Samovar

Giving this one another go with the hope that, now that I know the rooibos taste in it isn’t evil, I can pick up some other things going on in the tea. So far so good – along with rooibos, I smell a twinge of cinnamon and some sweet something or other that is almost (but not quite) fruity. While the cup sits next to me to cool, I’m getting a clove-like smell. And something like cooked carrots. Don’t know why.

Sipping, I still get a lot of rooibos but I’m getting at least one other taste as well – cloves. It comes in more on the front and it’s nice. There are other spices that are obviously there but I can’t really pick out what they are. But it adds a nice fullness to the taste. As it cools I’m getting even less of a rooibos taste and more of just a spicy swirl on wood. It’s sweeter but for once with rooibos, sweetness doesn’t make me think of moldy/sour wood.

I don’t think this tea is ever going to be something that I crave (too rooibos for that) but it’s certainly one I enjoy. And since I typically detest anything with rooibos, I think it’s safe to say that those that actually like rooibos would really enjoy this one.

4g/12oz

Like yesterday, today I fell asleep right after I got home from work. Unlike yesterday, I woke up before it was time to go to bed, so I was determined to have some tea. Since it is so late, I am skipping my first choice of Kukicha (caffeine, you know) and thought I’d give this a shot. Takgoti sent me some knowing I wasn’t a fan of rooibos, but I had such success with Scarlet Sable, she wanted me to try it. I’m pretty much always game for trying new things.

The dry tea smells like A-1 Steak Sauce. Seriously. Sweet and a little tangy. I also smell wood in there which I’m pretty sure is the rooibos but it doesn’t smell like sour wood so thumbs up to that. After pouring the now brewed tea into my cup, the main smell I’m getting is of wood. Again, not sour wood, so that’s good. I can get hints of other stuff going on smell-wise, but honestly, I just keep focusing unintentionally on the rooibos and missing out on the other stuff. I think I’m keeping an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t stab me in the back.

And now to the tasting. To me, this tastes exactly like it smells (well, not the steak sauce smell). Rooibos rooibos rooibos with a little something tingly going on on the tip of my tongue. That being said, it’s not a sour wood rooibos taste. It’s woody and the spices add a nice depth to it, keeping it from being flat tasting. And now that I’ve determined that the rooibos in this is not evil, I seem to be getting other tastes from the tea. Sweet and a little spicy (just to the level of a warm tingle, not an actual burn).

I’ll admit, I’m not fully sure how to rate this. The dominant taste is rooibos but not a bad rooibos so I can’t hate it, even if I wanted to. I actually really like this. But it’s taking me a bit to get over the mental block of rooibos = evil. This is certainly something drinkable and I like having non-caffeine options so it totally gets points for that. I’m giving it a tentative score right now but depending on how future meetings so, I could see this possibly going up.

So all in all, not the total win Scarlet Sable was but by far the most successful rooibos adventure I’ve had!

Great herbal blend. The hints of licorice linger on the palette long after you’ve taken a sip. The rooibos does have that warm-tingly feeling that makes it a great pre-bedtime blend. Unlike most herbals, this blend is not an “In your face” kind of deal. The flavors meld well together and don’t overpower each other.

Alright. After a little bit of advice from Takgoti, I decided to steep this stuff much longer. After about 5 minutes, the depth and character of this tea is much more accessible. The smooth and lingering sweet profile is definitely there now.

My first true pu-erh experience. So far I’m fairly satisfied. I just received a small tin of this along with Samovar’s small Yixing clay pot. Right off the bat, the smell is out of this world. Very earthy and sweet. However, I’m a bit concerned that I brewed this pu-erh incorrectly. I can’t seem to get much of a taste out of this so far. I’ve been through about 6-7 resteeps and I only get a miniscule amount of taste/mouthfeel and just a tiny bit of sweetness. I used about a tablespoon of leaves with boiling water each time, including the quick rinse at the beginning. Steep for about 30-45 seconds each time, about 60 seconds on the last steep. Any recommendations on how to nail down the preparation on this? Maybe I’m just used to the full on flavors of their black/oolong blends. Or am I missing something?

Samovar = serious master blenders. I mean that. Man.

So, I was trying to figure out what I would drink today, and I searched through takgoti’s Magic Box of Wonderful Tea that she sent me. I figured I’d drink my lucky number (#12) and came out with this little number. Blood Orange Pu-erh. Interesting.

