Scrumptious Tea at Scrumptious Tearooms

September comes and brings with it cold, grey weather. Of course, the best remedy for not allowing miserable weather to bring you down is tea. Today, I thought I'd take a step away from the norm; instead of reviewing my monthly London Tea Club or my inevitable Imperial Teas purchases, I thought I'd discuss a couple of teas my boyfriend and I tried at a delightful little tearoom in Essex, while visiting family.

The tearoom is Scrumptious in Great Dunmow; we needed to get lunch before meeting with family and this place was recommended to us (although, in truth, we had both been there once before some years ago). It's not a particularly large place, but the atmosphere is relaxed and pleasant, with a vintage feel. My boyfriend and I chose a seat in the back room and perused the menu; it's always a good sign when a place has more than one A4 page listing their teas. Yum. Honestly, there must have been a dozen black teas, with everything from English Breakfast, to Darjeeling to fancy flavours, as well as a couple of white teas, half a dozen green, a few rooibos and herbals, plus an oolong. So much choice!

(So much choice, in fact, that neither of us even glanced at the coffee selection, despite that being my boyfriend's drink of choice, which means that until now when I was referring back to the online menu, I was unaware of the slightly disappointing mistake of the repeated use of the word 'expresso'. I may be a tea drinker, but I still like my coffee spelt correctly.)

After much deliberation, my boyfriend settled on Chocolate Orange and I went for First Love White Tea to drink alongside our sandwiches and cake. When the tea came out, we both got modern looking teapots with dainty, mismatched teacups. Atop the teapots were circular timers on plates, ticking away, letting us know how much time we had left for the tea to brew, while inside were little baskets holding the tea leaves. In short, this meant, much like at home, we could remove the leaves when the tea had finished brewing, so we didn't end up with that all too common problem of a perfectly brewed first cup, a slightly bitter second and a horribly over steeped third.

My boyfriend chose Chocolate Orange (£2.50 per pot) after enjoying the Chocolate Mint that came in in last months London Tea Club box. This tea is a Chinese black (that's black by UK terminology!) base blended with cocoa kernels and pieces of orange. The brew was dark with amber undertones and the aroma was distinctively citrus. Although I tried a few sips of this tea, I did take notes on my boyfriend's opinion of the tea too, given that it was his drink. We both agreed that it was pleasant ('tasty' was my boyfriend's exact word of choice) although less sweet that you might expect (not sweet enough for my boyfriend's tastes). The chocolate flavour was prominent, obvious and delicious. However, the orange flavour was surprisingly subtle; it was less like a Terry's Chocolate Orange than the Chocolate Mint was like an After Eight. My boyfriend felt that it may have needed brewing a little longer to get the orange pieces to infuse a stronger flavour into the liquor. It smelt amazing and, while the kick of the citrus flavours was a little disappointing, it was still a delectable treat. This is a good all round, flavoured tea that I would recommend to most people, even those who are not over fond of chocolate.

The First Love White Tea (£3.00 per pot) was much more delicate that the Chocolate Orange. As the name suggests, it was a white tea, although it was also blended with green tea, jasmine, rose petals and viola. The liquor was pale, but far from the faintest tea I've sampled, with a bright, golden colour. The aroma when brewed is strong and floral, without being too akin to perfume. The tea itself was delicate, as to be expected from a white tea, yet the floral flavours were bold, in particular that of the violas. The tea tastes a lot like liquid Parma Violets, which unexpected but by no means disagreeable (they are some of my favourite sweets). The rose petals came in as an after tastes, while the lingering flavour was that of the green tea. It is a light, clean and refreshing tea and I was in love; I suppose the name should have warned me. It it wonderful, although not a tea I would necessarily recommend to everyone as I know that some people are adverse to floral flavours. However, if you're a fan of Parma Violets and white tea, it is definitely one worth trying out.

As it happens, I liked this tea so much I ended up buying some (yes, the sell the tea leaves! Always a good sign of tea quality), £8 for 100g. No regrets! Although, as they were out of proper packaging (so it has been put in a brown paper bag), my entire living room now smells like Parma Violets. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but certainly unanticipated.

Overall, I was very impressed with my visit to Scrumptious and would recommend the place to anyone passing through Essex who fancies a wonderfully brewed cup of tea. The range is fantastic and the teas I tried were wonderful. It makes a refreshing change to go somewhere that sells specialist teas rather than your Assam, Earl Grey and 'assorted herbals' tacked on to the hot drinks menu at many a coffee serving cafe.

Poppies and Pu Erh

As the weather has been wonderfully pleasant and actually summery, my boyfriend and I have been traipsing the city of Lincoln, enjoying the sights and the sun. This included a trip to the top of the (dread and so aptly named) Steep Hill, to go to the Castle to see the Poppy Wave installation, which is only there for a limited time and the only place in the country to show it. These are the same poppies that were displayed at the Tower of London in 2014 to mark the centenary of the Great War. There are significantly fewer poppies at Lincoln than were in London, but it's still a poignant display. It does not quite take the breath away such as the London display (where every poppy represented a fallen soldier; it was heart wrenching), but it's still sorrowfully beautiful; the large red wave cascading down from the castle walls like a river of spilt blood.

It is worth seeing if you get the chance, and it was such a lovely day to walk around Lincoln Castle parapets.

