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I bought this 2025 Old Garden Sweet Dew to compare to the one from Camellia Sinensis. I was also intrigued by the fact that the tea is from heirloom bushes. This usually makes for a more interesting, unique flavour. I steeped 3 g of leaf in 250 ml of 185F water starting at 4 minutes, resteeping as needed until the tea faded.

The dry aroma is of chestnuts, bread, grass, and lemon. The tea starts out gently with notes of bread, chestnuts, lemon, apple, honeydew, cucumber, lettuce, and umami. In the middle steeps, the bread, nuts, lemon, honeydew, and cucumber are all very noticeable and the tea is sweeter than expected. I get a lovely honeydew aroma at the bottom of the cup. The cucumber starts becoming a little more bitter as the session goes on. I get little whiffs of some other fruit that I’m tentatively identifying as banana. The final steeps feature lettuce, cucumber, and grass and are not overly bitter.

This is a beautiful green tea with some unique fruity notes. It had good longevity and only became vegetal near the end of the session. It was well worth the high price tag, although I like other green teas from Seven Cups a bit more.

I’m still finishing off the ridiculous amount of green tea I bought this spring. Camellia Sinensis had two versions of Meng Ding Gan Lu this year, this being the first. The product description matched the one on this page almost exactly, so I’m including my tasting note here. I steeped 3 g of leaf in 250 ml of 185F water for 4 minutes, resteeping as needed until the tea faded.

The dry aroma is of nuts, bread, sweet corn, and flowers. The first steep has notes of hazelnut, bread, corn, kale, spinach, butter, and faint florals. This tea is fairly vegetal right off the bat. Further steeps reveal slightly more florals, plus grass, minerals, and what Togo calls lime. The tea is rather drying. The final steeps are grassy, nutty, mineral, and vegetal.

This is a nice enough green tea, but it gets too drying and vegetal to be a favourite. The hints of citrus and florals are fun, though.

This is the first Jin Jun Mei from Meng Ding I’ve come across, and I was curious enough to add 25 g to my last order. At around $20 CAD, it was much cheaper than the Zheng Shan Tang Jin Jun Mei from Lapsangstore I’ve had on my bucket list for a while, which comes in at an eye-watering US$155 for 50 g. I steeped 6 g of this much more humble tea in 120 ml of 195F water for 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds, plus some long, uncounted steeps.

The dry aroma of these black and gold fuzzy leaves is of heady roses, dark chocolate, and malt. The first steep features heady, realistic rose backed by bread, malt, dark chocolate, and brown sugar. I get more dark chocolate and some tannins in round two. The rose persists through the next couple steeps, with the addition of honey in the background. In steeps five and six, the rose starts to fade, leaving a tea with notes of bread, dark chocolate, malt, honey, and minerals. The tea is also a bit drying. By the eighth steep, the florals are evident but not specifically rosy. The final few steeps feature bread, malt, honey, earth, minerals, wood, and tannins.

As someone who enjoys floral teas, I was quite happy with this nontraditional Jin Jun Mei. The real JJM is supposed to have a strong rose component, and this fits that profile. Most affordable JJM emphasize malt, honey, and chocolate. These flavours can be nice, but there are lots of chocolatey teas out there that aren’t Jin Jun Mei. Though some might find it too perfumey, I like this tea and it seems to be high quality. I need to go through my tea museum to find the two other Jin Jun Mei I bought from this vendor back in 2023 or 2024 to see if they’re as good.

I ordered a mystery box from The Sweetest Dew, and this was one of the teas I got. This is a wok fried Mao Feng from Qimen, which is apparently saltier and more edamame forward than regular Mao Feng. Following some instructions on TeaForum, I steeped 3 g of leaf in 120 ml of nearly boiling water for 60, 70, 80, 90, and 100 seconds, plus 2, 3, 5, and 10 minutes.

