Oh, holy horror.
So my friend K is a sweetheart in every possible way. We were talking about tea at some point in December and she said she had this amazing tea I had to try, which, in fact, was Italian. And I was delighted, because hey – some Italian looseleaf company I had yet to hear of, awesome.
And then she brought me a bag of this.
I obviously felt like the biggest tea snob, but it was like someone telling you you had to taste the most delicious meat dish on earth, and then they drop an unskinned, smelly polecat in your lap.
So.
Hibiscus tea.
Bagged hibiscus tea.
All accompanied by this ‘Oh, this is the best thing ever!’ bounciness. It was hilarious.
But of course I decided to try it! K is awesome, if she loved it, it couldn’t be all that bad, I figured.
First of all, this is the most potent tea dye I have ever seen. I don’t know if I’ll dare look in the mirror after my first sip, for I fear my teeth will turn a deep crimson. This tea bag bleeds in the most unsavoury way possible. I swear I could paint a wall with it.
Steeped, it smells of… absolutely nothing. But it’s very, very red.
Oh man.
This is the worst tea I have had in my life. It tastes like sour blood. There’s this vile, metallic tone to it, which is disturbingly meaty, and the sourness is completely out of hand.
I am laughing so hard right now, but I have to take one more sip for science.
Okay.
Yes, still equally bad, if not worse – it tastes like sour, juiceleaky meat wrapped in paper.
What have I learned from this?
a) Tea snobbery can save lives.
b) I love my friends, maybe especially when they’re trying to kill me.
[Assassination attempt by K, Rome 2013.]
Boiling, 5 min