3018 Tasting Notes
This is more a “random steep” note than anything else; I just used a bag of this very nondescript decaf as a holding device for the first fresh apple mint of the season. It’s been monsoon season in Missouri and the plant has been loving it…has already put out its first “tentacle” barely three weeks after we potted it.
As “tea” is actually the last thing mentioned on its ingredient list, I hesitated to add this to the lineup, but for what it is, it’s surprisingly tasty! Locally, we can find it at Atwoods, a farm and ranch store chain that offers free popcorn, saddle blankets, rabbit food, empty egg cartons, live chicks, and an interesting assortment of grocery whatnots.
Normally, I avoid bottled sweet tea because the citric acid reminds me of a bad chemistry experiment. The metallic sharpness spoils what could be a potentially decent drink. In this case, it doesn’t overpower the tea, nor does the sweetener (pure cane sugar; no stevia). It’s more “peach” than “tea,” but the fruit flavor is respectably accurate.
We have a front stoop instead of a front porch, but if I had one, I’d be on it with a rocking chair, the rest of the bottle, and my phone poised toward the maple tree knothole. Hootie has owl babies!
Atwood’s sounds like a fun place to go, and hooray for Hootie!
I love learning about regional shops. How many owlets?
Two, we think. “And” and “The.” The dad, living nearby, is Blowfish.
I can’t tell what’s more delightful, that she had babies or the amazing names you’ve given the family!
If there was just one, he/she was just going to be Andy. “The,” best we can tell, is quite a bit smaller and isn’t quite tall enough to peek all the way out of the hole. Mostly we see fuzz and wings.
Part of a cute little gift threesome in glass test tubes with corks. English breakfast has never been strong enough to wake me…it’s more like gentle tug on the sheets at the bottom of the bed instead of being whapped in the face with a heavy pillow.
That said, this is adequate for office use. Says it’s a blend of Assam, Nilgiri and Ceylon. I say it’s heavy on the Ceylon, but the other players keep it from being too astringent and whiny. Tastes like “just tea.”
Hmmm, I’m wondering which tea is like awaking to a bucket of water over the head?
The two current candidates at my house are Rare Tea RAFA Tea for Heroes (looseleaf) and Taylors of Harrogate Assam (bagged). WHAP!
I agree that Taylors Awesome bagged tea is a good and convenient way to wake up!
It’s been an eventful Easter—torrential rain overnight; Turkey Creek overflowing in the neighbors’ yards; some joy and chaos with my church kids (can you balance six jellybeans on a craft stick clamped in your mouth and say your memory verse?); a quick and quiet lunch followed up by tornado warnings bullying their way through several counties.
Sun’s out now and Hootie (yep, we named her) is peeking out of the knothole to see if the coast is clear. We think she’s got eggs or babies in the knothole because she’s had to fend off some greedy crows. Never underestimate the fury of a mama owl on the warpath.
In all the excitement, I’ve almost forgotten what I planned to say about this gentle oolong, other than my thanks to Martin is long-g-g-g-g-g overdue! I kept the steep time and temp very light, so the essence of the oolong base and the gardenia was barely there. Not heavily floral at all, but that’s the way I like my oolong.
I love Hootie! What a great name for your owl friend. The tea sounds marvelous, too.
It’s one to sit and enjoy slowly and thoughtfully; I haven’t had the time for slow or the brains for thoughtful of late!
I think it is just right between too strong floral notes and too boring “just oolong” notes.
That’s a great way to describe it, Martin!
Sigh. I hate change. Such as the marketing email I received from Savoy this week announcing that they are closing their physical storefronts. Online only. No doubt my favorites (like this one) will still be readily available, but there’s just something about that first step inside the door of a favorite tea shop, that first whiff of leaf, that makes your blood pressure drop and your smile slowly curl up at the corners like the Grinch.
Braveheart isn’t for the weak-minded. Stout, brassy, rye-bread goodness. I hope a packet delivered by mail tastes as good as one you’ve carried out of the store with your own two hands. I have doubts.
How sad it is to see one’s favorite retailer/storefront close up. I do think I’ve visited Savoy’s Rogers location once, back when I frequented that area.
The Rogers store went first…that was a mandatory stop when we went on an Arkansas shopping run.
Oh no! I am so sorry! I still miss Southern Season horribly. The smell of that place would chase any blues away.
This isn’t a new one in my collection, but the packet is slow to empty … this chamomile and apple blend requires such a long steep time, you have to calendar it in. Tonight, I put the leaves in to stew, left it an hour, then reheated it in the microwave. Manhandled that way, it’s delicious! Silky; nice balance of fruit to cami. A good nightcap after a sulky, rainy day.
If you live near a Smallcakes Cupcakerie, consider yourselves fortunate. We miss ours! Little boutique cupcake and ice cream place that changed its flavor lineup weekly. They had a moist, melt-in-your mouth strawberry cupcake that I could gnarf in about three giant bites, I liked it so much. Snowberry Frost is its liquid stepchild. Berries and buttercream, compliments of the lovely ashmanra. Thank you—I needed the smile!
This is from the “I Can’t Believe It’s That Old and Is Still Viable” collection here at Shabby House. Little peach, little rose. No doubt not as potent as in its heyday, but I added a bag of decaf Red Rose and it’s not a bad little secondhand cup to keep me company while we’re waiting for the owl concert. We’ve got one camping in the knothole in the tree in our front yard and he’s due to wake up in about ten minutes.
Based on evening acoustics, his permanent hangout is across the creek, but D caught him taking refuge the other morning in our tree after a rumble with a couple of crows.
I can’t believe I forgot about this one. My little bag of buckwheat goodness is about to celebrate a birthday, so it’s time to finish and enjoy it. However, it’s held up well and still tastes like church kid cookies—I pulled up my old note and we had a lovely conversation about it then.
Nature’s Own Factory does not appear to have restocked its cocoa grist version, which is a shame. I wonder if a homemade version with plain buckwheat tea and cocoa nibs would be a fair substitute.
One doesn’t expect much from a box of teabags on one-dollar clearance at Wal-Mart. This performed right on point. The astringency that I associate with Red Rose has been de-caffed out and what’s left is mild and maybe a little soapy, but not undrinkable. It will be a good carrying mechanism for additives.