I’m not the biggest fan of oranges. I don’t mind the flavor of them, but the texture kind of grosses me out. The pulpy membrane… eesh. And since citrus tends to upset my stomach, I tend to avoid them. But this one smells pretty interesting, and it’s a pu-erh, so I decided to give it a go.

The dry leaves are that thick, heavy-looking black leaf splotched with brown that usually sings pu-erh to me! There are chunks of orange rind and seeds (I think?) and pieces of ginger. The entire concoction smells like dark citrus. Not bright, sunny morning, Florida-weather-orange. More mysterious and exotic, with an earthy base and spiciness from the ginger. Mmmm.

So I actually rinsed this one, which was a first for me. I had no idea how to go about this, so I poured about 6 oz. of boiling water over the leaves and left it for about 15 seconds, then dumped it. Fresh boiling water over it again, and then the actual steep… almost immediately the water started turning that signature dark, pu-erh color. The bits of dried fruit began to puff up, and swirl around the pot.

Then it came time for the pour! And boy, is this dark. I just love the color of pu-erh. I can’t see the bottom of my cup, at all. It looks like a bruised-black, and the smell coming from it… the smell is complex. I’m getting mostly deep blood orange notes, accented by a bit of ginger, and then a smoke-like earth component.

I raised my spoon, and took the first sip. Let me pause for a second, for a big, “Mmmmmm!” Even though I finished my cup about 10 minutes ago, the flavors are still echoing in my mouth in big ways, and it’s great.

The blood orange is definitely the body of this flavor, and it’s almost rich and satisfying. It’s an almost brassy note, if I had to color it, very strong and full, but never overwhelming. It’s not really sweet, or tart, but wonderfully and distinctively orange. You’d never mistake it for anything else. The ginger really creeps in at points, with a spicy, warming quality, that pairs wonderfully with the citrus of the orange flavors. The pu-erh is not really the focal point here, but it really does its job of holding the tea together and grounding it in the earth. I think that’s what really makes this one special. It’s dark and rich and deep, reminded me of moss and deep forest.

Pu-erh to me, is a liquid manifestation of earth. I don’t really associate it with a dirt-like flavor, but I tend to think of it more as a mushroom, or a truffle. Rich and satisfying and delicious.

I’m really a bit surprised at how much I like this one, since I’m not one to truly love citrus, and I wasn’t sure how flavored pu-erh was going to go. But it’s an absolute, clear winner, and I was happy to share the morning with this cup! Another big victory for Samovar! And takgoti as well, for sending me some of this delicious stuff!

I’m having to taste around to explore my new found love of Yunnan. This one’s leafs are a little darker than the one I had before and not as fuzzy, if that’s an OK word to describe tea leafs. The color is really nice, and the taste is good. I think it’s not quite as smooth as the other one I had, but I’m still new with this tea. I’ll try it again later and see if I change my mind. I do like a good round tea though no matter what the type.

Sampled the 4 Seasons at the Yerba Buena location. Lovely. Smooth, buttery, floral and it just kept getting better with each steep. Each infusion was 30 seconds long… dont know water temp since it was brought to the table.

I finished off the last of this sample using a little sugar and half & half. Now, instead of it making me think of a rose tea, it’s sweeter and juicier – more fruit-like – with a light floral/rose finish. Samovar’s Russian Blend has lychee in it and with the additives, I’m finally tasting the sweet fruit taste in this that I get from that blend. I’m bumping this rating up a little because, while it’s a bit too rose for me straight, I’m really loving it all doctored up.

I’ve only had one other lychee black tea and I have no idea what lychee tastes like (or lychee blooms smell like). So yeah, slight handicap when rating this tea. On top of that, my brain has yet to fully engage this morning. So take this review with a grain of salt.

The taste is nicely floral. I’m not a huge fan of rose teas and this is very similar to a rose tea, but it’s probably the smoothest, least perfume-y rose-tea-like tea I’ve had. I didn’t really taste the lychee fruit, just the rose-esque finish, but the tea was lightly sweet so I’m thinking that’s the lychee aspect coming through. The tastes of the tea and lychee/rose combine nicely so it doesn’t seem like tea is overlaid with perfume.