The aroma of the dry leaves is of smoke, grass, and salted edamame. The first couple steeps are smokey, salty, sweet, and slightly drying, with vegetal notes similar to lettuce and edamame. Though I usually find smoke to be off-putting, this tastes like slightly charred barbecued veggies with lots of salt and is actually kind of fun. Steeps three and four are still smokey and saline while becoming more vegetal, with kale and asparagus added to the beans. By the next couple steeps, the smoke is mostly gone and the tea is increasingly vegetal, though still somewhat sweet. The final steeps have a light, vegetal flavour with some minerality.

It’s hard to give this tea a rating because it’s so far from what I’m used to drinking. However, I think it’s high quality and well worth trying if you know what to expect. The wok frying really comes forward in those first few steeps.

I’ve been drinking a lot of tea lately, but haven’t been posting tasting notes. For one thing, it’s been way too hot this summer, and for another, I’ve been drinking through some big packs of oolong. I bought a sample of this Tai Ping Hou Kui in my Seven Cups order this spring, and they generously gave me an entire 25 g bag. I steeped about 18 of these long, flat leaves in 250 ml of 185F water starting at 4 minutes, refilling the cup as needed until the tea faded.

The dry aroma of these big, beautiful leaves is of heady orchids, sap, and green beans. The first steep has notes of orchid, green beans, asparagus, butter, and sap. The tea is quite soft, though the flavours are fairly pronounced. In subsequent steeps, I get strong orchid notes, plus sweet pea, gardenia, peach, green beans, asparagus, grass, and sap. The final infusions are pretty vegetal, with notes of grass, green beans, and asparagus.

The tea has a great floral, peachy flavour and a spicy/sappy note that contrasts with it nicely. However, I didn’t think it had great longevity and the taste wasn’t particularly complex. While I liked it more than the TPHK I bought from Teavivre last year, I’m not sure I need this tea in my life every spring.

After much agonizing over tariffs, I decided to go ahead and order various green teas from Seven Cups. My decision was motivated by the amazing First Pluck Bi Luo Chun I bought from them last year. The thought that I wouldn’t get to taste that tea again for another four years made me sad, so I decided to ask Canada Border Services for more information. It turns out Canada’s tariffs are only charged on U.S.-made products, not products from other countries, so I made my order and hoped for the best. The package arrived in record time and with no tariffs attached!

I’ve never had this tea before and I was intrigued by its history, lovely appearance, and interesting tasting notes. I steeped 3 g of leaf in 250 ml of 185F water for 3 minutes, then added water as needed until it was steeped out.

The dry aroma of these long, mostly straight leaves is of peas, honey, lemon, and flowers. The tea starts out vegetal, with notes of peas, cucumber, arugula, and chives, followed by lemon and honey. The aftertaste is sweet, vegetal, and floral. In subsequent steeps, lemon, honey, and wildflowers gain more prominence, though I still get peas and that spicy, herbaceous note. The tea never becomes overly bitter or astringent. The final steeps still feature lemon and flowers, though the veggies are more apparent and there are spinach and mineral notes.

As I’ve come to expect from this vendor, this is a high-quality, unique green tea. I like the lemon and balanced sweetness. The tea feels very springlike without being all about the veggies.

I picked up a sample of this tea in my last Camellia Sinensis order. This company has a few unusual black teas that I’ve been interested in trying, and this hongcha from Guizhou is one of them. I steeped 6 g of leaf in 120 ml of 195F water for 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds, plus some long, uncounted steeps.

The glossy, rolled dry leaves have aromas of honey, malt, bread, and florals. The first steep has notes of buckwheat honey, malt, bread, florals, faint tannins, zucchini, and unripe red berries. Honey, sour/unripe berries, tannins, and malt are even more prominent in the next steep. The tannins are fuzzy in the mouth and I get something reminiscent of rye bread. The next couple steeps have notes of bread, malt, honey, and florals, with faint berry and plummy fruitiness and some astringency. Steeps five and six are similarly full of honey, rye bread, and tannins, with some floral hints and something vegetal that I’ve called zucchini. By steep seven, the tea loses its fruitiness and focuses on honey, lots of malt, rye bread, tannins, and minerals. The end of the session has notes of malt, honey, minerals, and earth.

