A Tea Addict's Journal

Curated Samples #1: Tasting suggestions

October 10, 2012 · 6 Comments

As the samples are (mostly) on their way, some have asked for suggestions or ideas for what to do with them. I always find giving instructions to be a bit hard, mostly because everyone has their own preferences and their own teaware, so it’s not easy to give instructions that makes sense. I suppose I should, however, say something about what I am thinking of when drinking these, and maybe these will be useful.

I think the first thing I should note is that there’s a reason there’s a double dose of the finished product, labeled 59 for 59 hours. Since that is what the roaster was trying to get to – the finished product – it is probably best to try that one first. That gives you an idea of what the end goal is – what the roaster is trying to achieve. You can also start out with the no roast (0) as well, as a comparison. I think it’s pretty clear, right away, that from 0 to 59 the distance is pretty huge.

Now, for the stuff in between: I think there are two ways to try them, and both should probably be done, circumstances allowing. One way is to set them up in a line with identical teaware and do it cupping style, which may or may not be practical if you don’t have the right stuff. However, a simple way to do it, without those cute little lidded cups, is just to use a bowl and a spoon, like in the picture here. Leave the leaves in the bowl, and just use the spoon to get a little of the liquor to taste, while smelling the back of the spoon. That does a pretty good job, especially if you want low maintenance cupping. Cleanup is a breeze.

The other is simply tasting them regularly, as if you’re drinking the tea normally. For these things, I’d generally recommend using a small pot and filling to pot anywhere from 1/4 to 1/3 full of dry leaves, depending on personal taste, etc. Precise parameters are not that important, as long as it’s done more or less consistently – that way you can sense the differences more clearly. Drink it, and see what you find.

One participant also suggested that, for the sake of making the discussion more uniform and mutually intelligible, maybe everyone should use Volvic as a basis for comparison, because Volvic is generally a pretty good water for this kind of tea, and it’s pretty easy to get anywhere. I’m throwing it out there as a suggestion – it will, indeed, standardize the parameters somewhat, so everyone’s talking about more of the same thing. Some water, for example, may make this tea sour, while others wouldn’t. Just throwing it out as an idea.

One way to compare more properly is to keep going back to the 59 hours version after trying each of the other one, to get a sense of the difference between the two. After all, this is an exercise in trying to learn something from the roasting process. Why, for example, did he need to roast an extra 30 hours, when the one with 30 hours roast is already tasting pretty roasty? In fact, if you look at the raw leaves or the liquor of the tea of the 30, 45, and 59, the differences are not that obvious at first glance. Even when you drink it, when you try only a sip or two, you may find them tasting very similar. The basic notes and structure is the same, the devil is in the details.

When I asked him why all the way to 59 hours, instead of just stopping at 30 or 45, he said simply it’s “not good tasting at all”. When pressed why they don’t taste good, the answer is “rough, bitter.. just not very good”. They are also “not fully done”. So I think asking the question of “why spend the extra 45/30/15 hours in the oven?” is probably a good starting point. After all, if he can cut down his work by half, I’m sure he would’ve done it by now. So, what did that extra time in the oven add or eliminate that makes it worthwhile?

Keep in mind that this tea is in a style that is most popular in Southeast Asia. They sell a lot of this overseas, and their brand is fairly recognizable in places like Malaysia, Thailand, and Singapore. The customers want a certain taste, and they provide it. The 59 hours roast represents that taste, and the ones that have less time are considered not yet ready.

The extra sample, labeled X, is just for reference. It’s the lowest grade roasted TGY they sell, and I thought adding that in will help show the range of possibilities of outcomes for roasting when the raw materials are different. X has undergone a similar level of roast, but was slightly less because, as he put it, “the leaves can only take so much – the quality is not there”. What’s missing in X compared to 59 should be obvious, I think.

Lastly – I did ask if they’ve played with roasting variables before by, for example, lowering temperature and taking longer. His answer is “yeah, we’ve tried, and when the temperature gets lower, the tea doesn’t get cooked through no matter how long you roast it”. So, there you have it.

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Taking a break from brewing

October 6, 2012 · 12 Comments

No, not me. The tea.

Some of you already know this or have experienced this first hand. Sometimes when you are drinking a tea, you reach a point where you feel the tea is no longer capable of giving you much of anything. At this point, the instinctive thing to do is to dump it, and then start over, or just call it a day.

