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I’ve tried this sample once before, but as I didn’t record my tastings and couldn’t remember what it tasted like, I have picked up a second sample today. What is a Stockholm blend of tea supposed to actually be? Do they even drink tea in Sweden? My in-depth research – in other words, two minutes on wikipedia – seems to indicate that coffee outsells tea by 60% and the Swedes are eighth in the world for coffee consumption per capita. Several tea suppliers sell a blend called “stockholm” but the only similarity seems to be the mix of astringent fruits and various flowers.

This is nice enough but it could go either of two ways – viz. it will grow on me, or I’ll rate this as just another fruity and floral blend like any other and never given another thought. That’s not to say it is bad, just not particularly remarkable. The tea base is fine, although the colour of the black tea is somewhat brownish and earthy which is not exactly ideal. Prior to infusing, the leaves are small and uniform BOP flecked with a few petals. I can smell and taste the orange and there is an underlying sweet astringency of peaches although I can’t detect the flowers which is probably a good thing as I’ve gone off floral teas in a big way of late.

At any rate, I will have to see if this grows on me. The Tea Centre also sell a Stockholm blend in both standard black and blended with Pai Mu Tan which might be worth trying.

EDIT: On a recent splurge about a month or two ago, I purchased both the black Stockholm Blend and the Pai Mu Tan Stockholm blend and I have fallen completely in love with them both.

After a particularly god-awful day in the office – which wasn’t helped by the autumn rain making me all too painfully aware that the sole of one of my shoes had a gaping big hole in it – I had been looking forward to relaxing with a solacing and uplifting Ceylon. Unfortunately, my early evening pre-dinner cup of tea was just the latest in a long line of crappy mishaps today.

Come to think of it, I really should have been forewarned when I saw that the grade of the tea which was barely above fanning or dust. The colour is a deep, almost opaque, maroon which probably indicates that it has become bitter and as for the taste, acrid and metallic is probably what comes to mind. In fairness, I only realised afterwards that the tea should have been infused for three minutes rather than four, but I really don’t think a reduced infusion time would particularly improve the flavour as I really can’t taste anything except the tannin.

Courtesy of “The Story of Tea”, the Lover’s Leap estate comes highly recommended and I would think that this sample is just the dregs. I would be willing to try a better quality grade some time in the future.

Yunnan tea . . . somewhere, someplace, I had a magical cup of Yunnan which has lingered at the periphery of my consciousness. Rather frustratingly, I could never recall the time and place, or which estate the tea was sourced from. Or maybe I dreamt it . . . who knows . . . .

The Tea Centre in Sydney CBD offer three varieties of Yunnan black tea – an OP, a FOP and a finest FOP with varying degrees of tips. I had purchased the the FOP rather than the more expensive finest FOP but wasn’t overly impressed with it. This was a few months ago and within that time I don’t think I have had more than two or three cups.

I was rather intrigued by a two-cup sample at Adore Tea. Initially, I was under the impression that this was a green tea because of the colour and I had to check on their website. It is a very light, almost greenish grey and despite the item description, they are loosely rolled with no particular smell. The name “golden monkey” derives from its alleged resemblance to monkey claws but I can’t actually see this, nor can I detect the supposed flavours of nuts and chocolate.

The infused tea is a medium-strength flavour and full-bodied mouthfeel and deep-red colour. There is an element of smokiness with very little tannin and I can immediately see that this is where Russian Caravan derives its unique flavour; all the leading brands of Russian Caravan seem to be predominantly Yunnan tea blended with various other black teas. This is a nice, smooth blend with a vague whiff of the embers of a campfire in winter.

I will probably have to try this a few more times to see if I like it but I can imagine this as the perfect accompaniment on a clear, glacial autumn night.

When I first became a tea convert in the late 1990s, my essential teas were Twining’s Earl Grey, Prince of Wales, Irish Breakfast, Ceylon Orange Pekoe and Russian Caravan. I would only drink tea with milk as I found black tea to astringent and ‘coppery’; it was only in the last year or so I have enjoyed tea served black as I have gradually explored teas from different origins and experimented with serving sizes and steeping times. Unfortunately, Twinings just didn’t make the grade anymore but I still carried a sentimental soft spot for good old Russian Caravan which was grandfather’s drink of choice. I had picked up two Russian Caravan samples by Adore Tea – one ‘traditional’ (whatever that means) and one smoky to compare, and in the figurative game of heads-or-tails tonight, the smoky blend won.

The aroma from the tea pot is immediately and unmistakably identifiable as a lapsang souchong blend. I brewed this for three minutes rather than the usual four or five minutes for a milder taste. I have a love-hate relationship with smoked teas – sometimes I enjoy the intensity but other times I find it bothersome and I get rather fed up with the smoky taste I can’t get out of my mouth. I haven’t had a cup of LS for about six months at least.

