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narcasseOn my way through Heathrow last week, having discovered a disheartening lack of Sobranie Black Russians for sale and having had to ask for directions to the caviar bar that I’d literally just walked past, a Harrods store caught my eye once I’d found said bar and fortified myself with breakfast and a Bloody Mary.
I’ve never tried any of Harrods’ teas before because when it comes to London department stores I’m perfectly happy with Fortnum’s. I benchmark standard teas against the Fortnum’s version and usually find the others lacking. I like my tea strong and full of flavour and things like Fortnum’s Rose Pouchong, Royal Blend and Tercentenary Blend meet those requirements perfectly aptly. That said, with a Harrods store appearing at the corner of my eye and no great urge to sit on a stool for vast swathes of time I decided to attempt some tea evaluation.
I picked up the Georgian Restaurant Blend as a specific signature blend and the Rose because there wasn’t any Rose Pouching to be found. And I got a little giggle out of the chap behind the counter when I told him that no, I didn’t need any biscuits to go with my tea because I was making my purchases with an eye to comparing said teas against Fortnum’s.
Sadly the Georgian Restaurant Blend, which is a blend of Darjeeling, Assam and Sri Lankan tea most certainly wasn’t to my taste. Initially I put the faint taste down to under-brewing even though the instructions on the tin advise a range from three to five minutes, and quite possibly the fact that I might still be jet lagged. But even from the outset this blend didn’t impress me. I opened the tin to find the tea in a sealed packet inside the caddy which annoyed me and suggested that Harrods doesn’t have faith in their own packing procedures, which seemed surprising since I had to practically shove my nose into the leaves to pick up any scent. That sort of issue set the bar at any rate and having tested the tea again twice it’s still a thin, fairly tasteless concoction that I could readily do without. If Fortnum’s can make Assam and Yunnan work letting the flavours come through then there’s really no excuse for something as thin as this nonsense.
The Rose tea at least was contained only by the tin, the lid of which I had to pry off with the tip of a teaspoon. It’s a combination of Ceylon and China black tea with rose petals which, according to the blurb on the tin begs to be poured into white china cups, did at least it smell promising. I caught a whiff of sweet rose and the faintest hint of spice and for a moment thought that I might have found a blend to surpass its Fortnum’s counterpart: Of course I was to be disappointed. While the Rose tea does contain at least a sliver of rose flavouring it sinks beneath the black tea to the point where I’m pretty sure I could just add rosewater to a regular cup of black tea and produce the same effect. It’s not bad but even Whittard produce a more fuller flavoured Rose Petal tea at the end of the day.
Thus my brief foray into Harrods teas ends in disappointment to the point where the next time I’m at Heathrow I might just buy those Fortnum’s teacups I’ve been eyeing instead.
I’ve never tried any of Harrods’ teas before because when it comes to London department stores I’m perfectly happy with Fortnum’s. I benchmark standard teas against the Fortnum’s version and usually find the others lacking. I like my tea strong and full of flavour and things like Fortnum’s Rose Pouchong, Royal Blend and Tercentenary Blend meet those requirements perfectly aptly. That said, with a Harrods store appearing at the corner of my eye and no great urge to sit on a stool for vast swathes of time I decided to attempt some tea evaluation.
I picked up the Georgian Restaurant Blend as a specific signature blend and the Rose because there wasn’t any Rose Pouching to be found. And I got a little giggle out of the chap behind the counter when I told him that no, I didn’t need any biscuits to go with my tea because I was making my purchases with an eye to comparing said teas against Fortnum’s.
Sadly the Georgian Restaurant Blend, which is a blend of Darjeeling, Assam and Sri Lankan tea most certainly wasn’t to my taste. Initially I put the faint taste down to under-brewing even though the instructions on the tin advise a range from three to five minutes, and quite possibly the fact that I might still be jet lagged. But even from the outset this blend didn’t impress me. I opened the tin to find the tea in a sealed packet inside the caddy which annoyed me and suggested that Harrods doesn’t have faith in their own packing procedures, which seemed surprising since I had to practically shove my nose into the leaves to pick up any scent. That sort of issue set the bar at any rate and having tested the tea again twice it’s still a thin, fairly tasteless concoction that I could readily do without. If Fortnum’s can make Assam and Yunnan work letting the flavours come through then there’s really no excuse for something as thin as this nonsense.
The Rose tea at least was contained only by the tin, the lid of which I had to pry off with the tip of a teaspoon. It’s a combination of Ceylon and China black tea with rose petals which, according to the blurb on the tin begs to be poured into white china cups, did at least it smell promising. I caught a whiff of sweet rose and the faintest hint of spice and for a moment thought that I might have found a blend to surpass its Fortnum’s counterpart: Of course I was to be disappointed. While the Rose tea does contain at least a sliver of rose flavouring it sinks beneath the black tea to the point where I’m pretty sure I could just add rosewater to a regular cup of black tea and produce the same effect. It’s not bad but even Whittard produce a more fuller flavoured Rose Petal tea at the end of the day.
Thus my brief foray into Harrods teas ends in disappointment to the point where the next time I’m at Heathrow I might just buy those Fortnum’s teacups I’ve been eyeing instead.
