After two minutes in 180° water, the leaves have unfurled nicely. They are somewhat small, but well over half are completely unbroken. Its honey-coloured liquor smells typically of jasmine and green tea. It smells surprisingly well-balanced. The cup is light, floral, and a touch fruity. This isn’t an in-your-face jasmine tea, and it has a touch of bitterness, but I have to respect that this is different from most jasmine pearls in that you can easily taste the base tea.

My second, 3-minute steep is less tea and more jasmine. It is one of the few scented/flavoured teas where I actually prefer the second steep to the first. I’m not sure if I prefer it to others I’ve tried, but it is a nice change of pace and probably well-suited for people who like jasmine but don’t love it.

I heaped aplenty of fruit into my cup and steeped it with boiling water for some indeterminate amount of time. Precise, I know, but I figure with herbals, as long as you let them infuse for at least 5 minutes, anything above that doesn’t much matter, so I threw it together and wandered off for 15 minutes or so. The prepped liquid looks exactly like pink lemonade and luxurious, indeed. It’s quite strong, which is somewhat hard to find in fruit blends. I love the dimension the rosebuds add – they make the whole experience have more depth rather than just sweet fruitiness.

My main issue with this blend is that it’s sweet. Very, very sweet. I like my teas like I like my marriage: bitter. I can’t remember the last time I added sugar to a tea that wasn’t iced, which made me think this would be a great candidate for throwing in the fridge and drinking on this exceedingly chilly day. Time passes, and here I am drinking a cup that I still find a bit on the sweet side, but certainly unique and interesting. If you like sweet herbals, this is right on the money, but it’s not perfect for me. Still probably a great herbal to have around to ice by the bucketful on hot days.

This specific sample from TET is most notably different from other Oolongs in its presentation. Typically, Chinese Oolong is either rolled into longer leaves, or packed into tight little ball-like pellets. This tea takes the latter approach, but in a lazy manner. There are all sorts of tea leaf dustings in the mix, as well as some sloppily-rolled balls, and some leaves that were apparently not balled up at all. If presentation is your thing, I would guess you might be appalled by this tea, visually. That said, while I definitely appreciate the beauty in the quality control department, it’s ultimately the taste that counts. Let’s see how that measures up.

Upon first whiff of the dried leaf, I was expecting to be unimpressed with this tea, as the vegetal grassiness eminent in the aroma was not appealing to my tastes. However, I was very pleased with the end result in the cup. I brewed up two teaspoons of tea in sub-boiling water for two minutes, and stuck with this for repeated infusions and fresh cups. A two minute brew is recommended as a general across-the-board suggestion for all teas by The Exotic Teapot, which I do take issue with, considering the overall vagueness there, but alas, I found that to be a fine starting point with this tea. The cup brews up a gentle shade of yellow-green and smells faintly vegetal, but not quite so much as the dried leaf. At initial sip, the taste seems bland, but as the cup cools, the flavor intensifies a bit.

This is a nice-enough “green-flavor” Oolong, with a toned down vegetal flavor overall, and a semi-sweet finish. However, after the sweetness in the finish wears off, I found a metallic coppery taste lingering. In addition, the flavor in the cup may be a bit too light for any serious Oolong aficionado.

When my sample of this fruit tisane arrived at my home, it was obvious to me that this was no average fruit tisane. It looks more like a fruity trail mix. In fact, out of curiosity, I actually plucked out a couple pieces of the pineapple and ate them. They tasted pretty much like you would expect them to when consuming trail mix. While Exotic Teapot only lists the ingredients in this as hibiscus, apple, citrus, and wild rose buds, I can tell you that there are a lot of different fruit pieces in this. I venture to guess that there are pineapples, papayas and white raisins and likely some other fruits.

I prepared this using water brought to a full boil and infused for about 5-6 min. When I returned to the empty my tea maker, I was quite surprised to find that the liquid was a golden peach in color. I found that very odd as pretty much anything with hibiscus in it is usually a shade of berry red. The flavor profile is actually quite good and reminds a bit of a tropical fruit cocktail juice except not nearly as syrupy and sweet. I thought the flavor profile tasted mostly like pineapples and apples with a touch papaya. However, I suspect that how you scoop this blend might affect the flavor profile as the pieces are quite large. The hibiscus actually added just some slight tartness to the blend that I actually feel was needed as this is very naturally sweet. Because of that sweetness, I would also encourage drinkers to hold off on adding any sugar until they have had an opportunity to taste it. At the suggestion of the Exotic Teapot, I prepared a glass of this iced as well. I will tell you that however it good it is as a hot drink, it is even better iced. I found it to be light, fruity and refreshing.