However, one way to deal with this is to actually let the tea rest – not for a few minutes, but for a few hours, or maybe even overnight. You can just leave it in your gaiwan or yixing. I’m not sure what the mechanism is, but it does seem to me sometimes a tea will get pushed and pushed, and it seems to run out of juice and you get nothing other than slightly sweet water. However, I suspect what’s going on is that as the leaves are still wet, something in the leaves break down during the resting time, and the tea therefore yields some more to you. Moreover, your tastebuds might be getting a rest too, so all of a sudden you’re fresher, and the tea, in some ways, also seems fresher.

I grandpa a lot of teas these days, as my workplace is not very gongfu friendly. I was drinking my usual aged tieguanyin the other day at work, and at the end of the day, drained the cup and left the leaves in there, lid open. The next morning, I came in, poured the cup full of hot water, put the lid on, and “baked” the tea for probably half an hour. The result was a pretty flavourful tea that was surprisingly interesting – even more than normal, with a good minty feeling that normally isn’t very obvious in this aged tieguanyin. I ended up having another cup of this tea before finally giving up on it and throwing the leaves out.

I’m not sure what happened, but I’m pretty certain the flavours I got the next morning was a little different from the usual, as I drink this tea pretty often. I suspect something happened overnight that made it taste a little different – possibly some kind of chemical breakdown, possibly the effect of it drying, or maybe the morning sun shining on the leaves did something. Regardless, something happened, so I got a different flavour profile than if I had just poured another cup. It’s as if I was drinking a different, but somewhat related tea.

I know others who do this too, but in different ways. Some will keep long-brewing the tea for hours, others will let the tea rest for a few hours and return to it half a day later. Regardless, resting the tea, somehow, seems to revive it a bit, just enough to give you a few more interesting cups. Of course, that may not necessarily be what you want all the time – a crappy tea isn’t going to magically transform into something amazing with this technique, but if you think a good tea is about to die on you, let it go and come back later. You could be surprised, though, I should caveat, not always pleasantly.

Categories: Teas
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Other people’s seasoning

October 4, 2012 · 6 Comments

Many of you have probably read the apocryphal story of an emperor visiting some farmer, was brewed some tea. When asked, the farmer replied that there was no tea, only seasoning from the pot. And there’s the story about a collector wanting to buy a pot from a farmer for a good price, and the next day when he came back, he found out that the pot was cleaned and so no longer wanted it – stories like this reinforce the idea that Yixing pots will season over time, and that when properly seasoned with years of brewing, are themselves capable of amazing teas.

I’m sure when you stare at that teapot of yours that you bought two or three years ago, you might be wondering how, if ever, that pot might acquire any taste from all the teas you’ve brewed in it. I certainly had wondered the same thing. Sometimes, though, it’s good to get some positive feedback.

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This is a shot of a white mug I have, with water from an old pot I bought about two years ago from eBay. I never actually used the pot since I purchased it, because it’s a big one – about 350ml or so. Last night, with MadameN wanting some easy to drink tea, I decided to try this pot. The pot is already pretty clean. After rinsing it with cold water, I poured hot water in it to clean it a bit. The first rinse I threw out. This is the second rinse. The water spent maybe a total of 10 seconds in the pot, and the colour, as you can see, is a light yellow.

The pot smelled right after the rinse too – a slight sweet smell, reminding me of green tea residue. I didn’t actually taste it, but it’s pretty obvious it’s not going to taste like plain old water. The pot was advertised on eBay as something that the seller’s grandmother bought from China.Who knows how much green tea has been brewed in it over the years.

This pot is actually not a Yixing, but rather a Chaozhou pot – it’s also one of the few big Chaozhou pots I’ve encountered. Chaozhou pots seem to have a clay that is more porous than Yixing. I’ve never done any A/B tests with them against Yixing to see the effects they have. That might be something worth trying.

I ended up brewing some awkward sort-of-aged Taiwanese Lishan oolong in the pot – sweet, smooth, easy to drink, while still tasting a touch green. It’s not a bad combo.

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Too bad it’s so big, otherwise I’d use it more.

Categories: Objects
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Taobao lottery: 2011 Douji “Yudou”

October 1, 2012 · 9 Comments

A recent development in my tea consumption is the fact that I got a new credit card that allows me direct access to Taobao – whereas previously one needed a mainland bank account to pay for things on Taobao, which means dodgy bank transfers and annoying paperwork, with this card I can use it directly without any hindrance and get a bill at the end of the month. This, as you can imagine, is a very bad thing.

Among the things I bought recently is a total surprise. It’s a surprise because I didn’t buy it – I was buying something else entirely, but somehow the vendor sent me the wrong thing – something he doesn’t even lists as being sold, but he obviously has. The cake in question is the Douji 2011 Yudou (jade dou).

