well, my favourite things that I like to taste together in certain kinds of tea)! I don’t know. You know there are just certain flavour combos that just make you super happy? This is totally one of them. It’s so grounding and cozy when you finally see a morning frost on the shrubs outside your house for the first time this season. It’s a source of strength when people keep throwing things at you to do because you’re probably the only person in your office who actually knows how to do stuff. It’s surprising in the depth and complexity of flavours it brings, with such simple ingredients compared to a lot of flavoured blends. It’s just pure joy.

I have SO many Doctor Who teas that I try not to revisit the same one in a relatively short space of time, but oh Nyssa.

Oh Nyssa. So nice I steeped it twice! I’ve never resteeped this one before, and now I’m really wondering why I’ve never thought to before now. The first steep is the same flawless magnificence of serene and grounding flavours of malt, dates, and hay; the second steep, on the other hand, brings the earthy farm flavour of the pu’erh to the fore, until it cools slightly, when a distinct note of raisin emerges ahead of the hay, eventually transforming the whole cup into what feels like drinking an oatmeal raisin cookie. Like WOW. It’s a whole other experience, and I love everything about it. Seriously. This is a definite contender for being my all-time favourite of any tea ever. The shifting flavours are subtle but strong, and there’s never a trace of bitterness. I never tire of it.

My face hurts. I think the day’s stress has aggravated my TMJ. At least I don’t have to go anywhere or see anyone until Tuesday. Unless I run out of milk and have to dash to the supermarket, which I will. Let’s pray that I can get away with wearing a sweatshirt and won’t run into anyone I know.

I need resiliency tea. This’ll do nicely. It’s one of my absolute favourite teas in the entire world ever.

Nyssa is such a wonderful combination of restraint, strength of character, complexity, and sweetness. The leaves’ fragrance is unassuming at first, but a little attention reveals layers of earthiness, maltiness, a very very delicate sweetness, a little bit of fresh hay, and just a trace of something nearly reminiscent of fresh dates. A little sugar and milk elevates the caramel flavour, but it is never cloying, and does not overpower. The balance is such that each flavour – the earthy pu erh, the malty assam, the rich, sweet caramel – is allowed to articulate itself in all its dimensions, with quiet strength. I could drink this every day and never tire of it.

Guess what I’ve been doing today? If you guessed filling out job applications, writing cover letters, and emailing my CV, you’d be correct! Spot-on! Somebody put me out of my misery!

I also registered for next year’s Gallifrey One convention in LA. It sold out in just under 2 weeks last year; this time, it sold out in 75 minutes. Glad I decided to put off picking up groceries until after tickets went on sale. What a relief! That was a stressful experience, to say the least.

I’m still holding out hope that one of these years, I’ll be invited as a guest. What are the chances you might be invited as a guest if you’ve already bought a ticket? Maybe I could use the ticket for a plus-one and bring somebody who couldn’t get one. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself because unless you’re one of a handful of people who’ve written for Big Finish, nobody knows me because of Who yet. I intend to correct this.

Oh yeah, and I’m drinking Susan Foreman blend tea.

Susan, like the early seasons of Doctor Who is definitely worth getting to know. Opening the bag, I am met with the light and perfumed sweet-tart fragrance of bergamot and red berries. As befits a green tea, the flavour is delicate and balanced, without a trace of bitterness or astringency. Whereas raspberry black tea tends to have a bit of weight and that tannic undertone, there’s none of that here. The hint of vanilla softens the tartness of the raspberry and citrus, and it’s all just rather nuanced in a very agreeable way. An understated and very pleasant blend, delightful at any temperature.

I wish I was as cool as Ace McShane. She gets stuff done. I accidentally took a nap this afternoon when I fell asleep by mistake in the middle of a job application form. Blerg. That would never have happene to Ace McShane. She’s fierce.

Aaaaaand, BOOOOOOOOOOOOM! The scent of Ace blend is like an explosive blast of sweet, nutty caramel, with a trace of smoky green lurking in the background, and a surprisingly buttery, lingering finish. It’s a bit of a flavour bomb when brewed, too. in spite of this, though, it still never fails to taste like tea, accented by caramel, with rich hazelnut following at the end. I think it’s the gunpowder that mainly serves to keep the sweet flavours in the tea from veering into cloying territory and lend a fascinating complexity. Seriously, I’m fascinated by this tea: it’s dark and bright, rich and sweet. It’s fierce, and absolutely delicious.

Remember that job I interviewed for last week? Got it! Aww yeahhhhh. Alternate weekends at the IWM, here I come!

(Here’s hoping something with an actually sustainable number of hours actually pops up soon though, I can’t live on alternate weekends. I’m scarily poor.)