Of course, you're probably all wondering what poppies have to do with tea? Well, also at the top of Steep Hill is one of my favourite shops and, after the journey in the heat up that damnable street, well, it would have been rude not to go in. We went up to see poppies and came down with tea.

I not only treated myself to some Pu Erh Mini Tuo Cha (as my collection was severely lacking in Pu Erh) but also to a delightful teapot and teacup set; English style, rather than Japanese this time! I have been after another single serve English style teapot for a while now.

Just look at it, isn't it wonderful? It still has the Japanese feel with the pink cherry blossoms picked out on it, but it looks more at home with my English style teapots (despite its style being termed 'Aladin'; it does look a little like a magic lamp, huh?). It's by a company called Tea Logic who, surprisingly, are German! However, upon pouring it the first time, ah, yes. There's that brilliant German design; this teapot does not drip. It pours smoothly and evenly, it's light and easy to hold without risk of burning the fingers. Without a doubt, I am so pleased I bought this teapot and would definitely buy from Tea Logic again if their other products meet the same standards.

I love it.

This teapot was definitely worth every penny. Which brings me to my next purchase; the Pu Erh. Pu Erh, which hails from the Yunnan province, is different from many other teas because it is fermented.  This is also where things can get a bit confusing, due to tea, being such a wonderfully global phenomenon, has no universal standards and, despite being one plant, has several rich and diverse cultures surrounding it.

Pu Erh is a black tea. Ah, yes! Black tea, just like our good old English Breakfast, the most oxidised of all teas (more so than oolong, green or white!). It's the base of your PG Tips, your Twinnings, add a splash of milk and two sugars (heathens). Well, yes. Black tea is any highly oxidised tea. Just not in China. In China, this is 'hong cha' (红茶), or, literally, 'red tea', named after the colour of the liquor (as opposed to green tea). In China, black tea (or hei chá (黑茶), meaning 'dark' or 'black tea') is fermented tea, rather than highly oxidised tea. So while both Pu Erh and Assam are black teas, it means something entirely different, given the region and culture they come from.

Tea is complex stuff, you know.

Now that we've established what Pu Erh is, I suppose I should probably explain the Mini Tuo Cha bit. Pu Erh, rather than being packaged and sold loose, is pressed into 'cakes' or 'bricks'. Each shape has a different name; Tuo Cha (沱茶) refers to a little 'bowl' shape, rounded on one side and flat with a convex hollow on the other. 'Cha' simply means 'tea' in Chinese, while it is believed that the 'Tuo' originates from the Tuo River, which is an old shipping and trading route for tea. Tuo Cha can come in many different sizes, any where from a weightless 3g, to the much bulkier 3kg; my particular Tuo Cha comes in small, single serve cakes (all individually wrapped), weighing in at less than 10g a piece. This tiny size is where the 'mini' comes from (finally, something that did not require a grandiloquent explanation). So there you have it! Pu Erh Mini Tuo Cha; fermented tea from the Yunnan province, pressed into minuscule bowl shaped 'cakes'.

So what do I think of the Pu Erh Mini Tuo Cha? Well, I initially decided to brew it in one of my glass teapots as I was intrigued to see what happened to the 'cake'. Spoiler; it disintegrates immediately. There is no languid unfurling of leaves or a paced steep, which darkens little by little. No. The minute the water hits, those fermented leaves are flying everywhere; and, on top of that, the brew itself is some of the darkest I have ever encountered (truly, I understand why it is black tea). In short; despite using a glass teapot I could see a grand total of bugger all. Just murky depths that could give the Dead Marshes a run for their money (and, knowing me, I honestly wouldn't be surprised if something dead accidentally wound up in a teapot of mine; hey, Skeldon, I have your phalanges*).

*To clarify for those who are not so well acquainted with me; I did a forensic BSc/MSc and have a medical skeleton hanging around in my living room and have done for over ten years. He's a bro, though.

After the 2-5 minutes of recommended brew time (according to my tea chart) I poured the pitch black liquor into my tea cup. The aroma is earthy, perhaps even a little 'muddy'. The taste is exceedingly complex., with different flavours rolling over the tongue; the flavours reminds me of late Autumn, when the leaves have already fallen and a frost is just biting the air. It's strong and robust without any of the astringency of over steeped tea. It took me a while (two of three brews!) to figure out what the Pu Erh reminds me of, when I realised it has a very peaty taste. This surprised me; as a whiskey drinker, I do not like the peaty flavours, much preferring the malts. But since realising it, the Pu Erh is unmistakably peaty and it is wonderful. Although I have been drinking this throughout August, I feel that this would be the perfect tea to drink when coming home from a bitter cold day, curling up with a book in front of the fire to revive icy fingers and toes.

Pu Erh is truly a delight. It is not a tea I would recommend to everyone, however. It's not sweet in the slightest (it's very savoury), which I'm sure would be a deal breaker for some. As I previously mentioned, it's also potent, which may not appeal to those who prefer subtle, delicate flavours found in teas such as Darjeeling or Jasmine. However, if you enjoy peaty whiskys, strong tea or the taste of Autumn I would definitely recommend Pu Erh. I will definitely look at buying some different varieties of Pu Erh, including green (let's just make it more confusing, a green black tea?!). For now, however, I am content with my new teapot and this delicious find.