Because I’m not a huge rose fan this isn’t something that I’d have to have, but it is very nice to drink and I enjoyed it.

I enjoy how the smooth, earthy, almost cocoa-y Yunnan contrasts with the fresh, clean, slightly tart (but not really) lemon. It’s really delightful. I find it a very relaxing tea – smooth and silky enough to make me release some tension, but the lemongrass gives it a nice fresh taste that makes me feel calmly alert instead of ready to take a nap. I still maintain what I said in my previous tasting note that this tea is very much not a normal type flavor for me – I’m not one for putting lemon in my tea. But the flavors work together so wonderfully that it really is enjoyable to sip on. It brings me subtle joy.

3g/8oz

The dry leaves smell like Lemon Pledge but surprisingly I mean that in a good way. It smells less like cleaning product and more like my house has been cleaned with something fresh. Which is always nice. I’m actually a little disappointed that the liquid tea doesn’t smell as lemony fresh. But then I get a few more sniffs in and you know, I’m really not upset. Because it does smell lemony fresh. But earthy. Dark but clean and fresh.

The taste is really quite interesting. The lemon is lessened to where it is a fairly balanced match for the tea, making the two tastes combine so tightly it is hard to separate them. So I have a Yunnan – dark, silky, cocoa-ish – that ends up being crisp, clean and almost light tasting. It reminds me a bit of the Fuijian Baroque I had (was that yesterday?) except there is a bit more backbone to this tea and the flavors are more nuanced and intriguing. There’s even a little spice flavor at the end and I’m pretty sure it is from the Yunnan because the more I sip, the more it shows up as a strong peppery taste. Not overwhelmingly pepper, just an honest to goodness pepper burn. There’s also a nice sweet but almost tart (pleasantly tart, that is) lemon whoosh to my mouth post sip. The lemon whoosh and the pepper spice seem to trade off as the main end taste but they aren’t fighting about it. These are very gentlemanly, civil taste and they have no problem taking turns. Good flavors. Play nice.

I’ll be honest – this tea is kind of blowing my mind. And this is where rating difficulty comes in. (Why does Samovar always do this to me???) I have no idea what to give this because honestly, it’s an awesome tea. There is so much detail in the taste and it is balanced so perfectly. Really good. But I’ve never been one to put lemon in my tea so it’s a pretty new taste for me to get used to and I don’t know ultimately how much I will end up craving this tea. Anyway, I’m going to rate it for right now with the caveat that I might end up bumping this up in a few days. I’m pretty sure it won’t be going down.

I actually bought a yuzu in preparation for this tea. After all, how can I comment on a flavored tea if I don’t know what the flavor is supposed to taste like? I ate my yuzu early this morning so thought today was a great time to try this one. I enjoyed the fruit so I hope to enjoy this tea. The tea doesn’t smell quite like fresh yuzu, but it is still noticeably yuzu. The brewed tea smells even less like yuzu – the initial smell is of fresh, vegetal sencha and there’s a little tingle of yuzu underneath.

The taste is intriguing. I didn’t get a noticeable yuzu flavor until I took a few sips one after the other. It seems like the yuzu taste builds but seems to come through the most in the aftertaste. But now I’m getting it some on the very tip of my tongue as I begin to sip. It’s a surprisingly good counterpoint to the sencha. I wouldn’t have thought the yuzu would go well with the sweet, buttery and vegetal taste of the sencha, but it does. It adds a subtle citrus sharpness that keeps the sencha from being too rich or thick.

I’m not quite sure how to rate this. I keep expecting this to taste rich and thick but each sip surprises me with a clean, refreshing citrus flavor. So I can’t quite figure out how high I want to rate this. Somewhere in between the two green smileys but not sure where… Though a big point it this teas favor is the aftertaste – sweet, citrus and buttery. Good stuff.

I neglected to smell the dry leaf, but the leaf post-steeping smells super-roasty. The liquid smells very light, but similar. And when I say very light, I mean very light.

Taste-wise, this is surprising. I was expecting something sweet and it is, but I was expecting sweet flowery and this is more sweet starchy. Actually, it tastes like a diluted version of the liquid in the canned sweet corn niblets we used to get before I knew that, you know, corn was evil. (And I did love that corn juice so). But there is a slightly different note – a deeper, darker, more intense note – that the canned sweet corn juice didn’t have. I can’t quite place it but I’m guessing it is the roasted walnut bit they have in the flavor profile.

