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Well, LENA F. just called me out on my Samovar love, but their online store is back up and in trying to figure out what I want to order/re-order, I’ve been drinking their stuff all day.

When I was first introduced to honeysuckle as a kid, it was a joyous discovery. I was astounded that you could get this lovely sweetness from chewing on the end of a blossom. Of course, as any of you who have done this know, you don’t get much. The taste is wonderful, but it’s fleeting, as was my initial experience with honeysuckle, because my friend’s mom told us that they sprayed pesticides where we were and so we couldn’t have any more.

Ever since then, part of me has wished that you could get honeysuckle nectar in an 8 oz bottle. So far as I’m aware, you’re not able to, but this tea is pretty damn close.

When I started drinking this, I don’t think that I was steeping it for long enough because I wasn’t getting nearly as much flavor out of it as I have recently. It has the delicate, almost tangy sweetness of honeysuckle in it, with hints of acidic pineapple and honey. In the aftertaste, I sometimes get the flavor of apricot jam.

The aroma of the leaves is sweet as well, but the kind of sweetness you get from chlorophyll and not necessarily fruit. The scent of the tea has a roasted tone to it but is still somewhat sweet.

This silver needle is, overall, very light and refreshing. It’s a tea that, once I start drinking it, I want to keep on drinking [and sometimes do]. I might even go so far as to say it’s my favorite white tea.

Actually, no. I will definitely say it. This is my favorite white tea.

Two of my good friends are shacking up together. It’s a weird feeling, but I’m happy for them [truly]. One of them, I’ve known since kindergarten. The other I’ve known for a few years now.

About a year ago, when my kindergarten BFF was coming to visit from Fargo, ND where she currently resides, a light went off in my head. She was feeling a little bummed about being single, and I had this friend who was single, and I had this gut feeling that some magic would happen if I introduced them.

My BFF is back in town this week for a couple of days. Tomorrow, she’s taking my friend to Penn State with her family to go to the football game and then they are embarking on the 20 hour drive to the land of ice and snow. [It has already snowed in Fargo.]

They’re both sports freaks [she works in sports journalism and he’s…well, he’s a guy] so last night we all went to the World Cup Qualifier game between the U.S. and Costa Rica. [The U.S. had already qualified, but that didn’t keep 20-odd thousand people from attending]. Me, I’m not that much of a sports fan, but soccer [football, futbal, whatever] is one of the ones I can stand. And soccer players are hot. Not to mention soccer fans, as a general rule, are cuter than fans of other sports in my limited experience. Plus, I don’t get to see her often and he’s leaving shortly, so…you know.

It was cold and raining, and we were playing pretty badly during the first half of the game, so spirits were down. I had on three layers, and then BOTH of my friends gave me their jackets because I was dancing around trying to keep warm. All I could think about was how much I wanted a hot cup of tea. And how the guy a couple rows ahead of us looked freakishly like Jon Gosselin. [I wish I’d snapped a picture. I couldn’t stop staring, the resemblance was so striking.]

Luckily, it stopped raining, and the second half of the game picked up. We tied it up at the VERY end and the stadium erupted. It was all slightly exhilarating, but I still wanted tea.

We ended up picking up some Korean BBQ on the way back, sitting in front of the fireplace in my friend’s parents’ kitchen, and drinking hot chocolate. All in all, it was a good night and a nice way to remember one of the last nights my buddy’s gonna be in Virginia.

The first thing I did when I went home was to make a cup of tea, though. I was tired, exhausted even [too exhausted to log this last night], and in the mood for something specific while I mentally unpacked the day.

I’ve had this tea for a while, but I like to save it when I want something subtle and I know I’m not really going to be doing anything else. It’s different from most other oolongs I’ve had because the leaves are loosely twisted instead of tightly furled. Opening the tin, I smell raisins mixed with dried autumn leaves.

The flavors of the tea are a bit different from oolong’s I’ve had as well. They are definitely complex, but delicate. You want to make sure of two things when drinking this tea: one, that you’ll have time to appreciate it, and two that it’s cool enough to let it sit in your mouth a bit because if you gulp it down you’ll miss all the nuances.

It’s not a heavy tea, by any means, but it’s got a thickness to it. The flavors are what I consider to be darker ones. There are kind of a sweet, grassy, vegetal tones, and a taste that’s almost woodsy. At times I taste honey, among other things that I can’t place.

It’s a tea for thinking, and one that I enjoy at the end of the day – be they good, bad, happy, sad, or all of the above.

Knock, knock.

This tea is really good.

This tea is really good and you should get it.

[Drinking this outside on the deck with the laptop. Delicious in every way.]

On a completely unrelated note, don’t think that I haven’t noticed you Steepster guys being all sneaky-like and making little changes to the site. The tasting notes, the cute little cup graphic, among others. I like it, I love it, I want some more of it.

And now, a question.

What’s better than watching Castle on the couch with a down blanket?

You probably know the answer, but: watching Castle on the couch with a down blanket and a REALLY GOOD CUP OF TEA.