Tea, though. Tea is good. And while I’m not big on most white teas on their own, I do enjoy a good white tea with the right kind of stuff. Yay, white tea and stuff! First of all, they’re really not kidding when they say the TARDIS pouch is dimensionally transcendental – there’s definitely an extra ounce in there. Well played, Adagio! Secondly, once I’d opened the pouch, the first thing that hit me was a wave of clean and bright peppermint. On closer inspection, I found the fragrance to be underscored by the presence of subtle, soft blueberry. The taste is light and clean: there’s a sort of floral delicacy that sits behind the mint, and a quiet blueberry sweetness that follows. Because it’s so delicate, this is the kind of blend that even an unstoppable sweet tooth like me can enjoy with or without sugar, though I do find that a little sweetening teases out the blueberry flavour just a little bit more. It’s beautiful warm, but also an excellent candidate for drinking on ice. Clean and comforting, and just makes me feel all happy inside, like the familiar hum of the TARDIS console room itself, the hatstand by the door, the incomprehensible collection of buttons and lights and levers, and that bit that goes ‘vworp vworp’ and moves up and down to tell you you’re currently travelling through time and/or space. Tastes like home.

I am a big dork.

Seemed like Leela was an appropriate choice for breaking in this new Doctor Who mug:

https://forbiddenplanet.com/76143-doctor-who-mug-lets-not-be-ostentatious/

And also an appropriate choice for the end of a weekend where I ate WAY too much bad food (Canadian/American Thanksgiving party times) and need something with lots of wholesome goodness too soothe my tummy. Leela’s a blend of oolong, pu erh, and roasted mate, so she seemed like a good choice. And it’s so earthy and warm and smooth, with forward notes of cocoa and chicory, followed by soft hay and a slight creamy nuttiness. Yeah, this is good.

OH MAN, I missed Thanksgiving not doing it last year! And it gave me an excuse to make puff pastry from scratch for an apple tart, and a batch of pumpkin muffins, which are the best part of autumn. Good.

I am having such a pu erh day. Ohh baby. I also just finished baking a buttload of vegan muesli cookies for comedy night and I’m having emotional lady trouble and SO HELP ME IF ALL OF THE GUESTS AND PEOPLE ARE ON DIETS AND DON’T EAT THEM I WILL CRY because I bake for the same reason that comedians do comedy: for approval and love. Apparently the bank phoned me back in Canada and it’s probably because I’ve been avoiding looking at my account for like a month because I know I have no money and no job and I’m really scared. I need Leela strength.

Leela is a force to be reckoned with. The tea leaves even look magnificent, so many different shapes and shades of brown make it somehow one of the most aesthetically pleasing blends I’ve seen. Their scent is rich: roasty, earthy, nutty, and subtly sweet. The flavour is earthy and smooth, the oolong blending beautifully with the depth of the pu erh and the mate bringing a sweet, nutty finish. If there ever was a recipe for strength and bravery, this is it.

Decaf is important. I’m grateful to have a nice, bright lemony brew to gently send me to what I hope will be a sound sleep tonight. It has to be. I’ve been nervous for so many days, and then oddly anxious this weekend, even though my scariest work is done.

Yeah, so on Friday, I got up at like 5 in the morning to rattle down to the BBC in London to interview Mark Gatiss, Peter Capaldi, and Steven Moffat. How I managed to say questions and make conversation and not just sit there slack-jawed and gibbering, I have no clue. Lovely gentlemen, all of them. Details to follow.

:3c

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

My favourite Cyberman voice is still the voice they had in The Tenth Planet, and later in the audio Spare Parts (which, if you haven’t listened to it, GO LISTEN TO IT. Like, I don’t care if you’ve never heard of Doctor Who. Go get Spare Parts. It’s really good.) Also, I’m drinking decaf this eve because I sort of have to try and be awake at normal times next week.

Mind you, I’m all discombobulated anyway because Gentleman’s on the other side of the world and texts to say good morning when I’m getting ready for bed, and wakes me up in the morning when he texts to say goodnight. It’s whack, but MAN am I glad we didn’t meet in the 90s, when we’d be racking up massive phone bills just to say we love each other every day.

God, we’re so gross. I love him. I’m like the opposite of a Cyberman. It’s like the people of Mondas all downloaded their feelings into me. I am a blob of emotions. I guess I should actually talk about the tea.

