For those who haven’t sampled this product, it’s not just your run-of-the-mill Orange Pekoe. Imagine your run-of-the-mill Orange Pekoe misted with uremic acid and allowed to sit in the open air for about six months. It’s putrid.
It was advertised for years with a horrible commercial which depicted a group of nitwits do insulting caracatures of posh english folk, sipping the stuff, complete with elegant tea service and a nose-in-the-air butler, naturally. After they’ve all tried it, one particular muttonchop utters their tagline “Only in Canada, you say? Pity…” One suspects there was a judicious edit before “…those poor frozen sods.”
The “Classic” blend is particularly vile-- full of china-staining red dye, and so bitter and acidic that it’s not surprising that its popularity is mostly limited to life-long smokers.
Well, the end of an era, I suppose. Now, as soon as the doughheads wake up and realize that Tim Horton’s coffee tastes like dishwater, there may be hope for caffeinated refreshments in Canada, after all.
(Hooray! I’ve met my “mundane and pointless” quota for the entire week!)
I’ve never tried the Classic blend, since we only seem to have the premium blend over here. The polish scientist I work with really enjoys the stuff and keeps a box here at the office. It’s not my favourite drink, but I’ll drink it if nothing else is close at hand.
The attraction, as far as I can tell, is not the taste, but rather watching other people respond to it. When I offer it to people they often react as if I am offering them a form of nerve toxin – the colour drains from their skin as their face twists into an expression of horror as they utter in disbelief, ‘You drink that?’.
I suppose now I’ll never have a chance to sample the classic blend. Oh well.
(I’m honoured, by the way, that someone who’s ordinarily so laconic would post in my pitiful thread. Maybe I could get a few pointers from ya on that whole “quality vs quantity” conundrum.)