Summer Tea; Blissful Sleep, Chocolate Mint and Cherry Almond

Hello to all and what wonderful weather August has brought us. Of course, sunshine and clear skies are not all August gave to me, oh no, I have, of course, got more tea. At the beginning of the month I recieved not only my usual London Tea Club box, but also a sample of Taylors of Harrogate that I sent off for. Exciteaing times!

In truth, I had forgotten that I had applied for the free sample of Taylors of Harrogate teas, so it was a nice surprise when it arrived, in a little white envelope. The packaging itself is white with a vibrant yellow border with flowers pick out in a very summery manner. The front of the packaging informs me that Taylors of Harrogate supply 'vibrant range of fruit, herbal & green teas', and that this sample pack is 'celebrating the world of flavor with bees'. When unfolded, there are three, sealed tea bags tacked to the 'pages' along with information about the Kew Gardens partnership (with a shout out to bumble bees for pollinating the flowers they use in their infusions), a list of other flavours available and details of a competition. The three teas I recieved were Sour Cherry, Green Tea & Mint and Sweet Rhubarb.

As of yet, I have not tried these teas, but they do look exciting (I am not so elitist as to deny the simple pleasures of a good quality herbal/fruit infusions) and they smell amazing from what I can detect through the wrapping.


London Tea Club's delivery felt less sunny in comparison, but no less intriguing. Before I had even opened up the package, I noticed that there has been a slight change to the labels. The labels are a little more bold and striking and have lost that subtly ornate flare. The same is true of the labels on the test tubes and the descriptive cards, which are now white instead of black. While I don't mind the change (it's not really that overt, I just always notice the nuances), I did prefer the old design; I felt it had a little more character. (I was also a little disappointed in the use of 'Fall' in place of 'Autumn' in the newsletter as, as far as I am aware, this is an English based company.)

But you're not here to read about my opinions on a bunch of labels. That would be a very different blog entirely.

August's box brought with it Cherry Almond, Blissful Sleep and Chocolate Mint.

The first tea I tried was the Chocolate Mint, which I had one evening after dinner. Chocolate Mint is a black tea; a Ceylon base, then flavoured with chocolate essence and blended with peppermint*. Upon opening the test tube you are struck with the distinct smell of mint, although it is not as powerful as many mint infusions. Upon brewing, it creates a deep, chocolate coloured liquor and becomes even more fragrant. This one my boyfriend was very excited to try. As I sipped I realised that, unsurprisingly enough given the name, it tasted exactly like an After Eight. As my boyfriend said, this tea is exactly as it says on the, uh, test tube. It's delicious though and I imagine would be even more indulgent with a splash of milk. It's not like a mint infusion, which tastes fresh and invigorating; this is more like that guilty mocha or hot chocolate you treat yourself too. It's a slightly more subtle flavour than a mint infusion, and sweeter, with rich, chocolatey undertones. Mmm, yum! I would definitely recommend this tea to those who like something sweet or want something more sugar free than a minty mocha/hot chocolate (to be honest, I would probably recommend this to those who don't even like tea, assuming they like mint). My brother doesn't trust After Eights (it is a long story), so I'm half tempted to chase him around his house with this one.

*Flavoured, or scented, is when  the tea is 'infused' with a certain flavour, either naturally or artifically; this is usually by the addition of essence or placing dried tea leaves with the extra ingredient (for example, jasmine) so that it absorbs the aroma (but the ingredient is then removed before packaging). Alternatvely, blended tea is the addition of other ingredients, such as dried fruit, petals or spices. I am in the process or writing up a tea glossary that I will include on this blog when complete.



The second tea I tried was Blissful Sleep. This tea is actually a herbal infusion; presumably so as o make it caffeine free. And what a herbal infusion, containing a mix of (prepare yourselves), camomile, lemon balm, lemon verbena, linden flowers, anise, cinnamon, oat straw, hops, passion flower and orange peel. Phew! The dry leaves are not hugely aromatic, but there is a natural sweetness to it. The liquor is surprsingly dark, but still golden in colour (although much less green than I imagined). The taste is rather complex, as to be expected from such a dearth of ingredients, but has a honey like quality. Despite the citrussy ingredients, there is only a slight tang, manifesting itself in candied notes rather than sour. It is very soothing and calming, definitely a brew for after a long day.

The third, and final, London Tea Club tea is Cherry Almond. I already have a tea called Battenberg, which is similar mix of almond and berries, so I had anticipated that this tea would have a comparable taste. Cherry Almond, much like Chocolate Mint, works with a Ceylon base; it is flavoured with cherries and blended with slices of almond (quite large pieces, easily identifiable beteen the leaves), cranberries, sunflower and calendula petals. The dried blend has a very pungent, fruity aroma that is not at all unpleasant. When I brewed the tea (which I ended up having in bed, because I can), the liquor was surprisingly pale; I had expected something rich in colour, but instead got much more golden tones. The heady scent was a that of berries, reminiscent of English hedgerows and utterly amazing. The taste was a little unexpected; I had expected it to taste like my Battenberg tea. However, it tasted much more like jam tarts; it is one of the most powerful flavoured teas I have ever experienced. I imagine that this tea is what people expect when they buy pre-packaged fruit infusions from the supermarket. It was, quite simply, wonderful. This is easily one of the most delicious flavoured black teas I have ever sampled and I would recommend it to anyone. It is both sweet and fruit, with strong cherry notes. Truly, this tea is one that should be tried by tea newbies and conoissers alike. I love it.

