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Is it possible to become desensitized to flavors that you drink regularly? It looks like I’m in the minority on this one, but I don’t find the chamomile in this tea overpowering. It’s certainly there in the floral scent and the mellow, vegetal sweetness, but the lemongrass and lemon balm dominate the flavor.

Well, that is A-OK with me! There’s something about a lemony herbal blend that puts me in a bedtime mood, like it’s the tea equivalent of crisp, clean sheets. This is a lovely wind-down herbal blend. I can see it becoming a standard in my cupboard.

Have you ever bought a tea just because it looked too pretty to pass up? I’d like to think I’m above this kind of thing, but yesterday I bought this matcha on impulse because the tin is cute. And I didn’t have any matcha at home. But also, the tin is cute.

This is my first unflavored matcha in quite a while. David’s Tea’s wild honey matcha used to be a staple in my cupboard for matcha lattes, so that’s the “default” flavor in my mind when I whisk up matcha. I guess that’s probably why I instantly reached for the honey and milk and made a sweetened matcha latte as soon as I opened the tin. Shame on me. I usually taste teas straight before I try any additions.

That being said, it made a highly satisfying latte. It’s quite grassy without giving that dusty, pollen-y flavor that matcha sometimes gets, and it’s hardly bitter at all — but then again, that might be the milk and honey. All in all, the impulse buy paid off! I’ll write an update when I try it on its own.

Except for the fact that it’s only early September and it got up to 90 degrees this afternoon, today was kind of a perfect fall day. I went for a walk in the woods in the morning, I baked a loaf of fresh bread when I got home, and this evening I sat down with a tea that’s named after my favorite season.

But what a letdown! First of all, let me say that I love hibiscus. It’s one of my favorite flavors, and all other things equal, if I have to pick between a tea that does have hibiscus and one that doesn’t, I’m going to go for the hibiscus. But in this blend, it gets in the way.

For the first couple of sips while the tea was still piping hot, the hibiscus was all I could taste, and somewhat faintly at that (although the cup was tart all the way through). There was a brief window at a warm-but-not-hot temperature when I got a faint hint of orange and a little of the woodsy body of the rooibos, but once this mug reached room temperature, it was back to hibiscus water. I can’t say I ever tasted the cranberry.

This tea smells beautiful in the tin and I do love hibiscus, so I’m not giving up yet. I’ll play around with how I brew it, but my hopes are not high. This is what I get for trying to rush Mother Nature.

Does anyone else think the dry teabags smell exactly like Country Time instant lemonade powder? When I was a child, my parents’ church would have coffee and lemonade in the entryway after the service on Sunday mornings, and they used that mix for the lemonade. This took me right back.

You know, some teas give you exactly what they say they will. The citric acid and hibiscus make this a tart, almost mouth-puckering tea, but the lemongrass mellows it out a little and the lemon flavor is there. I’m not amazed by this tea, but I’ll get through the box happily enough.

Okay, technically I got this tea to take to the office, but come on, who can resist trying all of the new teas ASAP when they’re delivered?

I drank this one in stages. I had about half of it hot, and the first thing I noticed was the vanilla scent. That flavor doesn’t come through as strongly on my tongue, where the flavor is dominated more by the lemongrass and the richness of the coconut. I couldn’t identify the ginger at first, but once I’d read it on the label it was clear how much the sharpness of the ginger adds. I adore coconut in a tea (and in everything else), but it can sometimes create an oily mouthfeel, and this blend avoids that: it’s more velvety than oily. Between the coconut and the tea itself, I get a nice floral aftertaste with minimal astringency.

So that was Stage 1. Then I realized I was running low on time to run a couple errands, and I had to run out of the house. By the time I got back, the tea had cooled to room temperature, and unfortunately, Stage 2 cannot compete. I couldn’t taste the green tea anymore or even much of the coconut. It was all lemongrass and ginger.

Would I drink this one cold? Nope, nope, nope. But that’s on me and my bad time management today, so based on the hot tea, this one gets an A. It’s the most I’ve enjoyed a cup of tea since I restarted the tea habit.

I’m out of my routine this morning, and this tea is part of it. I love being up in the morning, but I hate getting up, and the window in between the alarm clock going off and sitting on the sofa with my coffee is the worst part of my day. It helps if I know my coffee is almost ready, so I normally set it up after I wash the dinner dishes, but last night I had evening plans and skipped the coffee routine. Big mistake. Turns out I’m almost out of coffee and can’t eke out a pot, or even a cup.

So tea it is! I got one bag of this English Breakfast as a sample in a recent order, and it’s fine for what it is. English Breakfast isn’t a style that sets me up for success because I’m prone to oversteeping, and I find the astringency of oversteeped English Breakfast stomach-turning. I was careful this time, though, and I’m … not not enjoying this cup. It has a pleasant earthy and toasty flavor, noticeably tart, with a sweet, almost agave-like aftertaste. I can’t imagine I’ll buy it again, but it did the job for me today.

Every time I drink unsweetened, unflavored chamomile, I remember the first time I drank pure chamomile. It seemed so improbable to me that a single flower could produce a tea that’s both grassy and almost farmy but at the same time so sweet. The magic of chamomile is that no matter how often I drink it, the sweetness is always a surprise and a pleasure.

I got a single bag of this as a sample with a larger order. I brewed it in a glass mug, and I’m glad that I did, because it produces a beautiful, bright yellow, almost golden liquor. I expected an apple flavor but don’t quite find it, although I’m enjoying the hay-like flavor so much that I don’t miss it at all. I’m going to need more of this one.

Maybe it’s the habitual hot tea drinker in me or maybe I’m just afraid to be happy, but I am not a fan of spring or summer. I start to feel like I’ve had my annual fill of warmth and sunshine by about early June most years. Right now, I am dying for fall.

That being said, if there’s such a thing as a perfect summer day, today was that day. It was properly cool in the morning, and by the middle of the afternoon it was warm without feeling sticky, it was sunny, and bam! All of a sudden I had a desperate craving for David’s Tea’s Just Peachy, which used to be a hot-weather staple of mine.

Alas, there’s none in my cupboard right now, but at least I had some Country Peach Passion. It doesn’t have the same fruity-candy juiciness to it, but the peachy scent was some consolation. I brewed two teabags in 12 oz. of water, then drank it iced. Not bad at all.

Lately I’ve had a bad habit of working late. Too late, as in, get-an-idea-and-start-something-new-at-9-PM late. I must know deep down that it’s a poor choice, because I’ve also taken to brewing a cup of this honey vanilla chamomile while I’m at it, as if to counter my poor sleep habits with a tea that at least gestures toward winding down for the night.

For me, this tea is more of an olfactory than a gustatory experience. The chamomile is pleasant, and I do taste an extra sweetness from the honey flavor, but the vanilla doesn’t come through in my mouth at all. Nor does the orange peel, now that I’m looking at the label. But I do smell the vanilla, and it adds a little sense of decadence to the comforting chamomile.