Tea Reviews | It's All About The Leaf

Posts Tagged ‘Preparation 1’

The NecessiTeas’ selection of rooibos teas reads like a decadent bakery menu. Chiffons and cocoas and various sweet temptations are elements of every item. My first sniff of the Orange Marzipan dry mix sent my taste buds crazy, craving sugar cookies with almond flavoring–because the almond is what hits you first, strong and sweet.

The heavy almond scent dissipates a little once you steep the tea. But rooibos is complemented well by sweetish flavors and the blend is still cookie-pleasant. Orange flavor is present, but stays modestly in the background.

As tea ingredients, oranges and almonds have the potential to turn on you if you don’t steep carefully–oranges go sour, almonds go bitter. But in the case of this culinary concoction, it’s all good; well balanced.

You can purchase the Orange Marzipan directly from the The Necessiteas website.

It doesn’t happen very often these days, but I would say about once every couple o’ months, something catches my eye in an “ooo shiny!” fashion. Okay, okay, I do that a lot…but not AS often with tea. I have a list saved as a Gmail draft that I call my “Tea WANT!” list. On it are several orthodox (and some plain out-there) teas that I hope to try someday. At present, I’ve notched off half of it. Some of the more difficult things were more easily obtained than I thought.

What’s this got to do with Shang Tea? Well, I ran across their operation via a tea social network called Steepster. (Think Facebook for cuppers.) Someone was waxing poetic about this black tea blend they recently tried. What caught my “shiny!” gland was the mention of tangerine blossoms. In case it isn’t readily apparent, I’m a tangerine fiend – been addicted to ‘em ever since I was a wee tot. I never knew those damn fruit trees had blossoms to them. Had I known, I would’ve built a fort out of ‘em.

Shang Tea is an operation out of Kansas City, MO. Other than being another brick-n-mortar tea shop in a mall, they have another thing to their credit. They own their own high-altitude tea garden in Fujian province, China. Their specialty happens to be Silver Needle white tea, but they also play around with the same cultivar to make red (or black) tea. This fermented option was blended with tangerine blossoms.

I bought a sampler pack that included this, along with several other white teas and blends. Needless to say, I first tore open the Tangerine Blossom black. Almost like an addict, even. It smelled beyond superb. Along with the slightly smoky/earthy black tea base was a scent similar to jasmine flowers and citrus rind – sweet yet floral. The tea leaves themselves were thin and twisty; the blossoms looked like – well – blossoms. Very…uh…blossomy.

The brewing instructions they recommended were a tad confusing, especially the measurements for the tea leaves. I skipped theirs and went with my own prep – 1 heaping teaspoon of leaves in 8oz of 205F water for three minutes. A bit light, sure, but it seemed the wisest approach.

The liquor brewed to a color that I would call “oolong amber”. The liquid aroma echoed the semi-fermented tea comparison with a fruity/lightly-astringent nose. As for taste, this completely floored me. It began with a regular Dian Hong-ish forefront that was immediately followed up with a strong citrus lean in the middle. That tapered off into a honey-floral aftertaste that simply lingered. I could find no fault with this blend. At all. It was perfect. I’m only upset that I’m all out of it now.

You can purchase the Tangerine Blossom Red Tea directly from the Shang Tea website.

We are on Week Umpteen of a Midwest heat wave with daytime temperatures no less than sizzling. Nighttime lows are at a refreshing slow roast. Thus, I selected Pineapple Paradise as the optimum tea for this particular season–the name evokes visions of hammocks, gently swaying palms, a stack of really good books at my side, and somebody subservient to bring me copious amounts of this tea, iced.

I’m a big sun tea fan in the summer, so I deduced that, following the double-up instructions on the packet, I could put a batch in my trusty Mason jar on the front porch of our miner’s shack (temporary residence–long story) and brew up a batch of tropical goodness. The dry mix smells great–minus the rose petals, the scent is a lot like a Caribbean dried fruit mix.

Unfortunately, the fine-grade green tea in this particular blend needs a little more care than I gave it. (Whatever you use for sun tea has to be pretty forgiving.) The fruit and floral flavors were present in the first batch, but due to my neglect, the green tea was bitter and ruined the “ahhhhh” experience I was hoping for. The second try, I did it properly: just a teaspoon, not-quite-boiled the water, a steep on the shortish side, and the results were much better. My taste buds are still playing “spot the pineapple” a little–the lemon and floral elements are pretty pronounced. But if you’re aiming for tropical instead of a single fruit flavor, this’ll hit the spot.

If this is a flavor combo that intrigues you, my recommendation is to steep it as directed for hot tea, chill it in the fridge, then chill with it on a lazy day.

You can purchase the Pineapple Paradise directly from the Boston Tea Company website.

When one takes a look at the little brown rice puffs peeking out from the tightly rolled spinach-y sencha, one would conclude that this is tea with an interesting backstory. Two histories are attributed to this tea; the first one being highly practical–housewives using a common household commodity to stretch expensive tea.

The second legend is much more colorful: the servant of a samurai tucked some grains of toasted rice in his sleeve to sneak a snack in between his duties. As he served his master’s tea, a few grains fell into the steeping cup. This attracted the ire of said samurai, who whipped out his blade and beheaded the poor peckish peasant. To his regret, the master discovered the brew he believed to be tainted was pretty doggone tasty.

Believe either, or neither, but if you’re a lover of out-of-the-ordinary green teas, this is one to taste. Steeped, it’s a luscious golden green and has a scent akin to a whiff with your nose stuck deep in a box of Rice Krispies. And instead of muting the flavor of the quality organically-grown sencha, the rice gives this bright and brassy brew a nice sweetness. Perhaps our remorseful samurai repented by writing a haiku in praise of this serendipitous discovery:

Snap, crackle, pop; rice
Enhances this tea’s flavor.
I’ll have one more cup.

You can purchase the Genmaicha Organic directly from the TeaFrog website.

The first thing I noticed was the beautiful blue flowers interspersed into this tea. They definitely added an enjoyable element to the presentation. Following the suggestions of the package, I steep this tea for two minutes, using three teaspoons of leaf (in a two-cup teapot). The water was heated to the point where small bubbles were forming on the bottom of the kettle.

I am really impressed by the aroma of this tea. I have drunk a few blueberry white teas before, most of which tasted immensely of blueberries, but in an almost-artificial manner. This tea is different. The blueberry flavour does not jump out at the drinker. Instead, it meshes well with the flavours of the Pai Mu Dan base. The blueberry flavours are everywhere throughout the tea, when it is first sipped and in the aftertaste, but the flavours do not dominate. Thankfully, they also do not underwhelm. It may sound like this is a lot to say to merely describe the way in which this tea is well-balanced, but it is my opinion that this tea deserves the accolades. I really enjoyed drinking this tea. It is indeed worthy of the 93/100 I give it on my personal enjoyment scale.

You can purchase the Blueberry White Tea directly from the TeaFrog website.