Tehörnan

Good morning all. I’ve been in shock for the past 24 hours and saddened, yesterday morning a pregnant woman was run over and died right in front of my house. Literally ten feet away from my front door. Though I did not know the young lady (but had seen her around before) it’s just devastating that something like this could happen, and so close to where I live. I am lucky in that I am away at the moment looking after my parents dogs and on Friday my husband stayed with me for the night so we were both here at the time of the incident. If we were home we would have seen either the crash or the aftermath, seen things that no one should have to. My heart goes out to the poor girls family.

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This tea was from the first round of the EU travelling tea box. I like the idea of a fruity, chilli, Rooibos based tea but it would have to be blended well.

In raw form it has a sweet generic fruit scent with some Rooibos thickness, I took a large sniff and ended up pulling away to sneeze so that must be the chilli coming through. My nose feels ticklish now.

My first sip reveals a sweet yet light fruity tea with some Rooibos thickness in the after taste and just a pinch of chilli. Not so much a hot chilli tea as it is flavour, though it does give a very light tingle at times.

It’s pleasant but half way down the cup the spice becomes thicker and the sweet fruit less so. Also it gets rather dry and bitty.

I think it’s a nice try at a chilli blend but it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

My second tea from the EU box.

While my husband was making this tea he said it smells like TCP, not exactly what I want in a tea. It does smell chemical, not sure it’s TCP like but maybe like a floor cleaner.

I can taste thick Rooibos and some vanilla which also has some sweetness. I can’t taste any champagne or anything similar. It’s now a bad blend but it it’s too Rooibos heavy for my personal liking. It was not a lost cause though because my husband may have disliked the scent but enjoyed the flavour.

And this is the last unlogged tea! I’ve been saving this for last, because I knew how bad this was going to be. (I tried this before, see. Once.)

This is a very nice rooibos. There’s this surprising, buttery note both in the nose and in the cup. It mingles quite deliciously with the berryful body of the tea. And then…

…chili!

Seriously, the horror.

This is the first and last chili tea I try. I love spicy food. I love chili. But in a tea? To my palate, it’s an abomination.

Which is a shame, because I’m sure someone who enjoys chili teas might really like this one – hence the (possibly surprisingly) generous grade. It’s not you, Fruity Chili, it’s me.

I’ll see if I can find a new home for it; I vaguely recollect reading ‘I love rooibos and chili teas!’ on someone’s presentation, and I will hunt this person down.

[Purchased at Tehörnan in Uppsala, fall 2012.]

Okay, so it’s this one again. I’m getting ready for dinner while performing various menial tasks around the apartment and I needed something non-caf. My plan is to hit the rooibos stash pretty hard in the near future, both to achieve some downsippage, and to keep my caffeine intake low.

I don’t quite see myself drinking all of this down, but I will give it a fair shot. I made a pot of it, and in the bag there remains enough for, well… so many more pots.

I absolutely don’t get the incense note anymore, but I honestly think that’s just because this is getting old.

So, anyone for some aging, fairly unappetizing rooibos? Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?

…and I will soldier on. After this one, there’s just one more unlogged tea in my cupboard.

This is one I’ve waited to write a note for, because I’ve found it confusing. It’s so frustrating when there’s a hint of something in terms of scent or taste that you just can’t place. But now I’ve finally figured it out. Incense!

It’s a pretty good strawberry for a simple rooibos, but the vanilla is only a scented vanilla – taste wise, it turns into a this little kick of perfumey incense.

This is not as vile as it sounds, but, either way, it’s not a favourite of mine.

[Purchased at Tehörnan in Uppsala, fall 2012.]

Here’s another basic, plain, fruity rooibos. It’s the kind of tea I’d put in my thermos on a chilly autumn day I planned to spend in the forest, hunting chanterelles.

It’s chanterelle-picking tea – robust, simple, foresty.

[Purchased at Tehörnan in Uppsala, fall 2012.]

When I got this, it was mostly an experiment – I haven’t been a fan of any artificial cherry flavouring (Dr. Pepper is death in a can.) since the liquid antibiotics incident back in ’84. Ugh.

