Showing posts with label Le Palais des Thés. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Le Palais des Thés. Show all posts

Thursday, 11 October 2012

tea with lemon and catching up with a good friend

First Annual International Tea Trade Convention summer 2011

Xavier and I haven't known one another for such a long time, but we're fast friends. Not sure where that term comes from, but I don't know of any faster friends.

We met last year in the summer when he came to Munich for the First Annual Tea Trade Convention, and I saw him at New Year's when he and Sabine came to Nice at the same time my wife and I were there.

I've documented all of this here on my teablog, but I thought I'd give you a quick synopsis of our backstory. Xavier and I have spent much of our time together either drinking or talking about tea. He's one of the many tea people I've found as a result of teablogging, and he quite possibly might be the most important.

Why?

He's just some French dude, right? Not exactly. He's one of the best teabloggers I know, because he does a niche thing that no-one does quite the way he does.

Xavier writes about tea and business. It's intriguing what he writes about. Every single time I read one of his posts, I learn something I'd never even considered before. Every. Single. Time.

If you don't know TeaConomics, you should.

What'd we drink when we met yesterday? Here:


I'll write about the tea another time, but I can tell you that it's going to be available soon. If you like the things that they do over at the Le Palais des Thés, you're going to love what I have to tell you soon. It's an entirely new line of tea blend. Four blends this year and then two more next year and two more the next. 

That means that by 2014, you can get one of eight exceptional tea blends from Le Palais des Thés. I'll review the four that're coming out this year as soon as they're available. 

Xavier and I had le Citron yesterday, and we both liked it quite a lot. More on that soon.



Wednesday, 3 October 2012

mixing green and black tea


I'm not a tea blender, so for me that entire art is a kind of alchemy. The people who do it well have my respect and I often wonder if it's something I'll eventually get into.

For the longest time, I've been particularly fascinated with the blending of green and black tea. Perhaps because I brew the two sorts of tea at different temperatures and perhaps just because they have such distinct tastes, but the vegetal sometimes grassy taste of a green seems to be in conflict with the malty character of a good Assam. Or the smoky taste of a Yunnan.

That being said, when I'm in a tea shop and I see a blend of green and black tea, I almost always get it. With varying results to be fair. Often the green tea might as well not even be in the blend. The black tea overpowers whatever character the green had. Watered down black tea isn't my idea of a good time, so I'm often less than pleased at my recent purchase.

Why is it so difficult to blend green and black tea?

If it is so daunting, why do people continue to do it?

My favourite green/black tea blends?

Buen Dia from La Tetería and Michel Strogoff from Le Palais des Thés. How about you?







Saturday, 7 January 2012

a bit of Nice tea shopping

So a year ago, I wrote A few Nice places for tea and that piece dealt with places to drink tea in Nice, France. Try as I might've this time around, I don't have much to add in that regard. And the few new places I do have to recommend each deserve their own individual blogposts. 


But let's say you do roll into Nice (or fly in, whichever the case may be) and you realise you didn't pack enough loose-leaf tea at the beginning of your trip. Are you really going to be forced to go to Galeries Lafayette and buy a box of tea leaves from a major French tea brand? Well, you certainly can do that. Am not entirely sure how long the tea's been sitting on the shelves, but it'll certainly do in a pinch.


a wall of Mariage Frères 

Kusmi Tea and Dammann Frères
They have Mariage Frères, which is quite good. Then there's Dammann Frères, which I don't know well, but I see there boxes all over. Finally, there's also Kusmi Tea


Xavier's done some research on Kusmi, and here's his post on a radio interview that he transcribed and translated (An interview with Kusmi).Their tea (that I've seen) is flavoured and a tad pricey , so I've not taken the plunge and tried them. Nevertheless, I've heard good things about this company, and I'm sure one day I'll give it a go (Xavier assured me that they have unflavoured tea. I've not actually seen it).




The next place you might try is Bjeteman & Barton (11, rue Maréchal Joffre 06000 Nice +33 1 (0)4 93 92 70 22), which is apparently a high-end Parisian tea brand. Their shop in Nice is centrally-located and they have quite a good selection of both loose-leaf and bagged tea, as well as plenty of attractive tea gear. It's not an Asian specialty shop, but for nice Wester-style teapots, cups and saucers, this is definitely an excellent destination. Again, this is an upscale establishment. I certainly didn't say you'd be able to leave without lessening the weight of your wallet.