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The dreaded sticker – which, I’m happy to report, is no longer as sticky as their 2006/2007 teas, which means less damage to the paper when you try to peel it off.

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And a complete surprise when I opened the wrapper – you can tell where a major market for Douji tea is, and it’s not China.

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The Yudou is a blend. Any of Douji’s “xdou” cakes are blends. Whereas prior to about 2008, they listed clearly what their teas were, starting around then they came out with a large series of “xdou” which were various blends of various things. I believe Yudou is one of the higher grade ones. I’ve never had any of these, mostly because ever since about 2007 Douji’s prices have slowly crept up as they got more famous, and also because there’s just such a dizzying array of them. I’d rather spend my time drinking some of their higher end products and so never actually tried these things.

The cake, as I discovered, sells for $47 at eBay through China Chadao, which is about the same price as the Taobao prices. Douji is an outfit that has been able to maintain a fairly good grip on its secondary vendors, and keeps the prices of everyone’s teas about the same – if you go to Taobao and search, you’ll find that most of their products are sold in the same tight range of prices, as there’s a clear floor under which you’re not allowed to sell. I talked to one of these guys last year when I went to Beijing, and he said if they discover you’re selling under the floor, your franchise as a Douji distributor will be immediate revoked. So you don’t risk that.

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It’s not a bad looking cake, and it smells ok too. China Chadao claims it’s a blend of four teas – Mengku, Hekai, Mengsong, and Youle, probably in that order.

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The tea tasted that way – a lot of high notes that reminds me of Mengku tea, with some Menghai undertones and maybe just a hint of Youle. It has a decent throatiness, but somehow, at the end of the day, delivers a relatively unsatisfying cup – it’s nice and all, and has a lot of bells and whistles, but after a few infusions, it’s a bit thin and boring, and doesn’t leave me wanting more. This is quite unlike a lot of what I’ve been drinking recently, which are mostly supposed gushu samples from a few different Taobao vendors. Even the bad ones are interesting, at least. This tea checks the boxes, but isn’t that interesting.

I was lucky, since I got this tea at 49 RMB – the cake I paid for was 98, and the seller gave me half refund for sending me the wrong thing. I only realized afterwards that he probably lost money on this trade. At the price I paid, this tea is quite fine. At $47 though, I’d have to think about it. That, unfortunately, is the larger story of a lot of newer teas these days – they are expensive, but often without anything to show for it. A friend recently bought a 2012 Douji “Banzhang” cake recently to try at a not-very-low price, and the tea is all Laoman’e – bitterness to infinity. That, unfortunately, is not really what you want in your tea, and certainly not if you’re paying good money for it. It’s hard committing to new productions of puerh this year. We can always hope that prices will come down again after a few years of nonstop rises, but hope, alas, does not make it happen.

Categories: Teas
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Emails sent

September 30, 2012 · Leave a Comment

Last posting about the curated samples #1 in a while – I just sent out emails to everyone. You should’ve gotten an email either for 1) getting a sample, 2) not getting a sample, or 3) being on the wait list. If you didn’t hear from me at all and the email didn’t get spammed, then I probably mistyped your email address and you should contact me at mail@marshaln.com

I’ll probably post my own notes about the teas in a few weeks, but I don’t want my voice to colour what others might think of them, so I’ll wait until at least most people have gotten a chance to try them. In the meantime, the blog will be back to the regularly scheduled programming starting tomorrow.

Categories: Misc
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Curated Samples #1: Roasted tieguanyin

September 26, 2012 · 64 Comments

This post is about the first set of Curated Samples. For details of my rationale and thinking behind this project, please go read the original post. For clarity, I’ll divide this post under smaller headings.

The teas

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As I mentioned before, the inaugural Curated Samples will be a set of five teas. They are leaves from the exact same batch of tieguanyin, with the only variable between them being the time spent in the roasting oven. The tea was roasted by a shop that has been in operation for over fifty years, and whose owners have always done their own roasting. They switched to electric roasting about 30 years ago during the 80s, when regulations and escalating costs meant that owning a large, charcoal roast warehouse was no longer an option given their location in the city.

The bottom left you see above is the original tea, with no roasting at all done by the roaster. The one at the bottom right is the final product, after spending 59 hours in the roaster. The three above, from left to right, are the intermediate ones, at 15, 30, and 45 hours each. You can see slight variations in the colour of the dry leaves in the intermediate ones, although they are not immediately obvious. The difference between roasted and unroasted, of course, is night and day.

