Some things are first experienced when lost – that’s the only way to experience them fully. Their loss is not the usual loss one experiences. It’s by design, but a loss, nevertheless. You can see them, feel them, maybe even touch, taste and be well acquainted but when you try to make up your mind about them, it doesn’t really feel defined. Then you just say “It is what it is!” and call it a day. Well, nothing good ever comes after “It is what it is!”. That’s until you experience them with their loss – adding a very refreshing and counterintuitive novelty to experiencing them – completing your experience of them.
If you try to photograph a Cobweb – plenty fresh in the background of autumn, hoping to capture it the way you see it – thin…. gossamer…. intricate…. transparent…. connected – you’ll get exactly that; except it’ll look like it’s been around since the ice ages, straight out of a Stephen King novel! That’s when you realize you can’t really capture its inheritance of ‘not meant to survive’. That’s when you experience the cobweb, in the loss of its impermanence.
That’s how we experienced the Gossamer – with a ‘loss’ of its impermanence in the abundance and familiarity of its flavors; in trying the innumerable ways to describe it. A tangible way of getting to know it’s ‘loss of impermanence’ would be to experience the notes of Autumn Caprice – Plucked from the same bushes last autumn . The Gossamer is not really delicate or fragile, just feels impermanent – Not hidden, but always under a transparent veil, a sheen that is deeply missing when you try to capture it or make up your mind about its flavors. As if something about it is not meant to survive but it still exists. There’s a good chance that our palates are not quite as discerning, or the practicality of ‘It is what it is’ is ever dominant but there’s something ‘Gossamer’ in its flavors that expresses its loss by shifting, every time we brew it. You’ll experience it too. I guess experiencing the same loss again, changes how you experience it too. It’s a really counterintuitive, refreshing and happy perspective.
In lieu of going with ‘It is what it is’ and calling it a day, we’ll narrate our ‘found’ perspectives instead. We’ll begin with the obvious and definite first. It’s a non-fermented Spring Green tea. The dry leaves are very aromatic, with the smell of unripe Mangoes, Muskmelons and Rose. Plucked from the B157 cultivar, the leaves are large comprising of single as well as two leaves and a bud. The steeped leaves smell of lime and mangoes. (We found vivid flowery and grassy aromas in another steep, as well). It was difficult to make up our mind!
Speaking of the ease of expression, the first few times we brewed gossamer we found it to be soupy, thick – tasted of salted butter, unmistakable aroma of sweet corn and spinach with an underlying floral rhythm. The flavor was very-very savory. As the tea cooled down it became fruity with honey notes. Perfect! Easy, right? Well, not quite.
The next time we brewed we were greeted immediately with a unripe mango aroma with the taste of mangoes laced with honey and suggestions of lemon. There’s definitely mango there!. The taste was also deep green like spinach and grassy. All the aromas and flavors of the previous brew were either gone or only remained faintly! (That’s when the phrase ‘It is what it is’ and how nothing good comes after it, came to us and we wrestled with it for about ten days!)
Subsequent brews lead us to either both, one at a time, or some ratio thereof and, while we’re at it, added a savory aftertaste to the experience.
You see, the loss of the first brew flavors did in fact lead to a new novelty of flavors, but that reminder translated its presence into the new, somehow adding to it, if not completing it. There’s also this inherently refreshingly happy ‘Gossamer loss’ in each of the notes too. Instinct says, such profound reminders in tea don’t really see much light of day, but profound or not, here it is seeing the light of day, rightfully so.
“We hope you experience it with all its impermanence”.
Reviews
There are no reviews yet.