I don’t suppose Cybermen care about things like tea. This is an awful shame because this is a wonderfully luscious cuppa. The scent is very Earl Grey-forward: I was hit immediately with an invasion of powerful bergamot, but it was followed at the very end by just a suggestion of something sweet. It is balanced and mellowed when brewed, the blueberry’s sweet presence underscoring the brisk Earl Grey. The lemon cloud contributes more gentle sweet softness than flavour. plus, that little bit of gold in there will keep the Cybermen at bay. It’s perfect with two spoonfuls of sugar, and just the sort of thing to wind down with after a long day of invading Earth.

Forgive!

I have been horribly, horribly remiss in actually logging tasting notes for, uhh, the entire month of February. Shame on me. I guess the wedding kind of preoccupied me for quite a while there, then I was in LA on book-promo duty (which I’m terrible at because doing social frightens me at the best of times, and actually telling people to go make a donation and invest in Seasons Of War? Eep! At least the work speaks for itself, as far as I’m concerned…) and since I got back I’ve been sick. Started with flat-out exhaustion, like, to the extent that I fell asleep at my desk enough times in a morning that I just went home for the next 2 days, then came the migraine, and now I’m deaf on the left side again. Yippee!

So I’ve actually been drinking a lot of tea in between attempting to get writing done, wrestling with spreadsheets at the office, and panicking about where the heck I’m going to rustle up £600 from for my ridiculously expensive visa application so I can keep living in the same country as my spouse. So yeah, Stupid busy.

And REALLY into the spicy teas of late – I keep reading about how cinnamon is really good for you, but not actually sure that the amount in, like, a cup of tea is going to make a lick of difference. But who cares? It’s delicious. It’s like a super-spiced apple crumble that snuggles you from the inside out. I love this tea. It’s spicy and juicy and cozy and all of the things I want to be drinking right now.

My hours have just been increased to actually, properly full time at work as of today, and I’m torn between rejoicing and being totally afraid this means I’m going to end up massively overtaxed with things to do. Especially since I’m currently sat in my office not able to do anything because all of the things rely on other people doing their bits first. Oh well. I’ve got articles to write up for Cultbox, and if I’d thought ahead to bring my tablet with me, I’ve got a couple books I need to review. There’s knitting in my purse, but that may be a little egregious should anyone find me mid-stitch when they come to knock on my office door. Never mind.

This blend is such an autumn/winter thing, all sweet, juicy apple and cinnamon and ginger, with a subtle but present backbone of brisk black tea. It’s slightly managing to smoosh down the fear that everything is just about to go terribly, horribly wrong, in any case.

It’s windy and grim outside and I’ve been bingewatching The Office all day and I’m going to go to sleep weirdly early and I have to get up and write all day tomorrow if I’m going to get this short story done ahead of the deadline.

I genuinely believe that if I get this story done, it’s the kind of pretentious and weird drivel that will find itself on at least one women in fiction 101 syllabus. And that’s a good 60 or so students who will have to buy my story. YESSSSSSSSS.

It really is impossible not to love Jo Grant. This tea is sweet, spirited, and warm, just like Jo herself. The fragrance of the leaves begins with sweet, juicy apple, soon joined by cinnamon and spice. In the cup, it really does smell like a gently spiced apple crumble. It holds a natural hint of sweetness on its own, but stands up beautifully to a spoonful or two of sugar as well. The apple and spice are perfectly balanced. The texture is crisp and juicy, with vibrant, slightly buzzy notes of cinnamon and ginger. A very loveable tea, and just the thing when you could use a warm hug of sunshine on a dreary day.

I wasn’t sure whether to put this note under this tea, or Irish Breakfast, as I was craving something with a bit of caffeine but not full-on, as my head hurts and I’m a bit sad, and also not totally plain, so I split half Sarah Jane and half Irish Breakfast in this cuppa.

And it’s good. It’s a more gentle spice than Sarah Jane on her own, which suits my mood perfectly, but it’s still lovely and cinnamon and ginger and rich and delightful.

Turns out my phone plan ran out of credit last night, and I didn’t realize until mid-morning. Which wouldn’t be a huge deal except that Gentleman had been texting from the airport before flying from Melbourne to Tokyo, and I missed getting to be with him in the airport (at least via text). I just thought there wasn’t free wifi and that’s why I hadn’t heard from him, and it turns out he’d been texting me all kinds of updates about how much he misses me and just thought I was having a lie-in. I miss him a lot. My heart hurts.

Tea helps. Stupid emotions. I think I aggravated my sinuses with that 15 minutes of sobbing, and now my voice is shot, so so much for recording a few podcasts tonight. Yippee! Bring on the tea!