Overall, while August's box may not have offered up the rarest or most sophisticated of teas, it gave me a delightful trio than I am very pleased to have recieved. Although London Tea Club have ever let me down with a delivery (in fact, I have been thrilled with every one), I would say this is probably one of the best I have recieved. Truly, August is shaping up to be a wonderful month for teas.

A Summer's Breeze; London Tea Club Teas

It's been one of those months! Isn't it always? I've yet to even try any of July's teas from London Tea Club and already I've received June's box! Whoops.

Still, I'm having a relatively lazy day, just watching anime on Netflix, doing a spot of knitting (well, shopping for knitting patterns actually; I'm so indecisive about what I want to do!) and I figured what better way to compliment such a day that having a good, long tea session.

In June I received two black teas and a green tea; Russian Caravan (an old favourite), Apricot Peach (which smells divine and is suggested to drink iced to cool down on a, aha, 'hot summer's day', whatever one of those is) and Kukicha. The Kukicha looks interesting; it looks more like grass than tea and smells rather sweet. There's an underlying note of something familiar in it, too, but I cannot quite put my finger on it; some sort of fruit, perhaps, or flowers? I'm not sure; hopefully tasting it will help solve the mystery. I'm also intrigued to see just how different it is from Chinese green teas, which is what I drink most often (it is a Japanese green tea). June's box also came with delightful free gift; a little card designed by Scout Editions, featuring a brightly coloured 'Kokeshi doll', to celebrate 'the return of [London Tea Club's] favourite Japanese green tea'. I love it when London Tea Club throw in little extras, always makes me smile.

July's box was quite different, with a herbal, a black and a white tea. The herbal is Coffee Rooibos. Yes, you read that right; it's some sort of Frankenstein's Monstrocitea; it looks like rooibos but smells like coffee. I'm sure it's perfectly pleasant (I am a coffee drinker as well as a tea drinker in all honesty), but it's perplexing and certainly made me do a double take. I think this is one of the more interesting teas I have received from London Tea Club. The black tea is a blend of Sri Lankan and Indian teas and dried mint; it smells superb. I love mint tea and this one is one of the strongest smelling ones I have come across. I just may have to buy those Moroccan tea glasses that they sell in Imperial Teas, which I've been eyeing up for nearly a year; you know, just to make sure I'm drinking it properly (yeah, that's it). The third tea I swear when I first read it was called 'zombie'. It's not, it's called Zomba Pearls and instead of loose leaves, it is (quite large) twisted pellets. That's definitely one for a glass teapot.

So today started off with the Russian Caravan; I'm no newcomer to this tea and I currently have a jar of it sat in my drawer. Even in the test tube you can tell this is a particularly smokey tea, even for a Russian Caravan. This particular tea is a blend of Ceylon and Lapsang Souchong. Traditionally, Russian Caravan is supposed to get its smokey aroma from the campfires along the Silk Road (along which the camel trains would travel to deliver tea from China to Russia), hence the name, although the card for this one informs me that 'no campfires were used in the making of this tea'. I brewed it in my little black and green teapot and, rather than using the matching cups, opted to use my new frosted glass tea cup/bowl that I acquired on my last trip to Imperial Teas.

Once brewed, the malty aroma is even stronger and the liquor is a beautiful amber hue. It tasted stronger and slightly more bitter than most Russian Caravan teas I've had before, despite having brewed it for no more than three minutes. This was no bad thing, mind you. The Lapsang Souchong is definitely the dominant flavour in this tea. Although smokey, it wasn't quite campfire smokey (and, having just returned from a week away camping, the smell of woodsmoke is still lingering in my clothes and hair, so I know what it should be like), but more like a cask aged whiskey. Overall it's a very pleasant tea, although perhaps not my favourite Russian Caravan that I have had.

The second tea I opted for was the Kukicha; apparently I was having a sophisticated tea day and not opting for any of the frivolous, flavoured black teas that I do so enjoy (in part, it was because I wanted to try the Apricot Peach iced). The dried tea itself was bright, a mix of colours ranging from lemon to forest green. I placed the tea into my pot (one and a half spoons, this one) and let it brew for two minutes with 100C water, as instructed (oddly, for a green tea). Upon pouring I was surprised by just how pale and delicate looking this tea is. You could be forgiven for not thinking it is tea at all. The aroma is subtle, but earthy; more so than the dried leaves. Upon tasting it I noted that it was subtly sweet, although not in the honey or citrus way that I often find in teas. It's more sweet like you might expect grass to be sweet; 'green' sweet, I suppose. Again, there's a hint of some fruit or vegetable that I cannot quite place. Despite not being a flavoured or blended tea, I would say that this is one of the more complex flavours. It's not as bitter or astringent as most green teas, either; in fact, I wouldn't say it hugely tastes like green tea at all, instead having a flavour closer to something herbal. This is definitely a tea I would recommend to those who want to like green tea but do not (and those who do like it, to be fair).

Kukicha is still Camellia Sinensis, however. Unlike most teas, though, Kukicha is made from the stems and twigs rather than the leaves; basically, all the bits of the plant that are normally discarded. As Kukicha is what the tea is made from rather than how, it can be either green or black. It would be interesting to try a black Kukicha. It's also naturally low in caffeine, so is probably the best tea to drink if you're not wanting the addition of caffeine as there's no industrial processing.

