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I have said kind things about this tea in the past. And it is a reasonably good, no-frills, no-fuss bagged tea. Smooth and non-acidic. However, this was the strongest offering at the hotel at which I was posted for a writers’ conference—far too gentle for my a.m. alertness needs. It is November and daylight savings season. I need slap-yer-face, wakey-uppy unleaded. (Fortunately, a kind friend ran me by a Publix and I am now amply and appropriately stocked.)

I am loving this one. Rich coffee, pu-erh, and chocolate, without the buzz that requires my coworkers to pull me down from the building flagpole. It second steeps beautifully in my little Adagio ToasTea thermos.

I allowed myself to be talked into some rather pricey yellow tea on my last shopping extravaganza — no branding, no name; it was one that the owner of TeaMaze had encountered at an expo over the summer and she had not yet put on her shelves.

Y’all know that I am a sloppy steeper; I don’t own a gaiwan (don’t judge :) and sometimes even grandpa style is a little too much work for me. I just want to throw and go. And this whatever-it-is variety has cheerfully taken whatever abuse I have thrown at it so far.

With conventional green tea parameters, it is lightly buttery—like buttermilk biscuits with a hint of honey. Second steep, same leaves, longer steep time, the buttered greens flavor intensifies a bit, and the texture is like heavy satin. And when I couldn’t stand to waste the rest of the pot and poured it in a tumbler to refrigerate overnight, it turned a beautiful golden brunette color with that same silky biscuit-y texture.

So, experts … tell me what I need to know about yellow tea. Other prep recommendations?

I went overboard. We were in our happy place (the Ozarks) and stopped at our happy place in our happy place (TeaMaze) and, well, I was so happy that I just over-happified and pretty much blew my tea budget until spring.

I was persuaded by the sample that the purveyors had all cozied up in a hot pot. It was fruity and sweet with just a tiny bit of tang in the sip. I just finished my first cup at home and concluded that they must have sugared the sample a bit to up the apple-tude. I’ll have to do that next time. However, even straight up, I think the natural sweetness will make this a good and gentle nightcap.

When we went to bed, it was still pushing 80 and unpleasantly dry; woke up to a delicious gentle rain, low-hanging clouds, low 60’s. Ahhhhhhh….ctober. Office windows are wide open and I would swear that the tree tips across the street started to turn bittersweet red overnight.

Nothing else would do for a mid-morning treat. Black tea with maple. Have to be careful with the steep time—three minutes is plenty; four is close to the edge—but today it tastes real maple syrup maple-y; not Mrs. Butterworth’s.

One of the chief reasons I choose tea over coffee is that the civilized nudge of morning tea is much kinder than the jolt of morning coffee. With that said, strong coffee scent makes me melt into a happy sensory puddle. I think we’ve landed on a beautiful friendship here with this pu-erh-coffee bean blend. Just enough bean and flavor to add aroma and personality to a very good tea base. The pu-erh is gentle and sweet, and there’s a little creaminess going on here, even without milk. I wish I could attach the smell to this note. You’d love it, too.

Y’all would be so proud of me…my bagged tea stash is almost manageable, in tea chests on shelves and not in lumps and heaps all over the kitchen. (Loose tea is a different story, but hey, progress is progress.)

And as I was organizing, I was reminded that I needed to freshen up my work selections, so a stray bag of Lemon and Lime went into my bag o’bags. It is light and pleasant for a no-fuss afternooner. I taste the lime first, which is a nifty little flavor surprise as well.

Continuing to enjoy this one—it’s not often you can find a plain black morning tea that can give you two good unleaded, caffeinated steeps. Just a tiny bite to it, but this morning I need bit. (Prepping to teach my high octane 10 and 11 year olds.) If you don’t need teeth in yours, this is great with milk.

They are easier to find around Christmas, but one of our favorite indulgent candies are little orange jelly sticks dipped in chocolate. This is the tea equivalent. The orange peels in the dry mix are sweet and pithy, not bitter, and it tastes as good as it smells, even without sweetening. Second steeps well, too—this morning, I tossed in a little no-brand looseleaf Ceylon to strengthen it back up, and it was still pretty delicious.

Back when I didn’t know any better, I ordered a whole pound of Foxtrot because I liked it so much—it took years to get through all of it, and I was a little burned out by the time I got down to the dregs.

In the years that have followed, I discovered that I could make a pretty fair homegrown version with my own mint plants and bulk-store rooibos and chamomile, even without paying careful attention to the proportions—just tossed a little of each in a steeping basket and go for it.

However, I had a cuppa the original formulation last night, and remembered why I craved it by the pound. Just the right balance of all three ingredients, with none of them pushing out the others. Smooth, sweet, and calming.