Vintage. Tucked what was left in the storage-tub-o’-tins that survived the Great Unpleasantness, so I have a seasonal bit left to enjoy. This is one flavor permuation ago, so it truly is more pumpkin-y than chai-y. That and the fact that I truly don’t know how old it is. Still mild and nice with a little half and half.
Proof that old teas never die, they just … grow a little less steep?
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