I like Kukicha. This is definitely one to add to my 'buy more of' list. It's quite refreshing.

For my third tea I decided to have a look through my notes; although I've tried most of my teas from London Tea Club, I know that I have not written about all of them (recently I have made and printed a load of pages for my Filofax, so I can keep track of all my teas and my notes on them, which makes blogging after the date so much easier). I noticed there was one from April that I had not written about, but remembered was a delight to drink; Lychee Jasmine. I'd already started on the green teas, so I felt it only appropriate to continue (I was waiting for my boyfriend to get home before I tried the Coffee Rooibos).

Lychee Jasmine is a blended green tea; a Chunmee base (a Chinese green tea, which means 'precious eyebrow' as '[t]he gentle curve of the the dried tea leaf is reminiscent of a lady's hand-drawn eyebrows'), with dried jasmine flowers and, unsurprisingly enough, dried lychees. The brew is a green gold tone and, oddly, smells a little like Swizzels Matlow Love Hearts. It's delicate but undeniably fruit, with a long, lingering aftertaste of jasmine. It is, to my mind, what spring would taste like if it were a tea.

Oh, and one final thing; yesterday I was killing time before a doctor's appointment in Waterstones. I had no intention of buying anything but you know how it goes. Previously I had bought The Book of Tea by Kakuzo Okakura, from Penguin's new line of classics; well, as I was walking down the stairs, there, on the Penguins Classics shelf, I spotted a booked entitled Green Tea. Furthermore, it was by Sheridan Le Fanu. For those of you who do not know, Sheridan Le Fanu was a 19th Century ghost story writer and happens to be the author of my favourite vampire novella; Carmilla. So unlike The Book of Tea, Green Tea is a work of fiction, but between its title, its author and its low price of £2, I couldn't say no.

 Overall, I'd say July is shaping up quite nicely if today's tea session is anything to go by! 

Having Fun (Fun, Fun), With the Sun Wukong; 'Ku Ding Serpent's Tongue' Herbal Infusion

Hello to all and hello to summer (alas that this muggy, monsoon weather is British summer). It's been a while; in part because my phone bust (as I mentioned in a previous post) so I have been unable to photograph my teascapades and, let's face it, what is a blog without pictures? The other part s that I have been enjoying the (however sporadic) wonderful weather.

Even though I've not been bringing my tea adventures to the internet, that doesn't mean that I have not been indulging. No, in truth I have decided to start summer by expanding my already far too extensive (she says with no hint of regret) tea collection; I took a trip up to Imperial Teas, braving the dreaded Steep Hill, which, as those of you who have quested it know, is no misnomer. Sometimes I feel that I need mountaineering equiptment to reach the top and this recent trip was made more excruciating by a recent two hour trip to the gym which had left my legs aching. Still, I knew I would be rewarded with tea.

I went with the intention of buying a particular tea that I had seen on their website, as well as a few things for my dad for the upcoming Father's Day. The tea that I had seen was one called Serpent's Tongue, which I found out after purchasing, is actually not 'tea' in the truest sense (that is, it is not Camellia sinensis). While I was there, as always, I may, or may not (I most certainly did) have treated myself to more than I went in for. Oops. I ended up leaving with 750g of tea, which consisted of seven different types/flavours. Exciting times ahead!

After popping in to one of the local cafes for a delectable afternoon tea, we toddled on home with me spending the entire journey home deciding which tea to try first. Eventually, with help from my boyfriend, it was decided to try the Serpent's Tongue first, as it is the one I gone with the intetion of buying. As I said before, it's not technically a tea; it's what is called 'Ku Ding'. Ku Ding is a 'bitter tea infusion' that is usually made from either Ligustrum robustum or Ilex kaushue/kudingcha. This particular Ku Ding is made from the latter; it's related to both the holly bush and the same herb that makes Yerba mate. This particular Ilex kaushue was grown on the Chinese island of Hainan.

Unlike normal tea, the leaves for Ku Ding are rolled into thin pipes and have the appearance of, well, a non-forked serpent's tongue. It's this unconventional shape that gives the infusion it's name. I decided to brew it in my plain glass teapot so that I could what happened as the leaces brewed. For a single cup you need two to three 'tongues' or rolled leaves, so 100g of this particular tea could last a while.

Oh, something I forgot to mention; the other day my latest piece of tea paraphanalia arrived from China. It was a long awaited tea pet! What is a tea pet, you ask? A tea pet is small animal figurine made from the leftover clay used in making Yixing (a type of clay) teapots in China, which are left unglazed. Tea pets are raised by letting them 'drink' tea, by pouring it over them. As they're unglazed, they absorb the tea, eventually taking on the colour and aroma of the tea, giving them a glossier and darker appearance. They're usually used in the Chinese gong fu tea ceremony, which involves several steepings (so the first steeping, which is not meant to be drunk as it is used to 'wake up' the leaves, can be poured over the pet; alternatively, left over tea (whatever that is) can be used) and a bamboo, slatted tea tray, so a mess isn't made when you feed the tea pet. I, unfortunately, do not (yet) have a gong fu tea set, so I had to improvise. I know it's likely more tea ettiquette to pull something out of a particular cultural ceremony and use it my own way, but ever since first found out what a tea pet was, the idea of having a friend to share all of my tea adventures with appealed. I liked the idea of having something that I ould infuse with teas from important events in my life, such as going on holiday or my morning tea on graduation day And, of course, my expensive and fancy teas.

