Writing a useful note

Most tasting notes are unusable six months later, and the reason is almost always the same: they record a verdict instead of the conditions. A note that says what you did is worth more than a note that says how much you liked it.

What it is

A record you will read again. That is the whole test. A note that says lovely, floral, would buy again tells future you nothing about how to reproduce it. A note that says four grams, ninety degrees, twenty seconds, distinctly floral on the second infusion and drying by the fifth lets you brew that cup again or work out why you could not.

How to do it

Record the conditions before the impressions, because you will forget the conditions and you will not forget whether you enjoyed it. Leaf weight, water temperature, vessel and steep time. Then rate the axes, and only rate the ones you actually noticed: a considered rating on five axes beats thirteen guesses. Add one sentence in your own words. If a session changed across infusions, say which infusion you are describing, since a tea that was floral at the start and drying by the end is one tea, not two.

What to look for

Whether your notes disagree with each other. The same tea logged twice with different scores is either a brewing difference, which the conditions will show, or a palate difference, which is worth knowing about. Both are more interesting than a shelf of consistent five-star notes.

What people get wrong

Rating an axis you did not separate. Bitterness and astringency logged as one blurred impression put noise into every chart built on them afterwards, and the average of a guess is still a guess. Leave an axis blank rather than filling it in for completeness. The other mistake is writing the note the next day. Aroma memory is short, and a reconstruction feels exactly as vivid as a memory while being mostly invention.

teabert, the tealytics teapot, keeper of the kettle
Leave an axis empty if you did not notice it. A blank is honest data; a guess quietly poisons your averages.