It was Agnès, the house director, who one day suggested this idea: "What if we created a herbal tea like an Impressionist painting?" An infusion that wouldn't tell a single story, but a thousand summer impressions, laid down in small touches. She didn't want a simply good herbal tea, she wanted an emotion, a light, a sensation.
So, like a painter before a canvas, she began to compose. First, a touch of verbena, green and light, to evoke late afternoons in the garden, when the shadows gently descend on the foliage. Then the peach yellow, juicy, sweet, like the fruit we bite into in the August heat.
She added the tangy pink of rhubarb, playful and lively, to make the whole thing vibrate like a burst of laughter. Then the deep reds of hibiscus and rosehip, for their thirst-quenching freshness, like a sip of syrup after a run in the grass.
The apple, sweet and familiar, brought its calm, its roundness. And to finish, Agnès chose orange blossom, like a last pale ray of light passing through the curtains of a summer bedroom. She wasn't looking for perfect balance, but for a faithful emotion: that of a summer we would like to remember. Each ingredient is a color, each sip a brushstroke. Herbal tea can't be told: it's felt, like an impressionist canvas capturing the ephemeral.
With Tisane des Beaux Jours, Agnès painted a landscape because tea is an art.