I’m sipping on my second cup of the roasted [as opposed to steamed] version of this tea and I can already tell that this is going to be a solid green tea standby for me.

The roasted part of this tea’s name probably has more to do with the processing than the taste, but I am getting a really nutty flavor in this tea. [I almost typed “I am tasting nuts” and then I stopped myself. …And then I wrote it anyway because I think it’s funny.] Though, actually, when I read the description is does say “nutty and roasted,” so that’s one check mark in the not-crazy-box for today.

To break it down a little further, the tea has some sweet notes to it, so it reads more like an almond or a filbert or something. I like it. On the first cup, it is this roasted nut flavor that dominates, with a hint of vegetal-ity. In fact, when I smelled it before diving in, I looked at it and was like, “…Genmai cha?” But the toasted component in this leans more towards your elephant treats than your breakfast cereals. There’s also a little bit of saltiness, which seems to come and go.

In the second cup, the sweetness becomes more pronounced with the other players singing backup. It reminds me of sweet white corn, or…goji berries without the tang. It’s an interesting tea. I’m looking forward to getting to know it better.

When I was little and would get really sick with anything that left me pale and without an appetite, Jello and ramen noodles were staples in our house. Occasionally, these illnesses would arrive during the colder months, like they do. When they did my mom would occasionally make Jello, but instead of refrigerating all of it to make it wiggly, she’d leave it part of it warm and serve it to me in a little cup.

This tea isn’t as brightly hued as Jello is, nor is it as sweet. The Rooibos is definitely the main flavor I get out of this, but when I swish it around in my month, I get a little bit of that orange Jello flavor on the tip of my tongue. It also lingers in the aftertaste in a pleasant way.

The chamomile is extremely subtle. Subtle enough that it won’t be a deciding factor as to whether I want to drink this tea or not on a given day, which is how I like it.

I’m actually surprised that I enjoy this tea as much as I do because when I opened the tin and smelled it my first thought was, “Oh, Paul Rudd. Why are you so cute?” because I have I Love You, Man running in the background [Sleappin’ da byaaayss, mon!]. But my second thought was, “AHHHH, VICKS VAPOR RUB!”

However, in a surprising turn of events, I quite like it. And I’m a Pisces, so it all seems very fitting. I’ve got a running list on a post-it that I have stuck to my monitor for the next order I’m going to put through for Adagio, and this one just got added to it riiiiight…now.

The picture doesn’t lie; this tea looks like a Crayola box. There’s certainly a lot for the eyes to feast upon. And it brews into…well, they call it ruby. I don’t think it’s quite that rich in hue, I’d call it more of a dusty rose. But I’m probably splitting hairs at this point.

The smell is just about as loud as the color. It reminds me of Blow Pops. Or bubblegum. Specifically one of those old school brands like Bubble Yum or Fruit Stripe Gum [who remembers that?]. The kind of gum that loses its flavor 5 minutes later. It is fruity. I mean, it is FROO-TEA. This tea is SO fruity… [HOW FRUITY IS IT?] This tea is SO fruity that it belongs at a male burlesque show. In fact, if teas were people I think that Plum Berry would be a drag queen.

And a rather fabulous one at that.

The smell is somewhat dampened [no pun intended] when the tea is wet. The actual liquid smells like something very specific that I can’t put my finger on, but it isn’t fruit. I’ll think of it in a week.

The tartness of the hibiscus is quite obvious, but I don’t mind that flavor, so I’m enjoying it so far. However, they list an entire encyclopedia of ingredients on the bag and . [I mean, schizandra berries? Are those for real? They sound like something Neil Gaiman would make up. Do unicorns eat them?] I’m somewhat disappointed that I can’t pick them out, but the aftertaste is rather hectic – there’s a lot going on. Once the novelty of this wears off, perhaps I’ll be able to separate the flavors more easily. Or perhaps once it cools.

It’s surprising to me, well, one that this gets steeped for this long. The only thing I steep for 6 minutes are pu-erhs, maybe the occasional herbal. But two, I’ve never had a white tea be this strong. I prefer my white teas to be more delicate – more of a pinky-up affair. I’d really call this an herbal more than anything else, but they say there are white tealeaves in it. Not sure what the point of it is, because anything from those leaves is surely put into a choke-hold by what I am coming to affectionately think of as the crunchberries.

One last thing that I’m really noticing about this tea is that it’s leaving me with a bit of a dry mouth. Is it tannins that do that? I’m not sure. Anyhow, it’s not unlike that sensation you get after drinking lemonade. I’m having to chase it with water, which I’m sure my bladder will be protesting later.

So, Plum Berry is sassy, a little sweet, and maybe just a touch overwhelming. Like a game of drag queen bingo, this isn’t something I want to visit every night, but it’s going to be fun every now and again.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm, and reach over to hit the snooze button. But you realize that your alarm clock is a blueberry. Confused, you sit up and reach to turn on the light, except that the light is a blueberry. You reach to pull back the duvet, only it has been replaced by a sheet of blueberries. Panicked, you run into the bathroom to look in the mirror, and…YOU ARE A GIANT BLUEBERRY.