Overall, this a very unique and delicious fruit infusion. It tastes fairly tropical in nature with pineapple, apple, and papaya leading the flavor profile. I love that fact that the hibiscus did not dominate this tisane. I have been looking for one like this for a very long time. Overall, I highly recommend this one.

These Jasmine Pearls are not unlike most other pearl tea in size and shape. Resembling tightly-knit miniature Barbie-sized balls of yarn, each pearl is crafted from two baby green tea leaves, which are hand-rolled and then “hand-scented” multiple times with jasmine blossoms. I’m not entirely sure how the “hand scenting” process goes, but I envision a tea factory worker coming home after a hard day’s labor to their spouse, and just smelling incredible. The aroma in the bag is unmistakably jasmine, and has an intriguing savory spiciness behind it.

I retained a 3 minute brew on average for most of my infusions. My experience with other Jasmine Pearl teas, as well as this one, proves that a variety of temperatures and steeping times work with this tea, and you really can do no wrong with it. As the tea brews up in the pot (I prefer Adagio’s clear ingenuiTEA mug for all my tea brewing, but especially for the Pearl teas and Oolong teas, as it’s so fun to watch the leaves unfurl!), the Pearls unwind to present a full leaf shape. It’s rather shocking to see how large the leaves are that become so compressed in their tiny ball-like form. A first infusion does the majority of the unfurling, but a second steep allows the leaves to unwind even further, ultimately filling the pot with much more density. The second cup retains a decent amount of jasmine flavor, but not quite as much as the first. As such, a second cup is more heavy on the green tea side, and a bit astringent and flat – particularly when at the upper end of the temperature spectrum. I recommend a shorter infusion with slightly cooler water on the second cup as a result. As the cup cools, it becomes more honey-like in flavor and mouthfeel.

This is a nice Jasmine Pearl tea that meets expectations — yet falls a little short on the second infusion.

The most notable aspect of this blend is the texture. It’s a very precise mark on the scale, softer than the median, yet full and whole. It’s rounded and washes away smoothly, with a unique shift in flavor and texture post-swallow. This is a drinking tea – enjoyable in the fashion of juice or cider – rather than a thinking tea.

A mid-tone oolong flavor wraps around this unusual texture selection, unlocking an experience of ease. This is a sophisticated version of the goal of bottled beverages. It’s a tea to move with. It’s a tea to progress and achieve with. The flavor composition contains elements of lemongrass, radicchio, and buttered cattails. It is unique and it is enjoyable.

The website says to steep three minutes (or until the bundle unfurls) at 85 degrees, which I assume is Celsius, so that’d be 185 Fahrenheit. The presentation was pretty, but not divine. For whatever reason, my bloom couldn’t figure out which direction was down, and the beautiful flowers spent much of the time blooming against the topside of my clear teapot. No matter though, since it was still pretty enough, and I certainly don’t blame the company for my misfortune.

I didn’t find the flavour of this first steep particularly compelling. It was smooth and good, but a little too light to jump out of the cup. I decided to wait on writing numbers down until I tried again with less water. On this first infusion, I completely filled my 24 ounces teapot, so for try number two, I added only 14 ounces and left it for 3 1/2 minutes. While the other attempt was good, I found this one significantly more appealing. If you’re looking for quantity, and decide to steep it with three cups of water, you won’t be disappointed, but today I’m digging the stronger version. I managed to get two more steeps in this manor, so I still got a pleasantly full bladder by the end of it all.

Long story short: The overall flavour is good. I’m not feeling the need to dance for joy while drinking this, but it’s a step above flowering teas created merely for show. You can buy 10 of these large blooms for £9, which is a reasonable price for a good bundle, even after converting to US or even (gasp) Canadian dollars. I can’t say I recommend this with unwavering enthusiasm, but I recommend it.