Here's a photo of their front window:


Bjeteman & Barton




The place I was most impressed with last year and even more so now that I've gotten my hands on a copy of the book The Tea Drinker's Handbook, which was written by Francois-Xavier Delmas the founder of Le Palais des Thés (3, rue de la Liberté 06000 Nice +33 4 93 81 56 16). Beautiful book (also written by Mathias Minet and Christine Barbasteand beautiful shop. 
This place knows what they're doing. I'd say this was the French answer to Teavana, but it's likely the other way around. I suppose that the American chain could've modelled itself on this French one rather than vice versa. 






Here's a photo of their storefront:

Le Palais des Thés
tea ware at Le Thé
Around the corner and several hundred metres away in rue Pastorelli is yet another tea shop. This one's called Le Thé (39 Rue Pastorelli 06300 Nice +33 04 93 80 45 79), which is clearly more Eastern in appearance. They have an impressive selection of tea from around the world, but the tea ware (exquisite clay teacups and teapots) is clearly of the Asian variety.


Xavier noticed something before I did: many of the distinctive flavoured tea from Le Palais des Thés were identical here at Le Thé. To be clear, it's most definitely not a franchise. Le Thé is selling tea under their own name, but the exact same names indicate the same source for their more auspicious blends.

To be candid, the few teas that we compared at both locations were a tad more economically priced at Le Thé, but it definitely wasn't substantial. Not sure it's worth going out of your way for the minuscule difference, but it is worth noting.

you can find the shop easily under the bright green sign
And now I have a bit of a cliffhanger for you gentle readers. The whole time I've been here, I've walked by one last  teashop, but always at the wrong hour. The shop is open often enough. It's just that I was there too early or too late. Even today on my last day, I arrived right in the middle of their midday break. Here's the thing, though. I was so impressed with La Route du The that I've resolved to write an individual blogpost for this shop. It was that extraordinary. 


So, even though I've given you a rather thorough review of some of the teashops in Nice, you'll have to wait just a bit longer for my review of the one I enjoyed the most. You can barely contain your anticipation, can you? I know you all pretty well. 

Thursday, 6 October 2011

hear the call of Lörelei

Quite a lot has been written lately about pure tea.  Camellia Sinensis.  And that's all.

I've asked before why it seems like French tea shops have so many flavoured teas, and on a number of occasions in the last several weeks I've heard someone say that Germany is a source for a lot of the flavours that're used in these teas.  I don't have any data to support that, but in this case I'd rather just bring up the topic.

Many shops offer a great variety of both flavoured and pure tea.  If I were a shop owner and I knew that my customers liked Caramel Rooibus, I'd stock it and sell it happily.  The same goes for any of the other flavoured teas that're available.

But me?  I steer clear of the stuff.  I drank Earl Grey years ago, but have weaned myself of that Bergamot-soaked concoction.  Actually, I just slowly got tired of the taste.  Became more interested in tasting the leaf and nothing but the leaf.

The funny thing is that I see a lot of flavoured tea being reviewed, sold, talked about...I'm still open to try the stuff.  Bergamot comes from oranges.  It's not as if it's an unnatural substance.  I've heard that there are noticeable gradations.  That someone attuned to it can tell if poor quality Bergamot oil was used.  I can believe that.

I don't want to have to drink enough Earl Grey again in order to learn that distinction.  There are plenty of tea drinkers/reviewers who actually like drinking it.  I'll leave that experience to them.

But I am still curious about curious about the flavoured tea I see here and there.  When Xavier came to visit this summer, he brought a curious package of a tea from Le Palais des Thés that I would've never bought for myself.  It's called Lörelei, and here's what they're website says about it:

Lörelei

'The warmth of cinnamon, the mild sweetness of vanilla and the subtlety of almonds.'  To some, including me, that'd normally be something to be avoided.  Pure tea for me, please.

But a funny thing happened when I tried it.  It wasn't so bad.  It's a nice change.  I've served it as a dessert tea, and it's been rather well received.

I still worry that any flavoured tea is using the flavour to cover up subpar tea.  That's a concern, right?  But this helps my resolve to stay open to these things I'd normally turn up my nose at.

Doesn't mean I'm going to go out of my way to drink more Earl Grey.  I've had more than my share of that.


Saturday, 6 August 2011

that wet earth smell



Am on a bit of a blogging tear right now, but it's hard not to be when there's so much going on around here. There was a nice mix of sightseeing and tea drinking today, but I wanted to quickly talk about a tea that Xavier brought along with him.

It's a green tea from China that he got as a sample from Le Palais des Thés, which is a tea seller we both like quite a bit. The tea's called Gu Zhang Mao Jian, and the package says that it has, 'the aroma of wet earth after a storm that is so popular in China.'

We spent an inordinate amount of time trying to detect that wet earth smell. But now that I have a bit more time to think about it, I wonder if the Chinese really have such a fondness for this scent of damp soil. If so, why?