For such a light colored and scented tea, the tastes are very dark. It’s good but the connection my mind has made to corn is throwing me off. In my world, corn = evil. So I sip this and go “mmm, dark… sweet… oh crap, corn – EVIL!”

As it cools I’m getting more of the walnut taste (it definitely is the walnut they mention in the profile – it’s screaming walnut now but I’m not getting as much of the roasted as just straight walnut) than the corn taste and that helps with my mental aversion to it but I think I’ve already got a strong mental block against this tea so even switching to a more walnut taste isn’t making me enjoy it. The last few sips are sweet again but mixed nicely with the walnut. But again, the sweet flavor is very corn-sweet.

After thinking on it some, I’m not rating this tea. Because it’s too mixed up in my head with the evils of corn so nothing I give it would be fair. The walnut sweetness is really nice and the flavors are truly lovely so it deserves at least a green smiley but the corn connection make me think red icky face. But neither the green smiley face or red icky face would be an accurate representation of my experience with this tea. Sorry, I’m just too prejudice against the diluted sweet corn juice to rate this accurately.

I’ll be honest. I’ve been avoiding this tea. Why? Because it is awesome. No really. I just don’t have a lot of this tea and it is just gorgeous, so I’ve tried to save it for when I can really appreciate it. Soft and earthy, it’s on the delicate side for a Yunnan. But it’s got such a great flavor. Sweet potato and brown sugar and fruit and dark honey-ish tastes swirl around on top of the gently earthy Yunnan base note. This is a tea that I have to make sure I have time to taste properly because there is so much wondefulness going on that I don’t want to miss it. I just want to sip it and stare at the wall, appreciating the flavors.
2.6g/6oz

The leaves are so cute – like the smaller, golden cousin of Downy Sprout. And the smell? Like cocoa powder. I’m not used to brewing blacks at such a low temp but I’m gonna go with it because that’s what takgoti says the tin says and honestly, given how delicate and fuzzy the leaves look? I can see the need for cooler water.

The tea smells insane. I smell different things with each whiff. Honey, molasses, sweet potato, earth, cocoa… Buttered sweet potato pops up the most frequently with molasses as a close second.

Oh my god. The taste. It’s gorgeous and there is no way that my description will do it justice. First off, it is sweet – like raw sugar or molasses or cane syrup. Then there is a taste towards the back of my tongue that is basically sweet potato. Perhaps a sweet potato dripping in butter. But that implies a heaviness or thickness that isn’t there. Instead, this is soft and beautiful – like listening to a string instrumental. It makes me want to just close my eyes and listen to what my taste buds have to say.

The second steep (@3:30) is a little darker flavored… a little more sweet potato, a little softer on the raw sugar. Still fresh and rich and delicate and flavorful and beautiful.

This tea literally wowed me. More than once. Quite simply, it is beautiful. This tea is an experience. So. Good.

Auggy threw down the gauntlet and said to me, “Drink this tea!” She knows how I have a very finicky relationship with lapsang and Earl Grey. A marriage of two flavor profiles that if I had a choice to take it or leave it, I’d leave it. Could this tea that combines both potentially be my kyptonite?

Obviously from my rating, it isn’t. So I’m going to talk about it a bit.

Scarlet Sable is a pretty name, and this is a very pretty tea. Large, wiry black leaves, intermingled with bits of red rooibos. The entire concoction smells like lapsang spiked with lemon. It actually smells really good. But then again, I think that both lapsang and Earl Grey smell amazing. It’s the taste that always gets me.

So I steep this one up, getting more and more nervous the darker the tea becomes. I’m waiting for a potent brew that will knock me halfway across my house, singe my eyebrows off, and have me crawling to my computer to just log, “HALP.”

I take the first sniff. Lapsang, but it’s not very overpowering. That smokey barbecue sweet followed by a light lemon smell. Bright and dark at the same time, and very, very confusing. So I stuck my spoon into the tea (yes, I drink tea with a spoon), and took a big slurp.