The colour is a deep, reddish-bronze and I am drinking the tea black. One thing that has slipped my mind is how smooth a good-quality smoked tea can be. Perhaps smoking the tea leaves reduces the tannins somehow? I would estimate the Lapsang Souchong to be about 10-15% of the blend but there is no escaping the smokiness that overwhelms any nuances that may be present in the tea. Having said that, it is debatable whether anyone would actually use top quality tea to for a Lapsang Souchong or any other smoked tea in the first place. At any rate, I’m not sure how I feel about this tea. It’s not “bad” by any means, but I will have to try this several times over the course of a few months.

From what I understand, Russian Caravan was originally marketed as a complementary blend to Prince of Wales tea – whereas PoW was a blend of Keemun teas with Assam, RC was a blend of Keemun with Yunnan. I am sure that the ‘smoke’ is a recent modification.

For the second cup, I try this with soy milk, which for some purists is a heresy akin to Catharism. It’s a beautiful colour and has a lovely, smooth and creamy texture. The smokiness is still present in the foreground, but somewhat tempered with notes of chocolate and hazelnuts. I think I could actually quite get a liking for this although I don’t really care for the lingering smokiness. The after-taste continues to tingle on the tongue and I’m not sure if I like that aspect of it.

On balance, thumbs up for old smokey served with milk. Undecided for black.

As a recent convert to Darjeeling teas – my previous experience went no further than Twinings Darjeeling with a light lunch – I was quite looking forward to this.

I recall when I first arrived in London as a rather naive 23 year-old I was looking for my perfect cigarette – something that would invoke bygone eras of smoking jackets and private members’ clubs in St James Square. And so, I started smoking Mayfair and Pall Malls under the rather naive notion that such a fancy name would match its product, only to find that this was the house brand of the sink estates and dole queues.

The point of this rather self-indulgent rambling? Despite the name and despite being sold from a store in Mayfair, East India’s Ceylon and Darjeelings teas taste like some vile, adulterated product served in a service station cafe in the ninth circle of hell. I have, at least, a nice tin which I have filled with a 2nd Flush Darjeeling tea from the Tea Centre. Shame it cost me AUD$30 for the privilege.

Avoid.

East India Company sells a selection of their teas in the gourmet food section of a major Sydney department store. It immediately caught my eye with their nice little tins – printed directly onto the tin rather than the usual sticker on plain aluminium – and the name that evokes long-distant memories of the Raj and a life of decadent leisure.

I rarely throw away a cup of tea unless it is completely undrinkable or totally oversteeped, but after two mouthfuls this tea went down the sink. I absolutely adore Ceylon teas, but this was so acrid and full of tannin it tasted like burnt sugar and dishwater. The dubious honour of the worst tea I have ever tasted belongs to Fortnum & Mason Christmas Tea, but this is a very close second.

This two-cup sample from Adore Tea was just one of many chocolate-flavoured teas I purchased on a whim. Served with milk, I was, at first, a bit put off by the off-white colour rather than the typical deep, bronze of milk tea or at least the way we make it in our household. I don’t think that it was brewed weak as I could taste the flavourings, but it may benefit from being made with less water, if only for the sake of appearances.

This tea is pleasant enough, but nothing special compared to any other half-decent brand of flavoured ‘dessert’ tea. There was the definite taste of chocolate, but not nearly strong enough to appeal to those with a sweet tooth and not nearly bitter enough for the gourmets. The tea base is fine, but not particularly noticeable and I can barely taste the toffee or caramel apart from a trace of sweetness.

I am sure this tea will be fine for the milk-and-two-sugars set but if you’re looking for something stronger, sweeter or unique, you can safely give this a miss.

During one of the many wasteful hours spent browsing tea-related website on the internet, my interest was piqued by the idea of mango-flavoured tea. This is rather surprising as I never cared for mangoes – too sickly sweet for my liking, prefering, as in life, the bitter-sweet or the sweet-and-sour – which made me something of an oddity in Australia. It was seeing the rather cute little wooden tea-chests that Mlesna/Metropolitan Tea Company package their teas in that I decided to give it a try. Unfortunately, all of the Mlesna teas I have tried are rather disappointing with the possible exception of their Russian Caravan, so the mango tea remained untouched in the back cupboard under a mountain of tea that I have hoarded these last few months.

At the Adore Tea stall in Chatswood, Sydney I was tempted to give the mango tea another try as I was not wanting to waste the nice little Mlesna box. Their mango tea was one of about twenty two-cup samplers I have picked up over the last couple of weeks but haven’t got round to trying as yet.

The fragrance of the tea prior to infusing is that unmistakable, if somewhat overbearing, tropical smell of mango. The leaves seem to be standard broken orange pekoe, and flecked with shards of orange and yellow in various shades. After infusing in the standard manner – water just off the boil and left to stand for four minutes – the liquor is a deep, dark bronze and the aroma of the mango is muted.

Served black, this is a smooth, slightly sweet tea with no bitterness and slightly tingling sensation in the middle of the tongue. I can’t really place the origin of the tea base – at a guess, I would say a mix of Chinese black teas. Realistically, no one drinks flavoured teas for the actual tea so I wouldn’t say the lack of a definite identity or terroir is a negative unless it was ‘bad’ tea or I wasn’t actually able to taste the tea-flavour. In this case, the tea base is very mild and unremarkable but pleasant enough, and there is no bitterness or astringency.

Although I don’t think I will be drinking this every day, or even every week, this is definitely worth having again.

As much as I have always enjoyed a good cup of tea, my first exploration outside of the supermarket brands and traditional blends – not to mention my obsession with trying new teas and collecting tins and boxes – came only eight months ago via a tin of Harney & Sons Hot Cinnamon tea. The smell of cinnamon emanating from the tin, even as I stood one metre away from the shelf in the department store was too much to resist. Each cup, brewed with or without the addition of some stevia, had this incredible depth of flavour and warming heat from the spices and I went through the 20 sachets in now time. I didn’t immediately try to replace the tea as we were were in the grip of a sweltering Australian summer, but I did purchase – rather half-heartedly – some Rooibos tea flavoured with orange peel and spices from the Tea Centre in the Sydney CBD. The Rooibos with cinnamon just didn’t really do it for me, perhaps because the flavours didn’t seem to blend well or stand out particularly.

And so, moving on to another two-cup sampler courtesy of Adore Tea, this time Apple & Cinnamon. More so than the cinnamon, the smell of the apple – a typically dried apple aroma – dominates both the brewed and unbrewed tea. In terms of the flavour, there is a definite tingling sensation from the cinnamon which is tempered by the sweetness of the apples. It’s enjoyable enough on its own terms and I will perhaps indulge in the occasional cup, but I was really looking for an intense cinnamon flavour and aroma. Interestingly, I never cared for cinnamon as a child especially in the typical western-style cream- or custard-laden dessert; my conversion came via its use in savoury-style Indian and Ceylon dishes.

And now, as winter closes in here in Sydney, I find myself longing more and more for H&S Hot Cinnamon . . .

Since finishing the Harney & Sons Vanilla Comorro, I have tried several varieties of Vanilla-flavoured teas looking for my new favourite. The Mlesna tea didn’t particularly impress me. I had brewed some more of the Mlesna last night and I’ve decided I’m going to write it off and continue my search for the perfect cup of vanilla tea. After all, life is too short to drink bad tea.

After thirty years of drinking artificially flavoured ‘vanilla’ drinks and sweets, I have started to re-assess what vanilla actually tastes like. Perhaps I am expecting my vanilla tea to taste like the ‘vanilla’ in vanilla coke or ice cream and the natural extract may be nothing of the sort much like the artificially flavour of “liquorice” or aniseed sweets would give a false impression of chewing on a liquorice root or real aniseed. Wikipedia informs me that vanilla is the second most expensive spice after saffron – which would explain the proliferation of adulterated or artificially flavoured extracts – and should have somewhat floral, spicy aroma and savoury taste which I detected in the H&S Vanilla Comorro.

This afternoon, I have picked up a number of two-cup samples from Adore Tea in Chatswood including their black tea with vanilla. On a side note, I really wish T2 and The Tea Centre would provide samplers; although T2 has a handful of free teas in their shop, the smallest size available is 100gm and while the Tea Centre has 50gm sizes available, they charge a whooping $4-$5.00 to try a pot of one of their teas in the Sydney CBD store.

My first cup was served with soy milk and medium strong, served in my lovely Royal Doulton Moonlight Rose cup and saucer that I am obsessed with. The tea base is fine – reasonable quality leaf with a nice malty flavour. It takes a few sips for the vanilla flavour to develop but is somewhat muted by the soy milk.

The second cup is served black. The colour is a reddish-brown which is not overly inviting. I am unable to smell this “floral bouquet” that I am promised as the fragrance of the black tea is quite strong. At a guess, I would say a mix of Ceylon tea with maybe an Assam and/or a standard Chinese black tea. As to the flavour, I would characterise it as sweet and slightly spicy and ‘tingling’ like a dark chocolate tea, with a smooth if astringent texture, but perhaps overwhelmed by the tea base. The tannins in the tea are evident, but I wouldn’t describe it as bitter or unpleasant. I have noticed that just this two-cup sampler has produced a fair bit of sediment and dust.

The weakness of this tea is that the vanilla can’t stand up to the brisk tea base. I wouldn’t imagine that playing around with the quantities or brewing times would really change this, so the search for that elusive cup continues.

For the first time in years, however, I am craving a can of Vanilla Coke.