The only tea that is sold by this shop is the final product, the bottom right one. The rest are not sold, and in fact, the owner pretty much flat out said the intermediate ones are not very good at all. I asked him to do this for me because I wanted an example where we can completely isolate the roasting time as the only factor that differs between the teas, and by taking a bit of tea out of the oven every 15 hours, we are ensuring that they have been through as little variation in their processing as possible. This is not the same as trying different teas with different roasting levels, because in those cases they may have been roasted in different ways to achieve different tastes. Here, they have gone through the exact same thing, but only with different times. This is why the intermediate teas are not considered finished products – in fact, they’re basically half baked, literally.

For some of you, this might be some of the highest roasted teas you’ve ever tried, since teas like this is not routinely sold in the West outside of a few outlets. Most tieguanyin you encounter these days tend to be closer to the raw tea you see here, and even roasted ones are quite a bit lighter than even the 15 hours version here. Such teas are quite popular in Southeast Asia and is the traditional teas used for the Chaozhou gongfucha.

What I hope this will show is the difference that time spent in roaster will do to a tea, and what, exactly, roasting does to a tea to begin with. While the dry leaves don’t seem to differ that much, you can see that the liquor is somewhat different.

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Also, as a bit of an added bonus and something that Brandon reminded me of just now, the final roasted tea is actually almost exactly the same in style and taste as many fake aged oolongs that are being sold on the market. Very often, you may encounter aged oolongs that are very highly roasted and claims to be quite old – 20 or more years, with the additional claim that it has been reroasted frequently. In fact, they are often just newly roasted tea pretending to be old. This tea is not sold as aged oolong at all, but some would do that, so knowing what this tastes like will help you distinguish fake, heavily roasted oolong from aged ones.

For this set, I will include 25g each of the 0, 15, 30, and 45 hours of roasting, and 50g of the final product for the purpose of comparison. So, this will be a total of 150g of tea.

The cost

The entire set will be priced at $60 USD, inclusive of everything. This includes costs for the tea, packaging, shipping, as well as my legwork and time, as I have mentioned in the last post. It will be shipped via registered mail worldwide at the same price. If you can show me that you’re a current full time student at some institution, I’ll take 20% off. I think Paypal is the only logical form of payment here. There are a total of 30 spaces for this.

Signup

Many of you have expressed interest in the project, but not necessarily for this specific set. I also hadn’t announced the price for the packet at that time. If you have already expressed interest and I don’t hear from you again, I’d assume you’re still interested, in order to save you the trouble of having to sign up again. Some of you, however, look like you might have used an email address that isn’t real. If that’s the case, please post a response here with your real email address, so I can contact you. Those who haven’t expressed their interest, please do so within the next 72 hours. If you expressed interest but only generally, but not actually interested in this particular round (some liked my aged oolong idea better, for example) please let me know as well so I’ll take your name out. After that, I will put everyone’s name in a lottery and allocate the samples to the 30 names that popped out. Of course, if interest level is lower than that, then there’s no worry.

Then what?

I am thinking of withholding from posting about these teas until almost everyone has had a chance to try them. I will probably create a separate page on this blog and those who have the tea can post their own thoughts, if they so wish, there. I hope this may facilitate some discussion about what they get from the roasting levels, and anything else that pops out. Ultimately, I hope this will be an interesting, and somewhat nerdy, exercise in communal tea exploration.

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The retaste project 13: 2005 Fuxing zihao Youle

September 23, 2012 · 2 Comments

Back in 2007, I was doing research in Taipei for half a year after having spent a year in Beijing. It was there where I discovered good aged Taiwanese oolong, and also drank a fair amount of puerh of various kinds while there. One of the stores I loved visiting was Fushen, with a very interesting laobanniang who runs the shop. It mostly sells teapots, but has some tea on the side. It was there where I picked up a few tongs of this tea.

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This was a tea made by some Taiwanese guy who went to Yunnan to press his own cakes, and who used the name Fuxing and then now switched the company’s name to something else entirely. I bought two of his cakes – the only two available – one of which is this Youle, and another is a Zhangjiawan. I remember the Youle being stronger, but the Zhangjiawan seems a little more interesting. I haven’t tried either cake since late 2007/early 2008. The last time I wrote about this tea was in September 2007, right after I bought it.

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This is the exact same cake that was pictured in my 2007 post. I think it got a little darker, but that’s it. Not that one would expect earth-shattering changes in five years.