That’s when the confusion really set in. At first we had a cedar-pine-smoke taste, that campfire smell that explodes on the tongue. But this quickly dissolves into bergamot. The more floral end of bergamot, but very light and bright and citrus-like. Towards the tail end of the flavor there’s a bit more lapsang, but it’s sweeter and mixed with a fruit-like note, and this gives way to more lemon-like bergamot…

I’m getting dizzy just thinking about it. Somehow the flavors merge, but they also cycle and battle each other in my mouth until I’m not really sure who wins. And somehow, this really bizarre concoction manages to taste better than both a typical Earl Grey and a typical lapsang! I think it’s because both flavors are so intense, that they cancel each other out, and create something that is far less aggressive. Instead of getting a full-brunt explosion of either lapsang or Earl Grey, they’re both muted by each other, and provide a much more satisfying cup. Dare I say that this one is actually… light at points? And entirely sippable? Yeah, I said it.

And in an odd way, it almost tastes like barbecued lemon chicken!

But you know what? It’s Samovar, and I’m starting to understand that Samovar = quality. takgoti sent me some of this to spread the Samovar gospel, and I think I’m going to be one of her disciples, cause this stuff is good. And there’s no way I should even remotely like this. So thanks, tak-tak, and thanks, Auggers, for goading me on to try this bizarre, but weirdly addictive, tea!

I love the smell of this. Sweet and smoky and spicy, it tingles in my nose like menthol. The citrus makes it clean and refreshing and the pine flavor (from a Keemun, I’m guessing) pokes a bit to do the same – not unpleasantly, just in a clean, walking-through-a-quiet-forest-during-a-brisk-autumn way. The lychee and lapsang (I’m assuming since that’s exactly what it smells and tastes like) combine to make it sweet, the lapsang and the rooibos make it smoky, woody and warm. This tea makes me think of a forest in fall – beautiful in a brown, earthy way, crisp and clean and perfect for a small campfire for ambiance.

This tea really seems to sparkle either in a smaller cup (8oz vs. my previous 12oz) or else done at boiling instead of just under. The woodsy note is the solid base of the tea but the hotter water (or smaller cup) really let the sweeter flavors dance. The citrus and sweet flavors pop just a bit more, making the tea really full flavored and just delightful. This is really just a fantastic tea. Love it so.
3.0g/8oz

Smoky, sweet, complex, fruity, spicy… I’m so glad I have a tin of this coming to me from Samovar (should get her today actually – yay!). It’s smooth bold but not stout or heavy – I can easily see this becoming a favorite comfort tea. In fact, it might already be. Could even go heavier on the leaf. I don’t think this would oversteep easily, just get bolder.
4.6/12oz

Sick, stuffy and tired might not be the best time to try a new tea, but looks like that’s not going to stop me. I’ve been trying to have this tea for a few days but one thing or another comes up. But now with the massive amounts of tea I’m attempting to have today (and succeeding nicely, thanks), I can throw this one in to the mix.

The dry leaves smell surprisingly spicy. Smoky and almost a little ‘whoosh’-y menthol-y. There’s also a darker sweetness. I’m getting whiffs of the rooibos but the wood doesn’t smell sour – it blends very nicely with the other dark, spicy, earthy smells going on in this tea. All brewed up, I can smell the rooibos more distinctly but it is combined with what smells like lapsang souchong and a warm spicy smell. I’m thinking it is the pine from the tasting notes but possibly the citrus is bolstering the spicy bit of it.

And wow, the taste is surprising. There is so much lapsang souchong in the smell that I was really expecting that to be the main taste but it isn’t. Instead it is fruity sweet with a warm spicy to it followed by a bit of wood taste that must be the rooibos. But it doesn’t have the moldy wood taste that normally sticks out of flavorings like a sore thumb. Instead, it all combines nicely – the rooibos wood flavor is like the trellis and the other flavors are little vines, twisting and weaving around and through it. Bright little flowers of citrus pop through the smoky clouds occasionally and spark thoughts of an Earl Grey.

This tea is nuts. There is so much going on but it is all so effortless. It doesn’t seem forced or clunky or unwieldy, but instead like beastly-looking dancers gracefully twirling on a dark stage.

And wow, with that I think I officially need to stop. The mental exhaustion is obviously too much for my simple mind. But yeah, I don’t think I’ve tasted something like this tea before. If you don’t like lapsang souchong, I’d say you wouldn’t like this. At all. Very woodsy and smoky. But if you like smoky, dark, intense teas? This one is pretty awesome.

So much love to takgoti for sending me this. So. Much. Love.

