89 Tasting Notes
Black and green tea, hibiscus, apple, mango, orange… I don’t know why I thought I’d like this one. I hate hibiscus and I hate hot fruit. This is literally an amalgamation of all the things in life that I don’t like. The only way this tea would be less appealing to me would be if there were bees in it. It’s actually really unfair of me to rate something that’s so incredibly unsuited to my taste. I’m sure it’s a perfectly lovely tea for people who enjoy hibiscus and/or hot fruit. It’s just not for me.
I grew up with two kinds of tea: Red Rose and Twinings Earl Grey. Every night around 7 p.m., my dad would ask everyone in the family if we’d like a cup of tea, and 99% of the time, I chose the Red Rose. So, I grew up with Orange Pekoe, and thus, I am very, very fond of this tea. It’s the flavour of Red Rose, tidied up and amplified. This is my hug-in-a-cup tea, and it suits all my wildly varying moods. Who doesn’t love Orange Pekoe, though?
Soooooo super good, and I’ve not yet acquired a taste for pu’erh. Were I a more refined human being, I’m sure I’d have oodles to say about the sublime earthiness and so on and so forth, but even my father says that I’m no shrinking violet. Thankfully, I find that the chocolate orange flavour mostly overpowers the taste of the pu’erh itself, so it pretty much just tastes like a Terry’s chocolate orange, liquified. Great and good. A keeper.
I find this one needs to steep for a good long time before the maple is readily apparent, but, in that it’s a rooibos, there’s no reason to worry about that. It’s sweet, but I don’t feel like I’ve got diabetes after I finish a cup (yeah, I’m lookin’ at you, Red Velvet), so that’s ideal.
The first time I tried this, I noticed a metallic aftertaste and thought, “TWO THUMBS DOWN!” because I’m funny like that. I wrote it off for a long time, but then took it upon myself to try it again recently, and… yeah, I’m pretty sure the aftertaste thing was my own damn fault. Steep this one appropriately, or pay the price. When it’s done right, it’s a fun, caramel-corn blend that suits me when I’m in a wacky mood.
Surprise! Hot fruit is not normally my thing. Like, poached pears. Ew. Fortunately, this tea has nothing to do with poached pears, but everything to do with apple pie, and that’s the sort of hot fruit that I can totally get behind. I thought I wouldn’t like it because actual pie has the advantage of crust, which is a handy distraction from the hot fruit aspect. Happily, I was wrong. Literally, this tastes like apple pie filling, liquified, and I think that’s just dandy.
Didn’t like this one the first time I tried it, but after hearing a friend rave about it being her favourite, I thought I’d give it another chance. Well, what do you know. It’s actually pretty good. Not as chocolatey as I’d prefer, but my sweet tooth needed a root canal after it rotted away from all the sugar I was eating. This is to say, my bar for “chocolatey enough” is set pretty high. Anyway. It’s not one of my go-to’s, but if somebody was like, “Here, I made you a cup of tea” and handed me this, I wouldn’t be sad about it.
“Citrus and mint and flowers. Very pleasant. Good hot, better iced. Refreshing and unusual.” So say my initial notes on this one. I stand by my assertion of its deliciousness. Unfortunately, I’ve noticed this one gives me heartburn, because I’m an old lady and I’m prone to such things. I can only assume it’s the gooseberries. Alas.