This is a nice breakfast-type tea that is a bit heavy on the tannins for me. I wish I could detect a little more fruit and that the malt was less overbearing. This is not a bad tea, just not the one for me.

I typically don’t like to write more than one review of a tea unless it’s changed substantially from harvest to harvest. However, this Mi Lan Xiang hongcha is so good that I’m breaking this rule. I called it the best black tea I drank in 2017, and while I might not go that far now, it’s still among the most balanced, comforting, tasty black teas in my collection. I get honey, caramel, pastries, grapefruit, florals, and a touch of malt, along with red berries and cocoa in some steeps. There’s a little astringency to give it body, but not enough to be bitter or detract from the smoothness. I can mindlessly chug this tea while working, which is a mistake since there are so many flavours to eke out.

Along with the Wild Lapsang Souchong from Wuyi Origin, this is one of my desert island teas. Both of these teas are fruity, smooth, and easy drinking while remaining complex enough to repay closer study. It’s too bad it’s $28 for 50 g, but I just might buy more anyway.

I’m finally nearing the end of my huge envelope of samples from Nio. It’s been fun trying these different Japanese green teas, which is something I wouldn’t have done otherwise. Genmaicha is a nice toasty tea for this cold, blustery weather, and it will be interesting to see if the gyokuro will make a noticeable difference in the flavour. I followed the vendor’s instructions and steeped 5 g of leaf in 150 ml of 203F water for 30, 60, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds.

The dry aroma is of toasted rice, nuts, spinach, and umami. The first steep has notes of slightly charred toasted rice, spinach, grass, and umami. I can see why people compare genmaicha to popcorn! The second, one-minute steep produces a somewhat bitter infusion featuring roast, toasted rice, kale, spinach, grass, and umami. The third steep is similar, though the fourth mellows out into toasted rice, nuts, butter, and grass. The final two steeps are full of toasted rice, nuts, butter, and roast, with faint grass and spinach. All six steeps are pleasantly smooth and starchy, possibly from the rice.

As expected, this is a comforting winter tea. I’m not sure the gyokuro produced a noticeably different taste than sencha, though I’d have to do a side-by-side comparison to be sure.

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This Dancong from 2023 was about $1 per gram, though it was slightly cheaper for me since I bought it during a Black Friday sale. Dong Fang Hong seems to be a pricier Dancong type for some reason, possibly due to scarcity. I steeped 6 g of leaf in 120 ml of 195F water for 7, 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds, plus some long, uncounted steeps.

The dry aroma is of charcoal, roast, oakwood, incense, honey, and citrus. The first steep has notes of oakwood, charcoal, roasted nuts, butter, and minerals. The tea is fairly drying. The next steep adds honey, orange peel, and incense, and the freshly cut wood smell is very noticeable. I get a kiwi and honeydew aftertaste that lasts for minutes. Steeps three and four add almond, honeydew, minerals, orchids, and other unidentifiable florals. In the next four steeps, the roasted almond, oakwood, honey, and minerals take over, with slight honeydew and orange in the aftertaste. The tea is developing a silky texture and there’s no real bitterness, just the roast and minerality. The next few steeps are very similar. The only thing of note is the lush honeydew aftertaste, which lasts for minutes after I drink the tea. The final steeps emphasize roasted almonds, minerals, tannins, wood, charcoal, and faint honeydew in the aftertaste.

This Dancong was a lot more enjoyable than I expected, even though the roast is more prominent than in the Baiye. The honeydew aftertaste is lovely, and the tea never gets too bitter. I even like the pronounced notes of freshly cut oak that I get near the beginning of the session. It’s amazing how much this tea has developed after just over a year of aging.