(ETA: Second steep – more citrus, less smoky, just as much love.)

My first review on Steepster! Hopefully first of many…

I initially got this tea because it sounded like one of the more “normal” teas that Samovar offered, and after trying many of their more exotic options, I decided to give this a try as well.

Let’s see how I manage to express my experience with this… They say that this is the perfect ex-coffee drinkers convert tea that helps them wake up in the morning. I’d say I’d have to agree. This is pretty similar (but obviously different, as what would be the point if it tasted like coffee) and it does give a little bit of a kick, but not too much. I drink it black, as I have been doing with pretty much all of the teas I have been trying. I tried adding sugar a few times to some of them but I decided no matter how little I added, the sugar would somehow overpower the taste of the tea. I want to taste the tea, not the sugar.

Anyways, for $12 for a large can, this is a great deal especially because you can re-steep it a few times throughout the day. I think I can usually manage a good 4 steeps out of it before it starts to get thin. It’s a good alternative tea for me in the morning when I feel that I’ve had too much Maiden’s Ecstasy during the week. ;)

If grass could be baked into buttery croissants, the taste would come something close to this. It’s so fresh and creamy and outdoorsy. Sublime.

Wow, I can’t believe that I’m the first one logging this one!

I think this tea just cemented Samovar in my mind as one of those must-order-from companies. I’m serious.

The dry leaves are beautiful and long, accented by gold tips. It’s very pretty, and looks pretty luxurious. And the smell… earthy and deep and delicious. I could stick my nose in the little container and sniff all day, and I’d be the happiest girl.

So I steeped this one up, and boy, does it brew dark. Pu-erh dark. In fact, a lot of things about this one remind me of a pu-erh, but in a wonderful, wonderful way. Almost like pu-erh and black tea made babies and out came Ancient Gold.

I had my nose stuck in the infusion almost as much as the dry leaves. It still smells deep and dark but now I’m smelling a raisin-sweet component and I’m salivating. SERIOUSLY. Salivating.

So I take the first sip, and my first thought is, “WHAT?” Another sip. “WHAT.” Again. This one is a surprise, a shocker, in a lot of ways, and so deep and complex… and WONDERFUL. My mind is all ajumble. And I keep pausing to sip this some more, because I just can’t get enough right now…

The front of the flavor is all earth. Rich, dark soil earth. Sort of like a pu-erh earth. Good, clean earth. Mmmm. Which extremely quickly gives way to malty robustness. But this is nothing like any malt I’ve ever tasted before. Normally I associate malt-type flavors with rough, rugged edges. This is almost elegant in its smoothness. Like I just plucked a street urchin off a back alley and pampered him up and presented him to the aristocracy. And it’s three years later and I can still pick him out in the crowd, but I’m SHOCKED at how different he is. Ridiculously smooth. Unlike anything I’ve ever tasted before, in my life, pretty much.

Then there’s the slow sweetness that begins to creep up, and it’s a wonderful, deep sweetness. Like molasses or raisins. More than likely raisins. It’s not really sugary, but sweet in a very dark, multi-faceted way. Not that it’s murky, but it’s a low note. Not even a cello. A bass note.

At points there’s hints of an almost peppery-Yunnan-like taste. At other points, I’m getting an almost lapsang-like smokiness. I keep concentrating with each sip, because I’m just so darned FLABBERGASTED as to how this is all going on in a cup of tea.

The weirdest thing is that I feel like I’m even tasting things with my tonsils in this tea. Yes, with my tonsils. I cannot even begin to describe this, but towards the back of my throat I’m picking out these notes of saltiness and it’s altogether bizarre. A good salty, like salted caramel (not the caramel, but that type of sweet playing with salt). And now I’m keeping my mouth open like a fish and inhaling and exhaling, trying to feel out those notes, but since I’m pretty sure I have no tastebuds on my tonsils, I doubt I’m going to be able to make anything out.

Did I mention that it’s not astringent in the least?

As the cup is cooling down, the sweetness is becoming a bit more pronounced but still very, very deep and dark. This is the tea equivalent to dark chocolate, my favorite type of chocolate.

I can’t tell you how pleasurable and sensual this tea is. I don’t want my cup to end. So savory and rich and bottomless.

Go drink it. Nowwwwww. Now. Seriously. Oh. My. Now.