road test: herbal teas
Deidre Fidge and Emily Naismith sip their way through a batch of nice herbal cuppas in our newest feel-good issue.
Pukka Relax The absolute grip hold this ‘relax’ tea has on my family – a family who have not relaxed for a single day of their lives – is uncanny. I think it was my mum who initially started buying it, which is hilarious to me because she is always in turbo mode. She regularly makes two loaves of bread and a slew of biscuits before dawn breaks, waits outside department stores daring them to open as the clock strikes 9 am (literally holding back tears of excitement if it’s a big sale) and cannot maintain any form of silence for more than 10 seconds (her equally lovely other daughter and I have timed her). I struggle to believe that this bag of dried chamomile flowers and various roots (liquorice, marshmallow and ginger roots) could help her switch off. While it may not lower my family’s cortisol levels, at least we’re trying. I mean it’s that, or it just tastes really bloody nice. EN
Higher Living Ginger Kick Tea When I was a child I ate a meal that contained enormous chunks of ginger. I mistakenly ate two of these wedges at once and experienced a temporary state known as ‘ginger fever’, an experience not unlike taking mild hallucinogens. Since then I’ve been wary of this plant, so approached this tea with a cautious hesitancy one would employ when encountering a wild bear. This tea isn’t called Ginger Cuddle, Ginger Soft Touch, or Ginger Poke, and the packaging prepares you to “feel the heat”. As it turns out, the real kicker (sorry) was my surprise at how much I enjoyed it – it wasn’t much of a kick at all and more of a soothing treat. Have I been wrong about ginger this whole time? Have I been missing out on delicious meals and beverages because of old biases? At least I have the perfect partner for this existential crisis… a nice cup of tea. DF
Madame Flavour Lemongrass Lime & Ginger Tisane Having not had a single coherent thought enter my brain since my intelligence peaked in year 11, I was looking forward to the “instant clarity” this tea promised. As if to test my newfound mental prowess, there was an assessment within the box: a small piece of floral wrapping paper and some instructions on how to fashion it into an origami dove. Madame, if I can call you that, I’m simply two micrometres away from a mental breakdown at any second of the day! If I’m reaching for a cup of herbal tea, you better believe I don’t have the mental fortitude to follow 12 steps of poorly written instructions to create a ‘dove’ that looks like it was made from early 2000s tampon boxes. But for the purposes of this road test, I did. My ‘dove’ looks more ‘lost penguin’ so while your tea is already deliciously zesty, I may need to double-bag it to get the promised results. EN
Twinings Strawberry, Raspberry & Loganberry Tea Whenever health professionals emphasise the importance of sleep hygiene, I nod earnestly before retreating to bed to stare at a screen five centimetres from my face for two hours. Why can’t I get any sleep? I think in frustration while clicking ‘I’m still watching’ on another episode of Below Deck and eating snacks in bed like an enlarged rat. The most infuriating thing about sleep hygiene is that it works. The leftover adolescent part of my brain hates being told what to do, but following a night-time routine does improve sleep and a warm cuppa before bed helps kickstart that process. If you’re after a tea that doesn’t really taste like tea, this Twinings blend is your new best friend. It doesn’t taste artificial or sickly sweet, just fruity. It’s totally caffeine-free, so even if you end up in bed watching various devices, you can pat yourself on the back for that. DF
T2 Wakey Wakey I thought T2 was all gold-flecked ornamental teapots and dried rose petals but this tea has me feeling like I’m down at the construction site installing scaffolding pre-dawn after pulling a raging all-nighter with the boys from the footy club. It includes yerba mate, which is some kind of energy boosting South American leaf but equally seems like something a second-year apprentice would yell to the first-years over the thrum of power tools (yeah she’ll be yerba, mate!) when the project timelines are getting crunched. Upon first whiff, this cuppa awakens the distinct olfactory pathways of ‘rave juice’ – a concoction I once regularly mainlined, composed of Red Bull and the nastiest no-name vodka known to man served in a ziplock bag with a straw and glowstick inside. I blame the guarana. If you like your green tea with full body tatts blasting metalcore, these are the bags for you. Perfect to brew with the lads on smoko. BYO floral teapot. EN
Nerada Organic Peppermint Tea Have you noticed some people get extremely weird about mint-flavoured foods? Going to the movies can be an ordeal if you choose a mint choc top. People start screaming ewww and it’s like eating toothpaste and why don’t you just marry a mint leaf if you love it so much* (*potential hyperbole in use). I just love a mint treat, whether it’s in ice-cream, fudge or cuppa form, haters be damned! I was always going to enjoy this one and guess what – I really did. In my eyes, a peppermint tea is a perfect afternoon beverage because it’s caffeine-free but zesty enough to give you a little boost of energy. They say peppermint tea is good for digestion and another bonus is you won’t have any coffee breath, only the aroma of delicious mint. Those naysayers don’t know what they’re missing out on. DF
Queen Victoria Vanilla Chai Vanilla is the second-most expensive spice in the world (behind only saffron) – which is totally wild considering this tea retails for just over a buck. You’re definitely whacked with the scent of vanilla upon opening the box; it smells like those fancy vanilla buttercream cupcakes you inhaled at your nephew’s third birthday party while dissociating at the snack table as the Thomas the Tank Engine album played for the 16th time that day. I put it down to the “real vanilla flavouring” used – no imitation shit here. Which, of course, is a total waste of money because no one – no one – can taste the difference between actual vanilla beans and the cheap fake stuff. Chai-wise, this tea is phoning it in. It tastes like the sheets an actual cup of chai slept in about a month ago – you can kind of make out a hint of spice but it’s certainly no warming, earthy hug. Needs more cardamom and ginger. EN
Celestial Sleepytime Herbal Tea It’s a fundamental human experience to unconsciously harbour fantasies of living as a children’s storybook animal. For example, being a little mouse who lives in a toadstool house and is friends with a frog. Or perhaps existing as a ladybug who resides in the base of a tree with teeny-tiny windows. Think of that lifestyle and tell me you’re not jealous. The Celestial Sleepytime tea is a staple of many households because it tastes soothing and helps relax you before bed, but have you seen the packaging? Oh, how nice it would be to be a cosy gentle bear living in a cottage, wearing a nightcap and drifting off to slumberland. Tea or not, looking at this image for long enough will send you into a meditative state. Or possibly make you jealous and cross, in which case, may I suggest curling up under a blanket and making a cup of tea. DF
This lovely tea road test was featured in frankie feel-good volume four. To get your mitts on a copy, swing past the frankie shop, subscribe or visit one of our lovely stockists.
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