The tea pet I bought was a little bigger than I expected, but even cuter in real life than in the images. I spent ages choosing a tea pet as there are so ma ny different designs; buddhas, pigs, dragons and so on. I knew the animal I wanted, but they seemed a little elusive. Eventually I found exactly what I was looking for; a monkey! Why a monkey? My Chinese Zodiac is the monkey; when I was younger I used to think it was a rather dull animal to have, but when I became a little older I realised how important they are to Chinese mythology. You have my dad introducing me to Monkey Magic to thank for that. Ever since, I've loved the symbolism of the Zodiac Monkey; I've worn the word 'monkey' in Chinese characters around my neck near enough every day since I turned fifteen. In homage to my favourite monkey, my new tea pet has been named Sun Wukong, after, well, Monkey. It means 'Monkey King' (I did consider Qui Tian Dasheng, or 'Great Sage, Equal of Heaven, which is one of Sun Wukong's titled, but it was decided against, as 'Sun' makes a much better shorted name. 'Sun' means monkey, for the record.) This little monkey cost me a little over £5 (including shipping) from the bay of e (although, oddly, I could only find it on the American site).

This was the first tea I had brewed since my little tea pet arrived and I figured Sun was probably a might thirsty after the long travels from China. As such, Sun was involved in the preparation of the Serpent's Tongue. It felt a little wrong, my tea pet's first drink not actually being tea, but it was Chinese, so there was some reasoning.

Serpent's Tongue has a distinctly smokey smell when in the packet, not too disimillar from a Lapsang souchong. It's not the smokiest tea I have ever smelt, but it was definitely present. I placed three pieces of Serpent's Tongue in my teapot and poured over the hot water, which instantly became a mellow green (far more rapid than most teas). Little bubbles started trailing out of the twisted leaves, so much you could almost mistake the liquor for being carbonated. The brewing time suggested 3-5 minutes at a temperature of 100C. I set my timer for three minutes, which is my standard when given a time range that includes it (most black teas need steeping for around 3 minutes for my preference). I sat with it on the coffee table and watched as one of the leaves refused to sit still (would you if you were being boiled alive?), it floated, it sank, it reared up, it unfurled and with no sublety. It was a joy to watch. Once the timer chimed, it was time to pour three cups of tea; one for me, one for my boyfriend and one in which Sun sat, awaiting a little teacuzzi (no bamboo tray, remember? I said I had to improvise).

Sun delighted in getting the first sip of the Ku Ding. The liquor itself was surprisingly pale, although distinctly chartreuse. Much like the dry leaves, the infusion still had a smokey scent. Surprisingly, upon first sip, there was little to no smokey flavour, although the flavours present were bold. This is not a subtle Darjeeling; Ku Ding hits with full force, right at the back of the palate. I even felt that it had a slight aneathatising effect, like eating a particularly insubstantial clove. It's flavour is not unlike a strong green tea, although less astringent that one oversteeped. It is bitter, but there are notes of liquorice. For all it's strength it does not feel over powering and is, despite it's heavy flavours, extremely pleasant. That said, there was a little liquor left in the teapot that we decided to pour after finishing our cups (so it had been steeped for well over fifteen minutes); neither myself nor my boyfriend could finish this for it's potency. This is certainly a tea that needs to be brewed correctly (fortunately, Sun only drank the well brewed Ku Ding).

Serpent's Tongue had an unanticipated flavour, one that, in description, sounded not at all to my liking, but in reality was favoured. I do not feel that this is a drink I will partake in every day, but perhaps after a long day or the occasional early evening with a book. I do not particularly feel that, outside of tastings, this is a tea for sharing; more for a quite time to energise or replenish. In Chinese medicine it is said to 'clear the head and eyes', being used for the 'common cold', to 'alleviate fidgets, thirst and coughing'. As I said, it's one for after a tiring day at work. Due to it's unusual shape and it's suprisingly potent kick, this is one tea I am very glad to have added to my collection and would recommend to any fan of green tea.

May I Share this Gourd?; the Teas of May and 'Radiance Blend'

New month means new teas! Although one does have to wonder where the year is vanishing too.

May opens up with some delights from London Tea Club; the herbal Radiance Blend and black teas Charles Dickens and the flavoured Opera Rose. I can't tell you how excited I am by the Opera Rose tea; one of my favourite teas is China Rose, which I bought locally from Imperial Teas, or, when my only options are less artisan, Twinings' Rose Garden. I'll confess, I was bought the Rose Garden tea on a whim, fell in love and promptly searched for a better quality rose flavoured tea at Imperial Teas (my go to for tea shopping). My mother also bought me a rose tea from Whittards of Chelsea, so that I could 'have a fancy tea she liked' (my mother is not a fan of much else other than Earl Grey or English Breakfast, unlike my papa) buuuut this got lost before it even got to me.

The suspicions currently lie at my brother's door. Hmm!

The back of the newsletter had a rather stunning photograph of Wuyi Mountains in China, where London Tea Club have recently been, sourcing their teas. Wouldn't it be fantastic to take a trip around the world to source teas? Ah, one can dream!


