The Republic of Tea: Blackberry Sage

Did you ever think "Mmm-mm, boy, I wish I had some cough syrup emulsified in a a bottle of water, so that I could get the delicious taste of Dimetapp or Robitussin while still quenching my thirst?"

No? This one probably isn't for you, then.



I've always been fond of the plastic bottles Republic of Tea uses, even though the pleasantly Taj-Mahal-evocative shape is really just to distract you while you don't notice they are robbing you absolutely blind. The bottles are fun to hold, and they're quirkily adorable; I love the way they look in the fridge. And I'm always looking for different unsweetened bottled teas to try out, because the amount of money I give to Ito En could easily beat out the GDP of several African nations, and because I like to try new things.

"Blackberry sage!" I thought enthusiastically, as I picked up the bottle. "Well, golly! I love blackberries, and sage always reminds me of when I lived in the desert. Three dollars for twelve ounces? Well, then it must be really good! Yay for trying new things!"

No. My friends, this is not a winner.

The Republic of Tea-produced copy of what this brew is supposed to taste like informs me that I should be experiencing a "slightly minty flavor" of "uncommon quality." As a more corrected opinion of what you will experience, I offer "cough medicine" or possibly "dishwater." The "uncommon quality" they speak of is that it makes you curl up your nose in utter distaste as you're sipping it. The sage is nowhere to be found. As if to give you a final kick in the pants once it makes it over your taste buds, the stuff actually has a very nasty, stinging sensation in the throat as it goes down.

I have a feeling the Republic of Tea and I will do battle again ("battle" meaning "they knock me down and rob me blind for twelve ounces of their crappy, pretentious little brew.") With such delightful flavors as "Pink Lemonade Green Tea" and "Kiwi Pear Decaf White Tea," I fear this will not be our last encounter. No, we are not finished here, Republic of Tea. We are not finished here.

Rating:

Notes: Yuck. This is the first RoT (heh) pre-brewed blend I have tried, but for $3 for 12 dinky little ounces, it would need to be about 500% more spectacular than it is.

Tune in! A few days from now we're having a Bottled Jasmine Cage Match: Adagio v. Ito En.

Dr. Andrew Weil & Ito En: Canned Gyokuro

I'm a big fan of Ito En's bottled teas and a big fan of things endorsed by Dr. Weil, so this can only be good. Plus, I firmly believe that products are better when they have a picture of a laughing bearded man on them.

Gyokuro, meaning "jade dew," for its pale green color, is a traditional type of Japanese green tea that's carefully shaded as it grows. The lack of sunlight makes the tea plants produce more chlorophyll, which means the resultant infusion is naturally sweet. It's very distinctive, and usually pointed out as one of the finest grades of green available from Japan. Buying it in loose leaf is usually fairly expensive, and this teeny-tiny 8oz can was $1.79, the same price as Ito En's 16.9oz bottles. You apparently pay quite a markup for the Bearded Elderly Man Seal of Approval.

I've never had cold gyokuro before, but it turns out this is fairly good - although it goes against your instincts, since I wanted to drink it very slowly to savor the gyokuro flavor, yet it was cold, I was thirsty and it was quite a temptation to just guzzle the entire baby-can in ten seconds or so.

The canned gyokuro is surprisingly tasty. Gyokuro can taste wretched if it's not brewed properly, which combined with how expensive it is means I'm usually too poor and too lazy to make it. This is definitely a nice brew, with a light and delicate, sweet vegetal flavor. You initially taste a very light sencha, which then deepens quickly into the natural sweetness that gyokuro is prized for. Once you've swallowed, the aftertaste is nice and grassy, and the that lightens and leaves a lingering sweetness on your tongue. I'm a little surprised that essentially the entire fun gyokuro experience is available in this can, and I didn't even have to get out my loose-leaf brewing pot (or get out of my chair, for that matter).

So, I'm torn. On one hand, this is the only pre-brewed gyokuro that I know of, and it's actually pretty good if you can avoid drinking the whole can on the first sip. On the other hand, Ito En is charging me $1.79 for a little over a cup measure full of it. Apparently proceeds from the Bearded Man Seal of Approval cans go to the Weil Foundation's holistic medicine research, so at least I can convince myself that I'm drinking tea for a good cause when I inevitably buy a cart full of these tomorrow.

Dr. Andrew Weil & Ito En: Gyokuro

Rating:

Notes: EXPENSIVE. No more expensive that most bottled drinks, but sort of disturbing to pay $1.79 for a can that looks like one of those little silly tomato juice cans you get at brunch. If you're really thirsty, or looking to be refreshed, this is not your bottled drink - try one of Ito En's 16.9 oz bottles of regular Pure Green or Jasmine Green. If you're looking for an enjoyable tea experience, or want to try gyokuro without the song and dance it requires to prepare, I recommend it.