This tea has multiple-personality disorder. At times, it tasted like a smooth, non-sour, lemony yerba mate/green tea blend in rather delicious synchronization, a whole noticeably better than the sum of parts. Neither mate nor lemon are favorites of mine, yet the balance of them somehow worked in those sips. I almost broke into a refrain of, "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing"! Yet as the consumption process proceeded, Jekyll turned to Hyde turned to Sybil, and back again.

All along, about every third or fourth sip, I noticed *either* (but never both in the same sip) a decidedly grassy backdrop (also common in the dry-bag aroma), or a bitter veneer that made the whole taste and aftertaste resemble the early-'80s formulation of Creomulsion cough medicine. [Younger folks, that was wretched stuff, trust me.] The flavor gyrated between all of the above from sip to sip like strobing disco lights, but with less sinusoidal periodicity or predictability.

Is it the tea that can't decide what it wants to be? Or is it the drinker who can't decide what the tea is? If it were consistently the smooth and well-balanced concoction of the harmonious sips, I'd rate this blend much higher regardless of my disregard for two of the base ingredients. As it is, I'm rather spooked at the vast disparity of experiences within the same cup—something unique to my tea-drinking experience. Rod Serling's intro music plays in my head...

Add your own review

Login or Sign Up to comment on this review.