Open the package and take a whiff, and it’s like every single entity in your realm of consciousness has been replaced by blueberries. The scent is strong, young Skywalker. Luckily, I like those little blue pellets, so this is an enjoyable experience for me.

The scent continues to waft up sweetly when the tea is brewing. The taste is a similar to the blueberries as well – slightly tart, but with an unmistakable sweetness [if you get good ones, that is]. The sweetness in this tea arrives in the finish and lingers in the aftertaste.

For me, the rooibos in this is almost unrecognizable. When I do taste it, it’s in the aftertaste, but it’s not strong.

I’m curious to try this iced.

So far so good, Rishi. You’re two for two. Can you keep it up? CHALLENGE EXTENDED.

When I got home, I was greeted by a package from Rishi on the doorstep. If only all things in life could be timed so perfectly.

I didn’t even bother to take my bags to my room. I dropped them in the kitchen, began to heat a kettle, and sliced open the box. I pretended to ponder over which package to open first, but it really wasn’t a choice. I had read too many favorable logs of this tea to not try it first.

Oh my god.

No, hang on, wait for it…

OH. MY. GOD.

Can we talk about the name for a second? When tea names use words that I am familiar with [unlike things like genmaicha or sencha which previously had no place in my scope of knowledge] they tend to conjure up images that the tea itself rarely lives up to.

I read something like Ancient Emerald Lily, and here’s what comes to mind. Trees that have been around longer than any people I know, which grow so high that you can’t see where they end. The unseen sun makes it presence known by rays of light which pierce through the foliage. Small particles of dust and earth shift and float aimlessly in and out of the columns of sunshine, swirling occasionally when swept into in an eddy of wind. The floor is littered with stones and roots. Moss blankets patches of ground, and the occasional flower, striking against the palette of greens, greys, and browns, stretches towards the light. The forest breathes and swells. Quiet sounds echo through consciousness.

My mother always told me that I had an overactive imagination.

But therein lies my problem. These are the things that I think about, and how can a tea compare? This is the closest that a tea has come to keeping pace with my brain when it goes into overdrive. The taste is clean and fresh, with a hint of something roasted or toasted or some other -oasted type adjective [the roasted aspect is also apparent in the scent]. It has a sweet finish. Not sweet like sugar, or sweet like honey. It’s a more subtle sweetness, like honeysuckle, or when you bite into a particularly excellent ear of corn.

The tea leaves themselves, wet or dry, do not portray any of the aforementioned qualities. To me, they smell mainly vegetal, with a sweetness that’s closer to brown sugar – very similar to most other green teas I’ve had. But the taste is rather singular. It almost reads like a white tea.

The description on the bag eludes to wild orchid and toasted chesnut. I don’t know what orchid is supposed to taste like [are they even edible?] and while I’ve seen many an orchid I’m not exactly sure what they smell like either. Nor have I ever had a chesnut, roasted over an open fire or otherwise, but if they’re anything like what I’m pulling out of this tea that’s going to have to change this season.

In a sentence – Rishi Tea Win.

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.

One of the first things I did when I last was in San Francisco was make a beeline to Samovar. Their Blood Orange Pu-erh was the first tea that I tried there. I spent a good hour or so at the counter, sipping this tea and losing myself in the surreal debauchery that is Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk. [GREAT read, by the way.]

When I got back home, I wanted to get a tin of that tea because I had enjoyed it so much, but it wasn’t for sale online. Months later, when it became available, I snatched it up.

It’s always been funny to me, that the sense of smell is more closely tied into memory than anything else because I most often associate music with memories. However, when I smell something that my brain has tethered to a remembrance, it always come back super vividly. For me, the purchase of this tea didn’t just arrive with something fantastic to drink, it arrived with a quick way to transport myself 2500-odd miles to the opposite side of the country. All it takes is a whiff of this to whisk myself back to that counter, book in hand, stress dissipated, in the midst of some pretty perfect weather. [I also spent each and every morning that week on my brother’s deck, reading in a chair, and brewing cup after cup of tea until I felt like getting up and actually doing something. Even I’M jealous, and I’m the one who did that. Man, what I wouldn’t give right now to be past me.]

Needless to say, I pull this one out when the stress levels are reaching critical.

Of course, I couldn’t fully enjoy this tea if I didn’t like how it tastes, but I’m happy to be able to say that this is one of the teas that eased me into pu-erh, and I continue to enjoy it immensely. It’s definitely a pu-erh, meaning that you get the same soil-like scent and taste that comes with the territory [I like it, but it’s not for everyone]. The ginger adds a spiciness and warmth, and the blood orange gives it a slight edge. The overall effect is a little stronger than most teas [you might have been able to guess that due to the flavors involved], but it makes the earthiness of the tea not quite so overwhelming. I’ve brewed this for a few friends who are looking to try a pu-erh out, with good results.

I have a feeling that this is going to be an EXCELLENT winter tea.