The other day while I was thinking about all of the different types of teas and their personalities, the thought occurred to me that...

If Earl Grey is the hedge fund of teas, then it’s only fair to say that:

Matcha is a startup and Chamomile is a trust fund.

And once you see it, you can’t unsee it.

Matcha bursts onto the scene with big ideas and bigger energy.

She’s bright, highly visible, and full of ambition. Matcha believes in disruption. She has a pitch deck. She talks about optimization, efficiency, and “maximizing potential.”

Matcha doesn’t steep — she launches.

She delivers immediate focus and the unmistakable sense of “I could do anything right now.” She’s the tea you drink when you’re building something, pushing boundaries, or working late fueled by vision and adrenaline.

Physically, matcha offers:

• sustained energy

• enhanced concentration

• antioxidants

Energetically, she activates the solar plexus and third eye — confidence, clarity, and drive.

Today’s tea felt like walking into an unexpected garden party that you only found out about when a friend asked you last minute to be their plus one.  

It's called Wellness Tea, by Creano, an organic blend featuring spearmint, nettle leaves, fennel, lemon balm, licorice root, green tea, mate, with natural notes of grapefruit, spirulina, and burdock root—and the first thing that crossed my mind was this... This tea is like a Chex Mix situation. Individually, each ingredient is interesting. But together, they become something better than the sum of their parts.

Meet the Guests...

The back porch door opens, and Spearmint is the first to arrive, chatting away and instantly uplifting, Spearmint is the one who opens the windows, makes everyone breathe deeper, and gets fresh with you.  If Spearmint was a zodiac sign, he would be a Gemini. Bright, refreshing and quick-witted. Spearmint clears the air and gets conversation flowing. A Gemini energy through and through — light, clever, and...

Earl Grey does not chase attention. Attentio gravitates to him. 

If Earl Grey were a man, he would arrive precisely when expected, impeccably dressed, and already preceded by his reputation. 

Conversations would subtly shift in his direction. Someone would straighten their posture as he walked by while someone else would suddenly remember an event they were hoping he might attend.

He is distinguished without effort, evocative without trying, and universally appealing. The ladies adore him. The gentlemen study him carefully, wondering how one acquires such ease.

Earl Grey’s secret lies in his contrast.

At his core, he is black tea—solid, reliable, grounded. He has substance and depth. He shows up and he handles responsibility with quiet competence.

And then there is bergamot, the unexpected rare twist.  Bergamot is the silk lining in his tailored jacket. The flash of personality behind his composure. The reason you remember him long after he has left the room.

This combination ma...

By mid-afternoon, something very specific happens.

The mind begins to dull and grow sleepy.
The body wants a little lift, usually with a snack.
The spirit glances at the clock in the office and thinks, Surely it’s snack/tea time somewhere.

And that is precisely when three co-workers,  Black Tea, Jasmine, and Bergamot found themselves in the same office kitchen, each looking for a quick pick-me-up.

Black Tea arrived first, of course. He's dependable, capable and slightly overworked. Entering the break room, he loosened his tie, rolled up his sleeves, cracked his neck left and right and said, “Right then. Let’s find something to get through the rest of the day.”

Jasmine floated into the room next, almost unnoticed at first. She didn’t need caffeine—she was longing for something to center her instead. She leaned against the counter, breathing in, reminding everyone that not everything needed to be done urgently to be done well.

Next, Bergamot burst through the door next, bright-eyed ...

Today’s tea arrived softly, like a sweet memory from long ago.

I chose Jasmine Green Tea, and as the description on the box reminded me, jasmine is not a daytime flower. Jasmine blooms at night. She opens up after the sun has set, releasing her fragrance into the dark after the external world grows quiet and all of our senses become more open and receptive.

Traditionally, jasmine flowers are picked at night, precisely when their scent is at its most potent. Later, those blossoms are layered again and again with green tea leaves, allowing the tea to slowly absorb jasmine’s perfume. It’s a patient process. A devotional one. The tea is not sprayed —it is all about divine timing, it can not be pushed or rushed.

That alone tells you everything you need to know about jasmine’s energy.

This tea carries the wisdom of ancient rituals rooted in China, where jasmine tea has been cherished for centuries not just for its flavor, but for its ability to calm the mind, open the heart, and refi...

