When I finally opened the tin this afternoon, the smell reminded me of what I like best about a tea: ancient memories, robust attitude, earthy feel, natural appeal. I was sure that my lap would sing Souchong. But that is where it ended.
There is a famous story about how this tea is processed. Heroic soldiers in China, capturing a town; they wanted to put some tea they had stolen on the market, so to speak, but it was not yet dry and so they cast it over a raging fire, probably the one they had been using to consume the rest of the goods they could not have carried with them after destroying the village.
Well in my opinion, they should have never taken it off. The smell is fantastic, but I feel like I've bought pine-water. There's another, less old story about a dog, and Americans now have a certain saying from that story. You know that phrase about a dog that's not worth fearing? "All bark, and no bite"?
That's what this is.
All smell, no palate.
"I personally do like the Lapsang
but most people probably would prefer it
in a blend
such as the Scottish Breakfast."
Very poetic, Joe is. He captures my soul with that. Kudos to Joe. Hey Joe, I'll trade ya. ;)
P.S.-> As always, clicking on the link will show you the subject of the post. :)