Samovar

I’ve grown to really enjoy mint tea for its refreshing qualities, so I was really excited when this one came in the mail and it didn’t disappoint. [I swear, I don’t work for Samovar, it just looks like I do.] The sweet aftertaste that I’m guessing comes from the cardamom and the fennel intensifies deliciously when you take a deep breath after taking a sip.

I can only imagine what this would taste like with some flourless chocolate cake.

Damn, now I’m hungry.

I got my Samovar order in today and I am so glad this is back in my life. Like, seriously, so glad.

When I ordered this the first time, I went out on a limb and got a large tin because I love orange, I like ginger, and I trusted Samovar. It was a good thing, because this has become a tea I very often love to have to finish the day.

I put about a teaspoon and a half into 8 oz. of water, and I think I was using more water [probably closer to nine, nine and a half] before because it came out stronger. I didn’t mind it though, especially because I could actually feel the ginger warming my insides. If you’re not a huge fan of ginger, I’d recommend upping the water volume or steeping it for around 4 minutes instead [this is a tea with which I have done much experimentation] because it becomes less noticeable there.

Especially now, in the midst of winter, I’ll probably continue to brew this strong. Once it starts to warm up I’ll likely revert to something a little weaker. The main tastes that I get out of this are the citrus [mainly orange, maybe a hint of that extra puckery lemon, but just a hint] and the ginger. The licorice is barely noticeable to me, and really I think it’s just there to add depth to the sweetness.

It’s like what I think a glass of orange cider would be like. I’m a big fan. Giving it a small bump.

And now, to complete my axis of [not-quite-evil] tea reviews for tonight:

5 MINUTES 30 SECONDS. 5 MINUTES 30 SECONDS. 5 MINUTES AND 30 FREAKING SECONDS!!!!!!

If you have been reading my previous notes on this tea, you will know what this means. [And even if you haven’t been, you might be able to figure it out because you’re smart.] Feed the birds.

Apparently, the amount of time you should steep this tea is approximately put-it-in-the-infuser-and-then-forget-to-pay-attention. [If that sounds unfamiliar, it’s probably because it’s part of the metric system.]

Flavor is light and citrus-y, but becomes slightly more intense as you breathe in. Like it’s being absorbed by your tongue.

This is by far one of my favorite drink-before-sleeping teas, but it’s even better when I get the steep time right. [Let it sit too long and this one will get extremely strong. Like knock you upside of the head strong.] I just burned my tongue and it was totally worth it.

I JUST FOUND THE MAGICAL STEEPING TIME FOR THIS TEA.

Did I time how long I steeped it for?

No.

Was I at all paying attention as I was making it?

No.

Why?

Because I was too busy clicking on twitter and watching, of all things, Dumb and Dumber.

Dumb and Dumber.

I don’t even really like Dumb and Dumber. If there were ever to be an award for most appropriate movie title to coordinate with simultaneously occurring human behavior, I think I’d be at least nominated, because I just took a sip of this tea and it’s like rainbows and ponies and I think I just saw Jesus riding a unicorn pass by my window.

So I’m going to just savor this cup in front of me because while this tea is good, and I’ve had quite a bit of it, it’s never been THIS good.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to teagasm all over your web browser. Seriously, though, this is good stuff. Does anyone have a cigarette?

Ruh roh, Steepster. I’ve been away from you for a few days because I didn’t have internet access and I drank a LOT of tea. In the interest of accuracy [and…ahem…the school work I put on hold to log in briefly], I’m only going to write about this one because I am also drinking it currently.

I usually try to set a timer [like this one, that I believe steepster themselves tweeted out – http://steep.it/ ] when I’m steeping something like a green or a white tea, especially when I’m doing other things [like studying or rooting around for things online] and know that I might get distracted. Herbals are ones that I usually let go because I typically like them with the fuller flavor. One time I let this one sit for Thor knows how long and when I remembered to take it out and try a sip the ginger decided that it was going to give me a nice punch to the tonsils.