 This morning, I enjoyed what the British refer to as a Full English Breakfast—and let me assure you, when the word full is involved, it is not to be taken lightly.

A proper Full English is not merely a meal. It is a declaration and a culinary assurance that one shall face the day fortified, steady, and entirely unflappable.

And of course, presiding over this noble affair was a perfectly brewed cup of English Breakfast tea—bold, brisk, and unwaveringly reliable, from Twinings.

Traditionally, a Full English breakfast is an ensemble cast:

Eggs, cooked with intention.
Toast, unapologetically present.
Bacon or sausage, depending on one’s household and moral philosophy.
And sometimes mushrooms or tomatoes, included to maintain balance and a sense of virtue.

It is a breakfast designed not for haste, but for fortitude. One does not rush a Full English. One sits with it and reflects upon the day ahead, while nodding approvingly at the tea.

English Breakfast Tea is the cornerstone of thi...

Dear Gentle Reader, yes, you caught me. There are two tea stories today. Yesterday had its way with me, picking me up and saying time is going out the window today and you will do as we please. So I was unable to send the Christmas tea article off until this morning. I hope you enjoyed it all the same. And now, I'm going to have my fun with 'Time" and write a story for it today...

Today’s tea unfolded less like a beverage… and more like a story.

Because as I sipped my cup of Chai tea with cinnamon, something became abundantly clear to me: these are not ordinary spices.

Chai and Cinnamon are astral time travelers.

Stay with me. haha

Chai is the seasoned one — ancient, layered, worldly. He has walked through empires, caravans, temples, and kitchens across centuries. He knows stories. He has opinions. He carries cardamom wisdom in his pockets and understands the long arc of human ritual.

Cinnamon, on the other hand, is fiery, bold, mischievous, and always slightly ahead of the cur...

A Cup Filled With Ancestral Winter Magic

Today’s tea came with a built-in soundtrack. The moment I opened the packet—“Christmas Tree” from Whittard—I could practically hear a German choir humming in the background.

The blend is a festive trio of citrus, clove, and vanilla, and from the very first inhale, it felt like stepping into the heart of an old-world Christmas market—warm, spiced, fragrant, glowing with traditions older than the ornaments on our modern trees.

And that’s fitting, because Germany is the birthplace of the Christmas tree tradition as we know it today. Long before twinkling lights and shiny baubles, evergreen trees were brought indoors as symbols of life in the dead of winter—reminders that even during the darkest months, the spirit remains evergreen.

So sipping this tea today felt beautifully ancestral… as if I’d been invited into a candlelit wood cottage somewhere in the Black Forest, with snow falling softly outside and a warm mug placed into my hands by...

Today’s tea transported me farther than any cup has so far.

I opened the packet and instantly felt the whisper of another world — Marrakech Mint Green Tea, fragrant with a Moroccan blend of bright mint and earthy green tea. One inhale and I wasn’t in my kitchen anymore. I was in a sun-warmed courtyard in Marrakech, tile mosaics glittering, the air fragrant with mint, citrus, spices, and that timeless hum of a city that has lived a thousand lives. All this and I hadn't even made the tea yet, I was still just sniffing the bag!

This tea has allure — the kind that makes you pause and inhale again just to be sure you didn’t imagine it. It wound its away around me, whispering to me that I should redecorate my home in blues, purples, golds and green jewel tones, with luxurious carpets, while wearing silks... I found myself looking at my dishes, wondering if I could break them into small pieces to make into some type of mosaic art.  Dear Reader, I had entered into the experience fully and ...

Today’s tea journey took a swift turn and led me straight into uncharted waters—quite literally.

My tea of the day was simply labeled “Rooibos.” There was no description. No poetic promises of flavor or origin. No charming little backstory about ancient traditions or hand-picked leaves from a far-off hillside.

Just… rooibos.

And I realized, I had never actually tried rooibos before. I had never even heard of rooibos before and had no idea what type of plant it was. 

So Dear Reader, there I was in my kitchen, holding this mysterious tea bag like an unopened treasure map, thinking: “Well then. Today we leap.”

After brewing the tea, I timidly held the cup up to take a sniff, before stepping boldly into what I now call my tea-based adventuring phase of life — or, for short, TBA, which makes it sound very official.

On my new exploratory journey, as a tea-totaling sommelier in training, (TTST) in the school of (TBA), the first thing I noticed was that from the moment it began steep...