There hasn’t been much love for this one in previous reviews. Perhaps mine tasted a little better because I was being carolled by a bunch of really talented fifth-graders who came to our offices. I defy you to improve upon the buzz you get when you listen to children sing at Christmas.
The tea. Mostly cinnamon, maybe a little plumminess that has kind of faded away now that it’s cool. But nothing to pitch down the sink.
Somebody asked me once when I became a tea junkie; I think it dates back to college when I needed caffeine for a 7 a.m. class but chose not to do coffee. My favorite teapot is a medium-sized Brown Betty given to me by my Mema; the painted flowers are chipping off, but the size and feel is perfect. I rejoice when I get a morning to brew a pot of loose tea starting with a kettle; not a bag and a hot pot.
Southwest Missouri