Since then, I steep this one a little more carefully. It doesn’t take too long to get a nice, deep flavor. [Trust me on that one.] I love just about everything there is to love about citrus fruits. It often is incorporated into my favorite perfumes, shampoos, drinks, and foods. This tea is no exception, and I love that little puff of warmth the ginger provides [when I’m not oversteeping it like mad]. I actually do drink this after yoga sometimes [like the description suggests] and it’s wonderful.

Also, I drank this on a recent evening after some good friends and I stuffed ourselves with tarte tatin [recipe from the fabulous Molly Wizenberg of Orangette, to be found here | http://is.gd/136Ki ], and I think I may have foodgasmed. TMI?

video reviewed it: http://walkerteareview.com/?p=923

has hints reminiscent of dark roasted peanut butter

This was more earthy than I was expecting, and the sweetness more subtle, but I’m definitely enjoying it so far. I’m going to try and steep it a little longer on the next cup. Another cup may be asking for trouble because I can already feel the caffeine kicking in, but what can I say? I live on the edge.

The Virginia weather has already begun its maddening oscillations between crisply chilly and damply warm. This typically begins some time during mid-September. I find myself waking up to a shockingly cool morning and ride giddily in my car with the windows down and the clear, unfiltered sunlight gently massaging warmth into the day. Bright breezes and dappled patterns of shade and light pattern the surfaces beneath trees as their branches rustle and sway. Only a few leaves have begun to turn at this point, with the early shifters revealing select hues of scarlet and amber.

Maybe it’s because the summer’s humidity wicks on a heaviness that makes me dreary by its end, or maybe it’s solely because the weather is just that glorious, but on this first true day of autumn I feel buoyant and bubbly; weightless but filled with joy. You can quickly identify fellow lovers of the season, as they are also brimming with this unspoken agreement towards lightness of heart – not allowing anything to deter themselves from soaking in every second of the beautiful day.

Because we know that in a day or two it will have left us.

During these hours of brilliance and ponies, I have to stop somewhere and get myself a seasonally appropriate drink. For years, this was usually either a pumpkin spice latte or a caramel apple cider from everyone’s corner coffee shop. Now, that drink is Samovar’s masala chai.

Don’t get me wrong. Seasonality doesn’t keep me from blissfully sipping this during the summer – it is absolutely delightful chilled. But, the blend of spices and the creamy caramel tones that the milk [I have used soy, whole, and 2 percent all with great success] and sugar add make the flavor profile delectably autumnal for me.

Earlier this week we went through a cool spell of weather, and so I spent a few hours out on the deck with a blanket, my iPod, my family’s new dog, and a steaming mug of masala chai. Being my last foreseeable autumn in Virginia, I can’t think of another way I’d like to celebrate it.

Happy Autumn! | http://bit.ly/8ZmC9I

And please enjoy this small moment of zen. | http://bit.ly/a8gLXj

I am really hyper right now. I don’t know if you can’t tell from the ridiculous commentary I just bombed Steepster with, but I went with the family to go to see Young Frankenstein at the Kennedy Center tonight [decent show, some funny moments but not stellar] and I’ve got plans to go shopping tomorrow and I’ve had more tea than usual today [which means a pretty crazy amount] so I’m bouncing off the walls at 2:45 in the morning.

My brother wanted in on a saucepan of this, so I made one earlier today and we fell asleep on the couch watching TV this afternoon while drinking it. This last one was with 2% but I’ve made it with whole milk [decadent] and soy milk [delightful] before, too. He gave it a thumbs up, and our mom kept stealing sips from our cups, so apparently she liked it, too. This last batch also means I’m out of it [I absolutely flew through this tin and it was a large one, too], but luckily it’s in stock so it’s going on the order this week.

It’s so smooth and creamy and it almost takes on this lovely caramel quality on certain sips. It’s spicy and sweet, and just…oh, I can’t even put it into adequate words. From the process of making it to the taste, it’s just comfort and warmth and homey and delicious. It’s watching House reruns and falling asleep on the couch with your brother under a throw blanket in front of the Christmas tree while your mom sneaks off with your cups to finish them off.

I stuck some of this in the fridge the other day and I’m drinking it now.

I’ve said that I don’t what I did before I found tea. That’s made even more true when I factor in chai.

Smooth and creamy, when it first hits my tongue it almost tastes like chocolate milk. Then the spices make themselves present and it switches gears from “ahhhhh,” to “ooooooh!” Add to that the satisfaction of having made it yourself, and you’ve got yourself a nice cup of Masala Crack.

My reward for a lot of work and well under 8 hours of sleep for the past 5 or so days was a big saucepan of this.

It smells so spicy, yet sweet. It’s homey, yet exotic. It warms you up but tickles your taste buds ever so slightly. When it’s simmering in the pot, the aroma rises, sweeps out, and perfumes the entire room.

I’ve found that, once the milk has begun to froth and you shut the stove off, it gets better the longer you let it sit, but I often can’t wait longer than 10 minutes. The milk adds an almost malty quality to the scent. The tea itself is rich and creamy, with a hint of sweetness [I use two tablespoons of sugar] and a puff of heat from the spices. Unequivocally delicious. If teas were blankets, this one would be a chenille throw.

Usually, I make enough of this to stick some in the fridge and drink later, because this is equally good chilled. But today, I needed to consume every last drop. So I did.

Best reward ever.

In Virginia, we typically get a number of transition days between summer and fall where the weather doesn’t quite know what to do with itself. The day turns grey and the sun beats against the clouds to heat the residual moisture in the air and make the atmosphere hint at the humidity we sweated in during the previous months.

What results, when days like this occur, is a sense of overall gloom, where the sky feels like it is being lit from behind a dirty sheet of laminate. The temperature is cooling but not crisp like it gets when autumn is truly upon us. The best equivalent I can think of is when you get one of those hot microwaved towels that they offer at some Chinese restaurants. After the initial clean, fresh, and striking warmth evaporates, you’re left with a damp, limp, lukewarm piece of cloth that feels like an uncomfortable handshake. And then you get bitten by mosquitoes. Welcome to Virginia.

This kind of weather tends to make me grumpy, even though I know that it generally signifies that autumn is around the corner and if I can just hold out for a couple of weeks I will be invigorated into a frenzy that will drive my friends absolutely nuts. [Fall is my favorite season.] It also makes me sleepy and prone to have my thoughts wander. I believe it’s sometimes good to have those melancholy days where your mind can meander and you allow yourself to wallow in the sludge of personal gook that you’ve pushed away to simmer on the back-burner.

This becomes a problem, however, when I know that I have approximately 27 other things I need to be doing. So what should be a slow-moving, lethargic, draining-of-emotional-phlegm kind of day instead ends up being intensely stressful because I’m having a hell of a time getting anything done.

When I find myself in these kinds of situations, I need to step away, breathe, and allow myself to take a few minutes to do something distracting so I can clear my brain. You know, hit the personal “reset” button.

One of the best remedies I’ve discovered for this funk is to make some Masala Chai. It only takes fifteen to twenty minutes, which I can justify as being an excusable amount of time for a break, and once you remember how to make it it’s pretty mindless. The ritual is perfect because it requires attention, but not a lot of thinking – an excellent way to cleanse the mental palate.

My favorite thing about making Masala Chai, though, is the end result. This tea is something that wraps itself around all of your senses and gives you a gentle squeeze. Everything about it, from the aroma, to the creaminess, to the permeating warmth, to the quiet sense of accomplishment you get because hey, you just made yourself some goddamn Chai tea, is comforting.

Samovar’s Masala Chai has proven to be one of my absolute favorites, and I have a big tin that sits in the cabinet and waits patiently for days like these.

By the time I finish making my batch, 99 percent of the time, I find myself calmer, awakened, soothed, and ready to take on the world again. I’d say that for a tea to be able to accomplish that is a pretty big deal and certainly worth a try. And what harm can it do? At the very least, you will end up with something delicious. Plus, if the first cup doesn’t get you to where you need to be, there’s always cup two.

A friend and I drank four cups of this last night between the two of us. I used the proportions that was in the video Jesse from Samovar and Kevin Rose made, but appears to be down [was here | http://is.gd/RMKC ]; 2 cups water, 2 cups whole milk, 2 tablespoons sugar, 2 tablespoons chai. That’s good for two cups and adds just enough sweetness for me, so I don’t mess with it. [You can halve-ish, the proportions if you’re making it for one, but might want to play around with the amount of sugar and/or chai a little bit.] Some instructions can be found here | http://is.gd/RMPn if you’d like to try it out.

This makes my house smell like I want to bite into it. The chai itself is delicious. It obviously takes a little bit more prep than your traditional brew, but wholly worth it. Especially on a rough day.

First try of the Maiden’s Ecstasy and it’s not bad a lot. Very delicate taste, good for breakfast. Note to self: let cool the water a little bit more next time.

I don’t use additives in my tea, but Earl Grey is only tea that makes me want to on occasion. I can drink Samovar’s without anything extra no problem, though. [Seriously, Samovar. Can you do no wrong?] You get a little bit of that acidity, which takes a little getting used to if you don’t drink Earl Grey on the regular [which I don’t]. There’s also a taste of lemon that I get very clearly, which is apparently from the bergamot they incorporate into the tea. I don’t know if this tea is going to make me an Earl Grey convert – I usually prefer my greens, whites, and herbals – but I can safely say that to date this is best Earl Grey I’ve had.

Eep. I just glanced at my Harney & Sons post and hopefully Battle Part Deux will not be nearly as long as Battle Part 1.

Scent
There’s not much to say about this that I didn’t say in the H+S post. It smells so full and succulent that you want to be able to take a bite out of it. Just lovely. But H+S has a bit of a stronger scent and so I gave them the win.

Texture
Samovar’s jasmine was a little lighter in the mouth, but also smoother. Almost silky. If it just came down to those two components I’d call it a coin toss, but because Harney & Sons had that strange tingly/prickly thing going on the round goes to Samovar.

Things I Don’t Know Enough About
The leaves in Jasmine Pearl were more separated. Some of the leaves were attached in pairs at the stem, but many were singles. They were all completely unrolled and long by the time the 3:30 was up. Here are my Samovar pictures.
1 | http://twitpic.com/nfruc
2 | http://twitpic.com/nfrzg
3 | http://twitpic.com/nfs3t
leaf | http://twitpic.com/ng5um
cup | http://twitpic.com/ng61c
all | http://twitpic.com/photos/takgoti

Taste
This one was sweeter, like I mentioned in the H+S review, and a little more consistent over time [however, it did grow in flavor as it cooled]. It also had more of a vegetal quality to it, though subtle. I found that the liquid edged out the Dragon Pearl in terms of complexity, but both had very similar notes and tones. Samovar won the taste round.

Price
The price of Samovar’s 2 oz. can is $15, which is much higher price point per oz. than the next [and only] size up. For this tea to be “worth it” I’d get the 5.5 oz. tin, which runs at $28.

FINAL VERDICT
I am giving Samovar the championship belt in this battle, but it was really, really, REALLY close. If Samovar all of a sudden discontinued their jasmine tea and I would not be at all disappointed at the prospect of drinking Harney and Sons’ jasmine instead. Really, like I mentioned previously, I think that this decision should be based on who you buy more from [and how much you want to get, I suppose]. I buy more Samovar tea than anything else, so it makes more sense for me to get my jasmine from them.