The attraction of a supple, expanding, bountiful bouquet, however, cannot be denied or ignored. The fact that most Blooming teas taste terrible can be forgiven, after all I’m sure there isn’t enough garlic, mirepoix, and olive oil in the world to make the Mona Lisa’s smile taste like anything but oil, paint, generations of cigarette smoke, and burlap.

The bundle strongly resembled a haystack, being primarily a vertical stack with the two teardrop shaped blooms pointing from the top. When steeped the base expands rapidly and pulls the bundle back down to the bottom of the pot. The blooms open revealing a composite flower with yellow Marigold blooms encircling the red globe Amaranth which are in turn topped with the small white jasmine blossoms. The arrangement blatantly resembles a bouquet in a very clear and appealing way, creating a pleasantly intimate visual sure to add passion to an evening for two (or three, or twelve, I don’t judge).

Poured off to my cup the flavor was shockingly approachable and tasty. I wouldn’t buy this tea for its flavor, but the flowery cup serves as a gentile resolution to the beauty of the bloom. The flowers are strong, and fully present in the cup, covering the slight bittering of the white tea base I warned against above. I would fully recommend this tea to anyone, maybe not as a daily drinker, but surely as something to add visual punch to a special moment.

There are two famous stories about how “Iron Goddess of Mercy” tea got its name. In the more familiar one, a devout Buddhist farmer is given the first tea tree by the Goddess of Mercy, Guanyin (also known as Kwan Yin, Kannon, and Avolokitshivara), who instructs him to share it with others. Depending on who is telling the story, the “iron” epithet comes either from the fact that the tea leaves were dark green tinged with red around the edges, like rust, or that the tea has a slightly metallic taste, which I have found to be the case with many samples.

The second, less often told story, is about a scholar who failed his imperial exams and went mountain climbing to enjoy the sunset each day. (I’m not sure what one has to do with the other but I didn’t write the story.) One day he found a leafy branch growing out of crack in some rocks and, for reasons known best to himself, he took it home to his garden and nurtured it. It was, of course, a tea tree. He discovered the brew, and took some to his teachers. They were impressed and gave some to their higher ups. One thing led to another until the tea found its way to the famous emperor, Chien Lung of the Ching Dynasty. Delighted, the emperor called for the scholar, who informed the emperor that the tea was grown under the Kuan-yin rock and weighed as much as metal. This was how the emperor named the tea. (From The Way of Tea by Master Lam Kam Chuen)
Frankly, I like the first story better.

Dry, these tea leaves are in thick, dark green twists like little fists, and have a faintly grassy aroma. I brewed two heaping teaspoons gong fu style in a 4 oz Yixing teapot. (I prefer gong fu brewing for oolongs, but similar results can be achieved with a smaller brewing cup with a lid to hold in the heat and steam. A good amount of leaf and multiple short steepings should yield good results.)

I first covered the leaves with 175F water and immediately poured it off. Some Chinese tea masters call this “foot water.” I then filled the pot, poured hot water over it (it’s in a bowl), and let it stand for about 30 seconds—the time it takes for the hot water to evaporate from the sides of the pot. The resulting liquor was a clear golden yellow, and the fragrance was, fortunately, fruity rather than grassy. The flavor was mouth filling, light, and sweet like fresh grapes or lychee, but very light, with just an underlying hint of that bright-edged taste that reminds me of metal, but not in an unpleasant way at all. As the tea cooled both sweetness and fragrance continued to improve. Each sip left a pleasant taste and scent at the back of my mouth.

The previous infusion had left the leaves partially open. I brewed the second in the same manner and let it steep a few seconds longer. The liquor was a bit darker this time, the fragrance a little heavier and richer. With oolongs the second cup is so often the best. This is borne out with the first sip. The liquor was noticeably thicker, more mouth filling, the flavors more pronounced and deep, and there was just a hint of nuttiness. It left a distinctly tactile sensation on my tongue, like a light coating of oil. This is not the best oolong, or Tieguanyin, I’ve had, but it’s a very good one.
The third infusion was again golden and fragrant, but the sweetness was lighter, and there was a touch of astringency. So far was as if I’d been served three different teas, each of them very refreshing.

As I said, this is not the best Tieguanyin I’ve had, but it’s very good, and at roughly $9.50 for about 2.5 oz, it would be a very fine everyday tea.