But enough about that. Here's how the leaves looked before they got all earthy wet:

I thought it looked almost like a Darjeeling, but it tasted like anything but.




The first infusion was nice but alas, as you might've expected, no wet earth smell. Maybe it'd materialise upon further brewings (it didn't). There was a freshness to this Gu Zhang Mao Jian that I almost want to call grassy. Nothing like a Japanese Sencha, but very vegetal.

There was something that almost tasted of asparagus in there, and that sent us down the rather confusing yet enjoyable path of finding the French word for asparagus (it's asperge by the way). The asparagus-like taste only became stronger on the second infusion.

The smell of the leaves afterwards was so delicious. Almost wanted to go search for something about cooking with green tea leaves. Almost, but not quite.


Here's how the leaves looked after the thorough workout we gave them:

Unfortunately, you can't smell the asparagus in a photo. Use your imagination, ok?




There'll be plenty more about the weekend that all these tea people came to visit, but I wanted to include this tea review before things got under way in earnest. There will be a bit of earnestness, after all. You don't believe a word I'm saying, do you?

Saturday, 30 July 2011

tea choices for marauding teenagers or Zombie Apocalypse

So I was watching the opening scene of the 1966 British film Blow-Up this evening, and there were packs of wild (even insane) teenagers romping through the streets of London. I think it was supposed to signify the Swinging Sixties, but it served a different purpose for me.

It got me thinking.

About the Zombie Apocalypse, of course.

Whether it's marauding British teenagers in clothing styles that really can't be described as flattering or zombies in full-scale apocalypse mode, there's an obvious question that I haven't seen discussed by the more reputable teablogs. Well not yet at least.

What tea might you serve to these eerily similar groups of people? The object of serving them tea wouldn't be in any way to dissuade them from their brain eating goals. Simply put, a nice tea would at least slow them down. And potentially make the whole experience just a bit more civilised. If only a bit.

But which tea for this most delicate of situations? Be honest. It's a more difficult question than you first thought, isn't it?

My first choice was a decent first grade Keemun. Seems like this is the sort of tea many blends include to temper the boldness of a strong Assam. If it's good in that capacity, then why not here? But something about that choice just seems too easy. The zombies may or may not go for the Keemun, but I have serious doubts that the teenagers would have anything to do with such a tea. It's just a hunch.

What about a tea from Kenya? My friend Neil introduced me to Everyday Kenya from leaf tea. I wrote about it in I'll show you mine if you show me yours. That's interesting enough to please the teenagers and strong enough that the zombies might even be able to taste it. But still...I don't know. It's simply not the perfect choice.

Oh wait. I have it. Why'd it take me so long to come up with this one?

Another tea sometimes used in blends to tame an errant Assam is a good Nilgiri. The one I'm thinking of has all the attributes of the above-mentioned teas, but it's got an extra dose of zombie-halting flavour. It's one I found at Le Palais des Thés and, as you can see, I can recommend it for the most unlikely of occasions.

The name of this delicious Nilgiri is Thiashola 'Carrington', which really cannot be recommended more highly. As much as the teenagers will enjoy the actual taste of the tea, they'll get as much fun out of the name 'Thiashola' as I did when I first read it. My thoughts ran wild at the thought of a girl named Thia and her anatomy.

If nothing else, this tea's name can be employed in their sophomoric poems to rhyme with Pensacola or Indianola.

Only the most crucial of questions are answered on this teablog. I feel as if I'm providing an important service.





Saturday, 1 January 2011

not a tea town (at least so far)




Regarding tea, this trip to Nice hasn't been as dry and fruitless as the one to Athens, but it's not been nearly as good as I thought it would be. Paris spoiled me for tea salons, and I'd expected something similar here. It is still France after all.

There are plenty of establishments that advertise as Salon de the. The problem is that then you walk over and look at their menu, and realise that these places are tourist restaurants. I just cannot believe that the quality of their tea is worth the ridiculous prices they're charging.

There's a long and moderately interesting history of the English coming to the Côte d'Azur supposedly Queen Victoria being the most influential. With them they brought the tradition of tea drinking. I'm certainly not saying the French didn't or don't drink tea, but the British seem to have made it an integral part of their raison d'être.

So, just to be clear, I haven't given up on tea shops or tea salons here in this city. Am sure once the New Year's festivities have calmed down, I'll discover more. There is a place called the Scotch Teahouse right in the thick of it all, and I'm sure I'll write about a visit there.

The there's also Le Palais des Thés, which I saw on the first evening here. I found their teas in Athens, and was impressed with the attractive shop and the beautiful way they display their tea. Here's the entrance to the shop: