I saved these two teas to try as a taste test, since from my reading, I really didn’t respond to the notes that marked both teas as having a candy quality. That’s just not my preference. These are both from Germany, and the teashop said that most of the artificial tasting tea comes from Germany, because it is an advanced technological culture, and other cultures, especially in China and Japan, use more natural ingredients because that is essentially what they have to work with. I can’t help but think it’s something more than that. Over the past two weeks I have had so many experiences with tea, and I think the Jasmines are a perfect encapsulation that to get a sweet quality you don’t have to artificially flavor something. Maybe technology is too easy to lean on, or become enamored with.
I didn’t spend much time with these teas, as their descriptions leave nothing to the imagination, but it is interesting to note that the flavor reminded me of a Victorian robot gathering, a combination of embroidery, lace and metal, sitting in a sunlit room, with light reflecting off of its body. Pomegranate green could be permeating the room with its strict forcefulness, while Moroccan mint could be in the cups they drank. It could be the sensation of a post human world. The other teas I tried pushes against this idea, with the suggestion that a tempered vision of the past and present could be the most healing thing we can engage with.
What have we lost with the tastes of these teas? Neither are subtle, like the other teas which have a definite pattern of growth and change as the arc of their experience changes as you engage with it. Each small cup, each infusion, is different with the natural teas. It is more reflective of our organic world, and it can connect us to the passing of time, and the beauty of our lived experience.