Right off the initial rinse, this tea just smells big and juicy.
The aroma is mouth-watering.
In the early steepings, I picked up a sweetness like dried mango, paired with a gut-warming bitterness and a bright citric acidity. The floral notes started to shine through in the middle, and the bitterness began to subside, allowing the sweetness to take center stage. Towards the end, the tea became slightly earthy, but the main focus was definitely its lasting sweetness--like cotton-candy sweet.
This tea maintained a vibrant amber throughout the entirety of my session. I had to tap out before the color faded. Glen's not lying when he says this tea can easily brew +20 infusions.
I really understand what Crimson Lotus is saying about the unsweetened baking chocolate, or just really dark chocolate. For me, it's not so much the taste, but the mouthfeel. This tea coats the mouth with a pleasantly-bitter sensation very similar to eating dark chocolate.
About 2-3 steepings in, this tea was packing a prominent yet well-balanced sourness, making my cheeks pucker up and salivate like crazy. That saliva-inducing quality is one of my favorite aspects of drinking sheng, so this was a delight that it came on so quickly and lingered.
This tea hit me like:
I'm going to be blunt: I love this tea.
It's sweet, bitter, sour, fruity, and floral. After watching Glen's YouTube video (Click Here), I bought a beeng without sampling it, and it was the right move, 100%. At $50.00USD/200g, it's literally at the cut-off of what I personally consider to be budget-friendly: $0.25USD/1g.
(I'm in the process of creating a post to establish this blog's price brackets, hopefully I'll have that posted by this weekend.)
If I had a larger budget, hands down this would be in my daily arsenal. The quality of this tea speaks for itself: the liquor is clean and crisp, and the leaves have incredible endurance. In a nutshell, this is an incredible choice for all levels of drinkers. This is the perfect choice for drinkers who are no longer beginners, and are willing to pay a bit more to see what the next price-bracket of teas have to offer without breaking the bank.
Crimson Lotus is about to release their Spring 2017 productions, and you'd be really missing out if you don't at least pick up a sample with your next order.
*Sheng Gut has no affiliation with Crimson Lotus Tea; this review was not commissioned. However, the lack of commission was not by choice. It's never by choice...blah blah blah, you get it. I'm just trying to hustle. I'm up in here trying to get a mo-fuckin' scholarship. I don't give a fuck about discretion. I pulled someone's jawbone off. Ask Craig Robinson.** He seent it.
**These asterisks are becoming more and more arbitrary each post. From this point forward, let's just assume that they're completely meaningless, just like everything else in this absurd and indifferent universe.
Just Before the Circumcision of Abraham
Today, my Lord, I have done exactly as you commanded. In accordance with our sacred and everlasting covenant, I gathered every male in my household—whether purchased as a slave or formed from the sweet nectar of my loins—and, with the sharpest knife I could find, liberated each and every man’s penis from his foreskin, signifying that never, in all the years of his life, shall he be severed from the glory and honor of Your chosen people.
And now, my Eternal Father, as the sun disappears below the sand-dusted horizon, signaling the end of Your blessed day, it comes my turn to liberate my own penis from its foreskin-husk, much like a farmer shucks an ear of corn, revealing its bountiful fruit…
But I am ashamed to admit, my Lord, that after all I have experienced—after a long and bloody day of filleting penises like a butcher, after bearing witness to the excruciating pain, to the horror in the eyes of every man from my young son Ishmael to my biggest, strongest, and most well-built slave—I am hoping that maybe, if it’s not too late, we could, perhaps—between the two of us—establish a different symbol of our covenant.
Just say the word and I will use this knife, though it has been dulled by the day's good work, and—in place of my foreskin—slit the throat of each and every lamb, calf, and cock in my possession, draining its blood upon the sacred floor of Your holy altar.
All You must do is send me a sign.
Even the most minuscule of signs will do, such as an ant skittering across my bedchamber, or a mosquito buzzing just past my ear—or, if You prefer, simply a bird flying across the ever-darkening sky. Reveal any such sign and at once I will arouse each of my loyal shepherds to herd his flock to the place of the sacrificial slaughter, forever sealing our glorious covenant.
Are You listening, my Lord?
Strangely, I see not a single ant, mosquito, or bird anywhere in sight.
Are You there?
Please, forgive me, Father, for I know You work in mysterious ways, but, for the life of me—no matter how hard I pray—I cannot understand the connection between the detachment of my foreskin and the multiplication of my land and descendants. Wouldn’t it make more sense, my Lord, for me to keep my penis fully in-tact—foreskin and all—to ensure the successful conception of the countless decedents of which You speak?
For just a moment, consider the symbol of Your covenant with Noah—the rainbow: so gentle and tranquil and relevant. Perhaps we could share something similar. We could do away with any further mutilation and bloodshed, and, instead, as a constant reminder of our sacred bond, simply look to the midnight sky, for You said it Yourself that You will multiply my offspring “as the stars of Heaven.” What better symbol than the actual stars?
I beg You, Heavenly Father, not to interpret my questioning as insubordination, for I am fully prepared now, at a moment’s notice, to obey Your command, if this is truly Your divine will—if, above all the other infinite signs, symbols, and proclamations, it is Your heavenly wish that I use this bent, dull, blood-crusted blade to shear my foreskin like wool from a sheep.
Do not be mistaken, for I am ready and willing to set my penis free.
I just want to be absolutely certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there is nothing else that would give You greater pleasure, because once I make the first incision, there will be no turning back.
As I said before, my Lord, I am ready.
The knife is in my right hand and my flaccid penis in the other. Watch as I lay it, gently, like a candle atop Your blessed altar. See me tug my foreskin well over the tip, smoothing its wrinkles with the flat of my thumb, fully prepared to meet the swift chop of the iron blade—which I must stress a third time, is very, very dull.
Father, it is now or never.
The knife is but a camel’s hair away!
For the love of all that is holy, send me a mother-fucking sign!