The same day I'd also been out shopping with my boyfriend (mainly just enjoying what scant beautiful weather England wants to provide us this year) and I saw that Penguin Classics had released a new set of books, including  The Book of Tea by Kakuzo Okakura. Have I heard of it before? Not at all, but it was all of £2 and is the '1906 guide to the beauty of the tea ceremony' which is 'both a paean to the art of simplicity, and a wry critique of the West's view of Japan'. I felt that it was worth adding to my collection and will hopefully in due course teach me more about the wonder that is tea.

To date I have read little more than the first page; today has been a lazy kind of Sunday and from what I have read, it is a book that need concentration. Not today then!

Last night I was home alone and recovering from a long week that culminated in a sickening three day migraine (hence the need for a lazy weekend). I curled up in my pyjamas, put Netflix on and treated myself to one of London Tea Club's teas. I decided to go for Radiance Blend as the card informed me it was 'best enjoyed in a bath with Himalayan crystal salt and lavender'. I don't have a bath (or Himalayan crystal salt or lavender for the matter), but I felt like I was doing my only possible equivalent, of being snug and cosy and calm on the sofa. (I've also just realised; is the salt and lavender meant to be for the bath or the tea? Huh.) The card further described this blend was 'a champion of self-care, deep healing and radiance'. After the week I had had, it sounded very much like what I needed.

I also apologise now for the quality of the photos in this post; unfortunately my phone went caput and is was taken in for repairs last week, leaving me with my older model and its lower spec camera. I told you it had been a long week.

Radiance Blend is a herbal blend of green mate, lemongrass, spearmint, nettle, ginkgo (leaves from a Chinese tree), ginseng, cornflower, calendula and sunflower petals. I have a huge bag of plain green/yerba mate (Ilex paraguariensis) in my tea cupboard of which, I'll be honest, I am not a fan. However, I was intrigued to see how this blend stood up, as I know mint or lemon is often added to yerba mate for flavour.

For those of you who do not know, yerba mate is a South American plant that is used to brew the popular regional beverage, mate. Mate is traditionally drunk from a calabash gourd (literally a hollowed out gourd) using a bombilla ('bom-bee-yah'; a filtered metal straw) and as part of a social gathering; the host prepares the mate in the gourd, drinks from it, refills and passes it to the first guest, who then drinks from it. It is then refilled and passed on until the yerba becomes lavado ('washed out'). Unlike Camellia sinensis, preparation of mate requires a large amount of the dried leaves, usually filling up about two-thirds of the gourd (can you imagine the strength of the infusion if that were tea?!), which allows it to be resteeped several times, making the passing of the gourd to other guests possible.

As I mentioned before, I am no stranger to mate, but it is far from a favourite. I've brewed it several different ways (adding peppermint tea, honey, rum, etc.) in attempts to make it more palatable to me but, ultimately, it ends up tasting too bitter and far too much like eating old, musty vegetables for my liking. But here it was, in a blend recommended to me by London Tea Club, and, so far, everything they have sent has been wonderful, so surely this one couldn't be so awful as I remembered? Certainly, this blend smelt incredible.

So after a short fight to get the cork out of the test tube I went about preparing it. How did I prepare this infusion? Why, in my calabash gourd, of course! You didn't think I would have come this far in my tea journey without having acquired such a piece of paraphernalia? Why did you think I had the yerba mate in the first place?

Now, I was a little confounded when I went to brew this tea; the test tube proudly announced that this tea needed to be brewed at 100C, but I have always been lead to believe that yerba mate should be brewed at around 70C, so as not the scald the leaves and, also, so you don't split the gourd. I decided to brew the infusion as The London Tea Club had instructed, so I poured the leaves into one of the supplied teabags and prepared it in a jug so I could use boiling water without damaging my gourd. After the recommended 7-10 minutes (and checking with a thermometer that the liquid was cool enough) I poured the liquor into my gourd. I made more mate than there was room in the gourd, so I poured the remainder into a pre-warmed thermos as a slight twist on the tradition of carrying around a thermos of hot water to refill the gourd on the go (apparently very common sight in the streets of Uruguay). I was also intrigued to see just what mate would taste like with a 'tea' amount of leaves.

My infusion was brewed, my gourd was full, it was time to settle back down on the sofa and relax. Once in the gourd, the drink just looked black, any colour cast in shadow. Fortunately, I had thought to make a note of it while it was still in the jug; it was a vibrant, spring-bud green. Much brighter and more vibrant than a green tea. My photographs, unfortunately, did not quite capture just how pretty a hue it was (instead making it look far more gold).

My first thought as I sipped the drink through my bombilla was that it was a little weak. This was my fault; I fear I was a little over zealous when adding the water to the jug. Although (ironically) it was not as strong as I would have liked, it was pleasant and thoroughly refreshing. Despite the weakness of the brew, the flavour was surprisingly bold (it would have just been improved by a more balanced water-infusion ratio). I felt the spearmint (a satisfying change from peppermint) was the predominant flavour, but there was a sharpness to it that can only have been the lemongrass. It also tasted quite verdant, as to be expected from a mate, but far less bitter and harsh. There was a lingering, subtle sweetness, although I'm a little unsure if that was the infusion or the gourd; as the gourd is a natural produce, it's inner is porous and absorbent, often picking up the flavours of whatever is put within. As I mentioned before, I have added (a lot of) honey to my mate previously, so it was difficult to tell if this slight syrupy flavour was from the container or the brew.

