Tangie n’ Cream by No Mids
Welcome back to toasted n’ posted for a continued No Mids parade thanks to the amazing folks at Fweedom. Make sure to swing by Fweedom anytime you’re in the Northern Seattle area and in need of high quality service and selection. Moving on, we have managed to snag away an eighth of the ever popular Tangie n’ Cream. The only certainty being that it was bred by Exotic Genetix, we must assume that this is a cross of Tangie with his signature Cookies n’ Cream. We can likely expect a sativa dominance and testing data displays that this production carries a cannabinoid total of 25.8%. Crops rule everything around me, let’s get started.
I plunge towards Tangie n’ Cream to be repelled by the strong willed lash of rubbery peach tang. A puckering sweetness barrels through my nostrils, whooshing through my palate leaving everything doused in apricot-esque pulp. The tight performance of the citrus is delivered like a jolt from a nitrous mask at the Dentist. A benign song of fruit and uplifting zest, a hazy lacquer that imbues the profile with a seething tickle to till the refreshing essence.
A whirlwind introduction now billows forth a chilled grainy charm. Storebrand Fruit Loops with damp forest undertones. What can only be described as a mulchy smooth; the hillocked river sweats a melting creamy funk. A sour scream skunk, if you will. The molting shell crumbles away to uncover buried caches of subtlety. Sour, frothy, fresh, and fruity; the classic Tangie signature is refracted in a delectable new light. The traditional traits are pushes through the lens to spill out into a disembodied foamy tide of citrus and molten cheesy foul. As the waters wash to level, the low tide air of sour cream and peach fuzz hangs palpably in the air.
I split the flower through its core; a cataclysmic eruption of Lemon Heads, orange Tic-Tacs, and the withdrawn gooey tang of cheese. A thick slab of gritty goat cheese offers itself over a piping hot stove of hazy citrus. The signature of Tangie is curbed by the percolating and diffusing funk. Curdled dairy sour whips up a mountain of skunky-sweet froth. A masterful balance achieved between off-putting and utterly enchanting.
Orange juice siphoned through a pez dispenser; the familiar fruit is augmented as it is pushed through pinching canals of popping sweet. Waves of tacky cherry and berry unravel a tapestry of artificial ‘Fruit Roll-up’ flavors. Shortly hereafter, the whipped creamy chorus solidifies to emulate a buttery vanilla pound cake. A softened slab of unassigned decadence, eagerly awaiting direction from the free falling chunks of tropical fruit. A ramshackle production of strawberry shortcake bearing a earthy cheese echo. Tropical winds still kissing the absorbent bed of spongy sweet.
Tangie n’ Cream curls into gentle tufts of robust orange color. Much like tangerines themselves, these flowers pop with the room cutting vividity of its namesake. Stark bolts of contrast are lain upon a frozen bed of drained verdancy. A seamless medley of pear, cucumber, and mint; the frozen nodes becomes paler the longer they remain the subject of my gaze. Rupturing the sea of hypnotic white, the mature stigmas are stitched into clumpy frilled strands. I feel as if I’d come across a spilled bag of Cheetos scattered during a blizzard.
Frosty filaments continue to illuminate the fiery spirit of the cutting tangerine hairs. Trichomes pack like embankments of snow, plowed to the perimeter of every petal. Powdered mounds of milky resin perhaps stacking to bridge the distance between the petals and the thrashing tails of orange. While imbued with an aura of delicacy, a brief squeeze confirms the determined positioning of these feathery tufts of sunlight. While offering much relief in the form of a firm pillowy squish, the colas are flush and packed with matter.
Leaf to flame, my tastebuds are baked in a shell of tangy crisp. Layered in peach skins and banana leaf, a soft echo bleeds into the charring foliage. A peppery kick dusts out over the succulent sweetness. Pound cake dressed with layers of tangerine, honey, and cinnamon. The sugary runoff forms a basin cradled by tea leaf and sandalwood. Tangie n’ Cream delivers itself similarly to a Blue Dream if you exchanged the Blueberry parent with Tangie. A smooth and creamy spin on a familiar fruit endorsed by a bold cannon blast of cracking woody heat.
Continuing to delve through layers in the spirit of discovery, a hearth of sizzling haze awakens. Only a trickle at first, but a trickle enough to stir and agitate the thought-to-be settled woodland batter. A light drizzle drummed up to a storm of fermented nuance, the guzzy cheese catalyst claps with thunderous boons of creamy sour. Citrus precipitates through the raw filter to reenters the atmosphere as a sudsy champagne bite. The storm quells revealing an upheaved landscape of peppered skunk and the deceivingly inconsistent crunch of cool mint.
Whipping between my ears is the foundation of a bubbling high. An invisible bulk trudges through my head similar to the ratcheting cloudiness of congestion just before releasing into a storm of euphoria and eradicated tension. A harp with freshly severed taut strings, now free to live forever free of being tugged by existential forces. While inspiration still strikes my heart, I feel completely separate from the opinions and judgments of others. Of anything I create now, I will be the sole beneficiary. There is a fine line between selfishness and self-respect and this strain carries an empathy that helps you recognize your journey as the treasure it is.
My spirit soars high, but my eyelids fall remarkably low. Hanging like the leathery ears of an elephant, I attempt to brush off the omen of impending incapacitation. Having sprung a leak in the borrowed cushion of motivation, I devote myself to the liberating creativity of Tangie n’ Cream for as long as I am able. The usefulness of my newfound inspiration is short lived as it quickly shifts to a childlike sense of wonder; a blissful characteristic that is unfortunately tethered to a complete lack of focus.
While sudsy and charismatic, I am utterly useless at tasks requiring even the mildest sense of comprehension. I can offer a smile and a shoulder, but no operable advice. That being said, such unsculpted warmth and self-appreciation locked away within a flower could have a lot of value to folks who struggle with depression or low esteem. I believe that Tangie n’ Cream allows you to peel away some of the harsher shades of life. I’ve found this strain to average itself to be affable, easy-going, and a welcome relief from self-criticism.
As someone who normally hates Tangie, boy, I really liked this Tangie. Far closer to a Mimosa, a ‘citrus’ Skunk, a Clementine, or a relaxed phenotype of Tropicanna Cookies; folks who find themselves tired of Tangie can enjoy it in a refreshed light. The stabbing Windex ‘pop’ of Haze is well mitigated by the earthy solidarity of this strain. As always, thanks for reading…and remember: Mid Grade is bad for your health.
Tangie n’ Cream score: 92/100
Aroma – 19
Physical – 19
Flavor – 19
Consistency – 18
Sensation – 17