This smelled more like berries in the store, though, so I went for it. The good news is that the berry note stays with the rooibos all the way into the cup. The bad news is that it doesn’t have a lot to do with cherry. It’s pretty bland, and it’s pretty simple. I don’t get any cardboard, but a hint of the old cardboard would have given this brew a bit more complexity, at least.

[Purchased at Tehörnan in Uppsala, fall 2012.]

Okay, so this tea is a little worse for wear, as it’s been one of my travel teas – a slowly disintegrating bag of loose leaf I just cram into my carry-on and use for my thermos on flights and in hotels.

It still smells really nice, though, both in the bag and brewed up. The dry tea is mostly generally berryful, but steeped the blueberry becomes very present.

Taste wise, the blueberry remains strong throughout. The lingonberries account for some hints of tartness, but that’s mostly it. I don’t really detect any creaminess or sour notes from the yoghurt – this is mostly just blueberry. I’d like to compare this to an all-blueberry tea at some point, to see how Very Blueberry the leaves can get before it comes off artificial.

It’s good, and sturdy, and simple. Reliable. A travel tea.

[Purchased at Tehörnan in Uppsala, fall 2012.]

I don’t technically ‘need’ this tea, particularly not as I’m moving back to Italy tomorrow morning and plan on bringing every single leaf I own, but hey, I had a discount coupon. (Any excuse is valid when it comes to tea.)

Adding this to the database was a bit more of a challenge than it usually is, seeing as ‘Mareld’, you know that eerie glow of the sea most often encountered (at least by me) in Jules Verne books, closely translates to ‘Milky seas effect’, which makes it sound like the yoghurt is far, far heavier than it is in this one.

Besides, ‘Mareld’ has this wild, poetic nuance to it, suggesting the unpredictability and mystery of nature and the elation and terror of being lost at sea, and… ‘Milky sea’ just doesn’t really do it. I know some people refer to it as sea fire, which is a fairly direct translation from the Swedish, but it doesn’t sound quite right. The scientific term would also work, I guess, but would you really drink a tea called ‘Bioluminescence’?

Well, yeah, of course you would, you tea maniacs. But I (really) digress.

(I think this is another one of those blends from Kahls sold by Tehörnan, as the only place I find any reference to it is on their website.)

In the bag, this is all berry bubblegum. But it’s a natural bubblegum, no matter how contradictory that may seem, and it does has a freshness to it that appeals to me. The scent isn’t very complex, and the simplicity carries through into the cup; this is very much a ‘what you smell is what you get’ tea. This is not as elegant as I would have hoped, and not particularly interesting. Additionally, it gets this vaguely artificial note in the cup that I can’t quite put my finger on, but that I don’t love. This is my usual problem with berry teas – they’re either too tart or too artificial-tasting.

[Purchased at Tehörnan in Uppsala, September 2013.]

The scent of the dry tea is dominated by a very melony note of prickly pear. On sight it’s definitely a rooibos, but eyes closed it smells pale green. I prefer keeping my eyes open, though, as it’s such a pretty tea – riddled with perfect little rose buds and chunks of fruit.

In the cup, it’s quite flavourful, but still manages to come off light, accessible and eminently drinkable.

[Purchased at Tehörnan in Uppsala, fall 2012.]

The scent of the dry tea really appeals to me. It holds that promise of the unexpected I always seem to be looking for, that note of ‘what could this possibly taste like?’. And this tea delivers – unfortunately to the extent that I can’t quite explain it. The cornflower is highly present in the nose as well as the cup, but the main body, both scent and taste wise, is far more elusive.

Variations of the theme occur in all the champagne and cream teas I have tried, so the simple solution would be to call it exactly that – the ‘champagne and cream’ part of the equation. (And I would. If only it tasted like champagne. Or cream.)

It’s good, though – I love this wild card. It has plenty of depth, and works very well in combination with the floral note and the slight hint of fruity vanilla.

Fairly pointless resteep.

P.S.
It drives me nuts that Tehörnan consistently misspell ‘champagne’ on their website.

P.P.S.
I don’t own this tea – my sweet lovely friend T (yes, really) always spoils me with it when I visit, and last time around I snagged a sample so I could write a tasting note. So here it is, on her birthday; much love, baby. <3

What I wrote about basic, everyday rooibos teas in this note is applicable here as well: http://steepster.com/teas/tehornan/39015-champagne-gradd-champagne-and-cream

This was my go-to rooibos in the fall, and consequently I have only just a little left. I thought I’d top this canister right up again, but after drinking it nearly back-to-back with the champagne and cream from the same store, I find myself liking that one just a little bit better.

This is similar in that it isn’t overly rooibos:y, and that it has some complexity to it, but I miss the aromatic headiness of the other cup. Still, this is along the lines of what I look for in a sturdy rooibos. The dry tea itself is pretty, studded with whole berries, and the scent has a lightness to it that I really enjoy.

[Purchased at Tehörnan in Uppsala, fall 2012.]

So this is the local Uppsala blend – I don’t know if it’s specific for Tehörnan, or if I can find it in other tea shops around town.

I got it as a gift when I bought something else – this is definitely not something I would pick out. It smells vaguely spicy in the bag, the strongest note being cinnamon. In the cup, it’s pretty much the same. Black, generic tea with a hint of cinnamon.

In other words, completely pointless. It might be tastier with milk, but I don’t think it has enough character to make an iced Japanese-style milk tea off, which is what I prefer in terms of milk additions.

Definite instant pour-out.

[Gifted at Tehörnan in Uppsala, fall 2012.]

You and me, Champagne & Cream rooibos, we’ve been together since fall 2012. And you know what? I’m still into you. You still taste and look pretty much like you used to – I’d like to think that’s mostly thanks to me, seeing as I’ve treated you lovingly, kept you in an air-tight tin in a dark, cool cupboard, written you up and introduced you to several of my friends. We’ve had a good run. We’ve been good together.

Now, in your old age, it would be predictably trite, of course, for me to discard you. But that’s just not me. I’m steadfast and loyal and true – I stick around. You might not be the freshest of my teas, nor the fanciest, but I still love you. When I commit, I commit. When I say forever, I mean forever.

What I’m saying is that I’m going to finish every last little rooibosy bit of you.

Because that’s just how I keep a promise.

I will always have a special fondness for the Swedish (=German) champagne blends, even though I know how chemical they come off to other brave Steepsterers I have exposed to them.

This is one of the few rooibos teas I will want to restock when I’m back in Sweden, and as you can tell, I’m still being a very good tea drinker, sticking to no-caf before bed.

After a trip such as the one I just returned from, I crave healthy foods so much it’s not even funny. There isn’t much in the ‘healthy, fun, pre-packaged snacks in aesthetically pleasing containers’ category here in Rome, so I made a trip to Whole Foods in NOLA to stock up before leaving. (There are two stores!) Right now, I’m eating freeze-dried apple chips, and I have serious plans to incorporate the peach chips I bought into my Project Peach proceedings.

Tomorrow I’m going to try my new super-ultra-natural-wholly-organic maple almond butter. Let’s all ponder suitable tea pairings until then.

When I first started out seriously drinking tea (and by that I mean actually emptying the cup, rather than pretending to sip and making faces of disgust when no one was looking) it was always rooibos, and always to accompany something else. So when I find myself drinking straight-forward, sturdy rooibos these days, it’s always a very deprivation-tainted, ‘hey who took my scone?’ kind of experience. It makes me want to throw an elaborate tea party. With individual menus. And five kinds of sandwiches. And three times as many kinds of cakes. More than anything, it makes me crave the afternoon tea at Mount Nelson in Cape Town, and crave it bad.

I love rooibos, but it’s occasion tea for me, not everyday tea. Not because I consider it luxurious – on the contrary I find it rather robust – but because it’s sociable tea. It’s not something I drink in solitude – it’s something I serve friends. (With a plate of scones. And three kinds of cake.)

This is one of my simple rooibos favourites. It smells so good. There’s definitely a creamy headiness to it, that makes me wish there were a floral Bailey’s to be found. It’s pretty, too, with its cornflower petals, but it’s definitely not one of those abundantly chunky teas.

I like this one best when it cools a little, as the smoothness and creaminess of the flavour are subdued in the hotter tea. The strawberry note does by no means dominate, it blends well into the floral redolence, and a hint of vanilla keeps it all together.

[Purchased at Tehörnan in Uppsala, fall 2012.]