My girlfriend recently gave me some tea. When we’re together, we habitually drink loose-leaf Earl Grey mixed with Darjeeling and a touch of green tea for kick.
However, when we’re apart, I tend to relapse to what she calls the“bog-standard” – the ubiquitous Twinings Earl Grey (named perhaps as much for its color as its ancestry). It seems she decided I needed proper tea for when she wasn’t around, so she prepared for me some of our regular blend, but mistakenly added Lapsang Souchong instead of the Darjeeling.
The result was fantastic. A tea that smells like the very best of campfires while steeping, and has a delicate, pleasing flavor.
It’s interesting that before this most happy accident, my knowledge of Lapsang Souchong was fundamentally non-existant. I had heard the name, but probably couldn’t have spelled it. I understand that a guy named John Pierpont Morgan, once upon a time among the richest people on the planet, preferred this smoky, oaky brew to more readily available teas in a time when Lapsang Souchong was virtually impossible to get outside of China.
I don’t know much about tea, nor J.P. Morgan, but I do know that our blend is the finest tea I’ve ever had. So fine, I think it needs a name of its own.