As I topped up my gourd with the last drops from the thermos, I realised I had not stopped to smell the tea, so relaxed was I. I did hold the gourd to my nose to try to detect the aroma but, much like the sweetness, it was hard to tell what was gourd and what was not. The gourd itself smelt a little like wet wood, as always, and, given how small the opening was, I felt this masked the scent of the brew within. From what I could determine, however, the infusion smelt of citrus and the dewy, spring grass.

Overall, unlike my previous encounters with mate (including a couple of not-so-biting trials at cafes, which both resulted in a burnt tongue from a too hot bombilla), this was a very pleasurable and did not need to be forced down. Afterwards I felt both serene and rejuvenated from the migraines, which was particularly impressive when you consider I was watching a TV series with zombies. As the Radiance Blend card says under 'brewing tips' it is 'an uplifting brew for both busy days and quiet nights', and was just the pick-me-up I needed that calm Saturday evening.

A Godly Brew, 'Monk's Blend',

Let us continue with a theme; while I realise I have still yet to review teas from January and February, I fell that, for once, I should concentrate on one thing rather than jumping around. Fear not, we will get to Frozen Summit some day (I have drank it, I have my notes, I just... Haven't written it all up). Honestly, I feel that I am gaining tea quicker than I have chance to write about them (even at once a week London Tea Club alone takes nearly the whole month and, the way things have been going recently with many a tea gifted unto me, that still leaves me with a surplus to review).


Today I'd like to introduce you to the second tea from London Tea Club's March delivery. The light and humble taste of Monk's Blend. It's a Ceylon base, with vanilla oil, grenadine and calendula petals. Such a description sounds more like a cocktail than a tea blend. I'm not sure if it technically constitutes as a Ceylon tea though; a Ceylon tea can have no less than 100% of its leaves grown and produced in Sri Lanka. Now, given that all of the actual tea is from Sri Lanka, does that mean it is a flavoured or blended Ceylon tea? Or does the addition of any other ingredient (even when it is not more tea) make it no longer Ceylon? I'm afraid I don't actually have the answer to that, but still, fun fact about it being all or nothing, right? It's a bit like 'sparkling wines', I guess; you know, how it isn't Champagne unless the grapes are grown in the Champagne region.

I actually did a little bit of research into Ceylon tea before writing this post with the intention of adding the odd entertaining anecdote, but realised that the history of Ceylon tea is not only lengthy but genuinely fascinating. The more I learn about tea the more I realise just how much this humble plant has shaped human culture. As a result, I've decided to not discuss it here, but (tea)leave it until another date, another post and dedicate it to the history of Ceylon. Honestly, it deserves it and stops this post being three times as long as it needs to be.

I decided to brew the Monk's Blend in my then new (and still newest!) teapot, my black and white yokode kyusu. 'Kyusu' is simply Japanese for 'teapot', but what really sets this teapot out from my (many) other Japanese tea ware is the 'yokode' bit, or, in English, 'side hand(le)'. Rather than having a handle that goes over the top (like most of my Japanese teapots) or a handle at the back (like most of my Western style teapots; you know, the 'classic teapot' shape), it quite literally has a handle at the side. It look a little like an earthenware saucepan with a spout. When I first bought it I thought that the 'yokode' would make pouring a little awkward and unnatural, but thought 'what the hell' and bought it anyway because it has a side handle. Honestly? I am so glad I gave in to that (somewhat expensive) whim. I get such a sense of pleasure pouring from this teapot; the movement feels far more fluid and controlled than from a teapot with an overhead or back handle. I was astounded; I never thought that pouring tea felt wrong but somehow using a yokode kyusu just feels right. It is very peculiar, but I took it over to my parents' place after I bought it and my father agreed that it was the most satisfying and instinctive ways of pouring tea.

It's bizarre. When I started this tea journey I never realised just how vastly different tea paraphernalia could be. If you ever get the chance to try out a yokode kyusu jump at it, although make sure you find one that matches your handedness (that's right! Left and right handed teapots!). That said, my left handed mother had no issues using my right handed yokode kyusu. I am in love with how pouring from the teapot feels.

As this teapot did not have any matching cups I decided to buy myself a new bowl; it's larger than most of my Japanese tea bowls and features a delightful design of swimming koi on the inside, while to outside is a plain white. It means that the koi end up swimming in the tea and allows the pattern to be seen while you drink. I thought it was a very elegant and I approved of the size. I had yet to use this bowl when I brewed Monk's Blend and, as I was using the yokode kyusu I had purchased alongside, it seemed fitting to drink my new tea from this bowl (even if it meant I was mixing tea cultures with Ceylon tea and Japanese paraphernalia).

I am getting distracted, such is my excitement for teapots and histeaory.

Monk's Blend is quite a pretty tea to look at; dark leaves flecked with lemon colour. Once brewed it is is a vibrant amber. The flavour is light, delicate and floral. As it rolls across the tongue, hints of citrus notes become apparent. There is an unmistakable fruitiness to the liquor, no doubt the result of the added grenadine. The flavours of Monk's Blend are subtle and complex; at first there is the floral, fruity bouquet, followed by a smooth and lingering after taste that is distinctly Ceylon. Overall, a very pleasant and satisfying tea.

London Tea Club say that 'we're not sure which monk invented this blend but we agree that it's heavenly' and I am wont to agree.