For years we’ve been drinking coffee like it was going out of fashion and now it’s really gone. OK that’s debatable, but tea is enjoying something of a renaissance and the market is awash with choice. Newby Teas fall into the specialist variety and are splendidly and unabashedly posh – the kind of tea, say, Auberon Waugh might have supped while penning some dry-witted critique. Breaking the red wax seal on the Rosehip & Hibiscus tisane was a little like opening a caddy-shaped epistle, and indeed Newby’s literature reads like one: ‘Like fine wines, Newby Teas have distinctive traits and impeccable standards.’
Of the three teas that I sampled my favourite was the black Ceylon. Ceylon is is drunk exclusively throughout the Middle East according to my father, who helpfully elaborates that adulterating tea with dairy is a definitive sign of peasantry, while pointedly eyeballing mother’s mug of (milky) PG Tips. Newby’s is a good product with characteristic citrus and very little bitterness when brewed for longer. More the Arabian stallion of teas than the chimp, it would also make a lovely iced drink in summer.
The Rosehip & Hibiscus is tart, deep-red and refreshing, packing a punch that some may find a little eye-popping, but that comes as a welcome wake-me-up for the tea masochist. I couldn’t detect the hibiscus flower, but I’ve never tasted a hibiscus flower so what do I know? Jasmine Monkey, so called because of the curling white tales of this green tea blend, gives a really rich hit of jasmine, a bit like falling face-first into a perfume counter, only more pleasant I expect.
Did I enjoy my Newby threesome? Yes I did, although I would have been interested to try one of their more unusual flavours which include saffron, chocolate, cardamom; pineapple and honey. Mine was a traditional selection and while I can genuinely say that Newby do a very good version of these teas with some rather snazzy packaging to boot, I’m still left wondering if they’re more Raj than original?