So…I suppose that in the end this was all somewhat moot, but I got to play with my camera and two really great teas so it was a win for me. And really, isn’t that what matters? [Yes.]

Columbus Day at my school coincides with an additional teacher work day, and so I’ve found myself with an extra long weekend. [WIN.]

USUALLY, I find myself confined to my desk. Don’t get me wrong, I love my room, but spending extended amounts of time anywhere can become tiring and make me more than a little crazy. So, when my friend called and said she was heading up to her family’s beach house this weekend and, “Would you like to come?” I don’t think I even let her finish the sentence.

This morning, I found myself on the deck, with a blanket and a nice hot cup of this deliciousness. Some people like to unwind by going out to bars and clubs and getting wasted. This is my gin and tonic. And I don’t have to deal with the hangover. A nice bonus.

The hours that I have been putting into school have meant that the original quantity of time that I put into previous activities has dwindled. Important things, like playing video games and watching TV and making fun of strangers in public situations [because, apparently, I’m an adolescent male] have been flung to the wayside like monkeys fling poo.

Okay, so I don’t really make fun of strangers.

OKAY, so I only do it on alternate Thursdays.

Among the other things that I don’t have time for anymore is normal social interaction on a regular basis. I’ve discovered, perhaps unsettlingly, that I have begun to compensate for this by talking to myself. [This might not be something that I should readily admit publicly, but I feel like if you all aren’t already judging me somewhat then you haven’t been paying attention and this might not faze you.]

So, I’m sitting here, reading my Calculus book like a good girl and I’m comprehending what’s going on. [This is a big deal.] Everything’s great, I’m jamming out to the dulcet tones of Yo-Yo Ma [because I can’t listen to music with words when I have to read something that requires real concentration], and then I turn the page and WHAT IN THE NAME OF SATAN’S UNDERWEAR IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE? That isn’t math, that’s forgotten language of the people of Atlantis. The book is telling me that, “Now, we’re going to blah blah blah,” and I whine at it.

Out loud.

I whine to my book out loud. The words, “But I don’t WANNA,” may have actually been uttered, which is disturbing in and of itself because it was said in seriousness. This was compounded, however, by the fact that I said it to no one except the inanimate object sitting in front of me [that I have affectionately nicknamed Stalin Baby]. Half a second later I’m like, “Whoa,” and push my chair back.

There are only two things that I can do at this point. One is to go take a nap, but as I can’t be certain I’d actually wake up in time to get what I need to get done today I can’t do that. The other is to make me some Jasmine Pearl and subject you all to a long story about how my sanity is slipping away while I try to replace all of the oxygen in my body with the scent of this tea.

I guess this wasn’t so much about the tea as it was about me unloading on you all, but the tea is really good. Easily the best Jasmine I’ve had, ever. If I reach for it when I’m in this kind of state, that should be saying something.

All right. Woo-sah. I’m off to tackle Stalin Baby. Wish me luck.

Damn it, Samovar. You’re becoming an expensive habit. We’re not even going to talk about how much I just spent to continue feeding my addiction to your lovely, soothing, aromatic, exquisitely selected teas.

Their Jasmine Pearl was not an exception. I’ve tried other jasmine [pearl, even] teas, and while they certainly weren’t bad, they didn’t come close to touching this one. It has this lingering sweetness to it that the others didn’t, and the smell! My god people, the smell! I could smell this all day. I would just walk around with my nose stuffed in a cup of it if it wasn’t creepy and potentially unsafe. And not to sound like a zen-follower-wannabe, but I find it really relaxing to watch the pearls unfold in my glass pitcher.

Sorry, that might be the caffeine kicking in. In the meantime, I’m going in for another cup.

I love to smell this tea.

If this tea were household products, I would be in an elementary school PSA about huffing aerosol cans. [How 1990’s am I?]

Drinking it is certainly nice, too, but I need to play around with the steep times a bit because I think I tend to brew it weak.

Hey, Trish McEvoy! Want to make me a lychee candle? Kthx.