Sarah Jane Smith is magnificent. The spice, especially clove and a little cinnamon, are the dominant scents in the bag. After brewing and liberal quantities of sugar and hot milk, the tea is warm, restorative, and comforting. The spices are neither overpowering or underwhelming, but instead lend a tangible heat, a lovely warming quality, backed by a gentle sweetness. And because of all the other things in it, you really can’t taste the rooibos distinctly, which suits me just fine. Works equally well when bracing yourself for adventure, or winding down after a long day.

I took myself to the mall to celebrate with a latte after my job interview today, and ended up buying myself a celebration dress and a thing of gummy bears. And then when I went to come home I discovered that the shuttle bus back to the tram station stops running 45 minutes before I got there. Because why would they do something logical like run as long as the tram is running, or until the mall closes? So I had to go back into the mall and take cash out of the bank because I had literally like 13p on me and then I had to break a tenner and ended up buying fishcakes and oven chips and a tin of tomatoes, but that didn’t quite make the right amount of change, so I had to stop at H&M and buy a pair of tights, and THEN I caught a bus home, which I had to pay an extra £2.20 for, not including the other £6 I spent making change for the bus. I’m too poor for this garbage. I’m glad I chose something beautiful and decaf because I’m going to go sleep for like 14 hours now. I really needed gently spicy warmness tonight.

I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to try this as a latte.

OH MY GOD YES YES YES GOOD.

Smoky chocolate mint, only creamier. Exactly the kind of thing I want to funnel down me in huge quantities as soon as leaves start falling off the trees.

Feeling so properly autumnal now. I’ve got my arsenal of plaid flannel shirts out, and my Halloween costume’s almost ready to go (so dorky, so good). I think this is my favourite time of year. Except that time this morning somebody bashed into me turning a corner, spilling hot tea all over me, leaving a rather painful burn mark on my right boob. So grateful my shirt buttons up to cover it, as it looks a lit-tle like a bite mark…

And I’m not THAT into vampires.

Ok, so I guess I’m grudgingly getting into the holiday spirit. Or maybe it’s just that it’s cold outside and the residual heat from the oven when you leave the door open after you’ve baked a batch of cookies means you don’t have to put the radiator on, thus killing two electricity birds with one stone. Or that it’s grey and grim as heck and I need all the blankety, cardigan-flavoured, comfort things I can get to keep me going.

Whatever it is, the flavour of peppermint, dark chocolate, made deep and toasty warm with a pinch of bonfire, is totally hitting every conceivable spot right now. It is definitely the time of year for all my winter warmer teas. The rain seeps into your bones here. That’s why they drink so much tea. You need it to protect you, and Benton’s doing an admirable job.

I have a job interview tomorrow, which should excite me more than it does, but I’m a jumble of feelings at the moment, and if I’m honest, I’m slightly disappointed in, I dunno, the economy or whatever people keep telling me is the reason nobody wants to hire me for anything better than two-days-a-week retail. So I need fortifying bravery teas.

Thus: Benton, you darling, precious puppydog. The scent of this tea is absolutely charming, all dark chocolate and sweet top notes of peppermint, with the gentlest background note of smoky richness, and a lingering soft chocolate finish that stays on the nose a few moments even after you’ve closed the bag. The flavour is very much the same: the lapsang is a background note, serving mainly to compliment the other flavours, which are both strong enough to stand up to the smoke instead of being buried under it. It tastes very much like peppermint chocolates, but it’s a dark chocolate here, not cloying – at least 70% cocoa. Sweet and comforting, while remaining decidedly brave. An absolute darling of a brew.

I like when things are decaf and I make them early enough in the evening that it means I won’t wake myself up at 1 in the morning needing the loo.

And also, it’s like a more mature, hot, drinkable version of a Solero – layers of creamy vanilla with lashings of orange and mango. A perennial favourite, K-9. He’s a good boy. Yes he is. Yes he is. Affirmative!

ALSO, I’m at a loose end in London for most of tomorrow, and as such need recommendations as to what things I might blow some little wodges of cash on at the Mariage Freres counter in Selfridges, and possibly also T2 as I think I pass it on the way to Broadcasting House anyway, which is dangerous and great. Thinky thoughts? Help Kelsh!

I really do look forward to being able to hear out of my left ear again. I’m just a total loagy mess all the time right now and it’s poop.

I tend not to gravitate straight off the bat to decaf teas, but I really need to get more into the habit of not caffeinating myself at night because BY GOLLY, DO I NEED ALL THE SLEEP I CAN GET. Which is woefully little, it seems. How do other humans have normal jobs and not just be exhausted all the time?

Anywho. I always forget how much I like this tea until I make it again, and remember. It’s soft, creamy citrus instead of sharp, tart citrus, like a sunshiney pillow of flavour. It makes me feel all snuggly.