First of all, this is absolutely beautiful dry. Springy pink potpourri.
Second of all, this does not taste like perfume, which I feared might be the case. It steeps up a gorgeous light champagne color and is just subtly, lightly sweet. The rose tinge is at the back of each sip; it doesn’t lead the way.
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
