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Bit of a dinner disaster. The experimental chicken satay was pretty tasty (bottled sauce so I couldn’t ruin it) but the gluey rice noodle mess I ended up with was nothing like the light and tasty noodly-salad thing they serve with satay at the mom-and-pop Thai restaurant we like.

Pawed through my oolong basket (I try to sort by category) and found a bit of a sample left and decided some really fine tea would be balm to my wounded wannabe chef psyche.

This is, indeed, one of those fine oolongs that starts florally and ends caramelly. Good as dessert. Enjoying it and watching two Alfreds play in my backyard. All live bunnies at our house are named Alfred. The zombie bunny is just Anonymous.

This one can be described in a very few words—Dr. Pepper without the fizz. I like it, but there’s a little censor in my brain this morning, as I drink it hot, who keeps whispering, “This should be COLD! This should be COLD!” (Shades of Sheldon Cooper.)

Flavor’s strong enough that 1/3 teaspoon of mate thrown in for a morning kick doesn’t make a dent in it. Notable as a Cheapster Steepster, too; bought in bulk for a bit over $1 an ounce. Plenty cheap to try it both hot and cold. (OKAY, Dr. Cooper. Enough.)

Changing up the morning routine is good for your moldering brain, so I hear, so I closed my eyes and grabbed a random packet this morning. This one won the morning lottery. It doesn’t have boot-you-out-the-door strength (few ooolongs do), but is sweet and delicate; has the personality of a little imported tea biscuit.

I am consistently impressed by the quality of the Boston Teas I’ve tried…not a zonker yet.

It’s vile. Liquid chilled preservatives and citric acid. You could clean floors with it. Unfortunately, my husband likes it.

I’m not a Lipton hater—good old basic black loose tea and their pyramid bag series get my thumbs up—but this venture into bottled wasn’t a good one.

I’m on my second box of the bagged version of this one … I had taken the bags to work, and with work water and sloppy microwaving, didn’t have much to say about it. However, I made a tumbler properly this morning and now I remember that I really do like it. It’s a smooth and bakey Assam—a good solid wheat-toast breakfast tea.

Grabbed the wrong Mighty Leaf packet without actually reading labels … boy, this doesn’t taste like Chamomile Citrus! It does, however, taste pleasantly minty and does, at least to some extent, create a system-clearing sensation.

Always Save orange pekoe (about half a pint, made as sun tea) + leftover Yorkshire Gold (about 2/3 cup) + Pappy’s Sassafrass (a sploosh, and no, I don’t know how much that is) = cold and rooty and redneck and perfect for listening to John Hartford on Pandora. Come on over and have a swig.

After a half-day of drudge at my parents’ farm (neither of them is up to heavy housework or miscellaneous personal care sundries) and an afternoon of slamming out an overdue writing assignment, and another half-day of my own housework still staring at me (does that make three halves to the day?) I needed a moment for something wonderful and elegant. This was the first tea that came to mind.

The candy-sweet almond flavor sticks to your tongue several swallows after the tea actually leaves your mouth. Gives you time to close your eyes, forget you’re in a rumply t-shirt stained with household fallout and 99-cent flip flops, and pretend you’re well-dressed, beautifully groomed, and at least temporarily brilliant.

Time for the ol’ summer staple. No tea snobbery here. Steeped cheap, slurped without ceremony, stored in the fridge for an indeterminate length of time, including the bags for cool eye compresses…it’s all good.