Licorice Tea: The Virgin Green Fairy

This week I’m catching up with the tea side of this category. It’s been kind of a throwaway aspect of the feature and I’m considering making it a separate thing, but we’ll see how it goes. And yes, I have posted this before. I’m plotting and scheming a less filler-type post for next week, honest. (I picked up David Lehman’s The Best American Erotic Poems. How can one NOT find blog fodder in there?) 

It’s official.  Move over mint: my new favorite hot tea is licorice.  It’s gotta be the best kept secret of the tea world, since every time I offer it, people wrinkle their noses and mutter, “Oh, licorice…  Hmph.”

You have no idea what you’re missing.

A moment after gulping down licorice tea, the sweetness explodes across your mouth, starting at the back and rushing out to the sides of your tongue like a standing ovation.  Glycyrrhizin – the compound in licorice responsible for the sweet taste – is thirty to fifty times more effective than table sugar.  This tea requires absolutely no additives; it’s ready to go.

Peppermint teas had always been my favorite, but I could never sweeten them to my liking.  Apparently, licorice was the answer.

It’s a perfect marriage.  Mint delivers a strong herbal foretaste and middle flavor, leaving a wispy tingle in its wake.  Licorice surges after that and the two flavors waltz beautifully around the mouth and top of the throat.  No matter what other herbs or spices are brewed with it, a licorice finish is always pure magic.

You may be concerned about that nose-punching ether taste you get in candies derived from these and other anethole-bearing plants, but let me assure you that in tea form, the only thing licorice brings with it is sweetness.  There is a slight hint of that infamous flavor, but it’s faint.

My latest venture into licorice tea was with Yogi’s Egyptian Licorice.

In this brew, cinnamon, ginger root, cardamom, black pepper, and clove buds dominate the blend, with some orange peel thrown in for a clean effect, I guess.  In the foretaste, cinnamon, cardamom, and ginger float on top.  The middle flavors dig deeper into the pepper and clove, giving the tea an earthiness which make the licorice finish even more rewarding.   All traces of spicy dirt are forgiven tenfold once the licorice blooms.

I hope I’ve interested you in giving this little root some further consideration.  Should it cross your path again, forget about past traumas with gelatinous black-green candies, icky cough syrup, or your inability to see what’s so great about absinthe.*  Hands down, licorice is best experienced in tea form, and when the virgin ghost of this little green fairy asks you to dance – trust me – you’ll want to say yes.

*Absinthe and black jellybeans tend to feature anise, which tastes almost exactly like licorice because both have a phenylpropene called anethole.  However, it’s only thirteen times the sweetness of sugar.
Also of Interest: Licorice Root May Keep Mental Skills Sharp; Licorice Root and Testosterone

2 thoughts on “Licorice Tea: The Virgin Green Fairy

    1. You’re right. Excess amounts can cause hypertension and some people have had to go to the ER for overconsumption. I’m sorry I missed that – thanks for the catch!

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