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The tea’s liquor is way darker than I remember – I remember it coming out a golden yellow type colour, for something about two years old at the time. It’s completely lost the youthful aggressiveness that it had – the tea was, if I remember correctly, pretty strong and a bit bitter, even though it had lots of overtones of fruitiness. The notes are also darker and deeper now – sweet, more mellow, a bit more savoury. The wet leaves (still brewing) are also darker and no longer lime green like in the old pictures. I like this tea as it is, and certainly do not regret buying it then at what I remember to be a pretty reasonable price. I’d imagine my cakes in the tongs are a bit different – perhaps aging a little slower, but might also retain more flavour. I look forward to drinking more of this tea in the future.

Categories: Teas
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An international pot

September 20, 2012 · 5 Comments

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The potter Petr Novak has been making teaware for a while now, and offering them to us who are interested in something a little different. A while back, I bought a shiboridashi, which is a style of Japanese kyusu that looks a bit like a gaiwan with a spout, from him, intending it to be a gift. I haven’t gifted it yet, and am not sure if I want to. The pains of a hoarder.

Yesterday I got the above pot in the mail, one of the last of the Yixing pots in Czech Republic series, I believe. I found the experiment fascinating, and right up my alley of the kind of things I’d like, so I asked if I can get my hands on one. Here it is.

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The pot is shiny. It’s much shinier than your usual yixing pot, which in my unqualified, ignorant view of pottery is probably attributable to higher temperatures. The surface of the pot is not quite smooth – it feels slightly sticky, actually. The clay inside the pot looks visibly different from the outside, which I guess is because of the firing process and the difference in temperature, or something along those lines. The same can be said of the base of the pot, which doesn’t have the same colours or texture as the body, and is closer to what’s on the interior. The grains of the clay are larger than what you normally see on Yixing clay these days, but then again, these days they’re so fine I actually don’t like them.

I haven’t had a chance to try these yet with tea, but this should be pretty interesting!

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Signup policy

September 17, 2012 · 22 Comments

Seems like there’s enough interest in the Curated Samples. I think in the interest of fairness, I need to institute some sort of lottery system, should demand exceed supply when I have the tea at hand.  Otherwise, it’s a “whoever saw the post first” deal and due to time zone differences, it’s deeply unfair for the parts of the world that is still sleeping, or are otherwise occupied and thus unable to write something before seats are all filled.

More on that later, when I actually have the teas ready and figured out the final pricing, etc. But my current thinking is that if demand does exceed supply, I’ll have a sort of lottery with names and the ones that come out will be the ones that get a seat, so to speak. Hope that’s all right with everyone.

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MarshalN’s Curated Samples

September 17, 2012 · 82 Comments

Every so often, I get people asking me if I would get into the tea business. After all, I’m well located for it, I spend a lot of time hunting for teas anyway, and I always talk about things that people can’t buy easily in the West, so if I don’t provide it, who would? I’ve always refused, because I don’t want to become a vendor, which would compromise my ability to speak freely on my blog here, and it also simply isn’t what I want to do.

At the same time, I do want to send people tea to share, especially if it’s something they can’t find easily. I send samples to friends often, but usually only in a limited capacity. My last attempt at a big tea distribution, which took place in 2007, taught me to not do it again. It’s a real drag – spending a lot of time, effort, and money. I did get feedback on both samples, but I felt the experience underwhelming and ultimately rather superficial, so I never did it again. Buying things for people can often end badly, so I don’t usually do that either.

Recently I’ve been thinking about what’s useful in terms of learning about tea. And then, at a recent tasting I hosted for two friends in Portland, it hit me that comparative drinking is really at the core of what we do when we try to learn more about teas. You can’t know what is good without knowing what is bad, just like you can’t be aware of the range of possible tastes among shuixian if all you’ve had are light roasted ones. Sampling is about broadening horizons, and it is a low risk way to stretch into areas that you might not be familiar with.

So with that in mind, I think there’s something that I can do here that’s both intellectually interesting and not devolve into just merely selling tea. Working off the idea of having flights of tea, I am going to try and organize what I call Curated Samples. These are teas that I have found that I believe, together, will hold some educational/learning value. In other words, I think the samples, together as a group, will have more value than merely sum of the parts. They are going to be limited in quantity – perhaps 20-30 sets at a time. They are also going to happen pretty infrequently – currently I am thinking perhaps 2-3 times a year, depending on whether inspiration strikes or not and whether it is practical or not. Some will take a considerable amount of time to gather – for example I want to do one with age Taiwan oolongs, showing what I think are the four or five standard “types” that exist out there, but finding the right teas in sufficient quantity will take a good amount of time, so that will be ready when it’s ready.

These samples will have to be sold, to pay for the tea, the material, and the time and effort to acquire them. What will not happen is that the samples will not be sold separately – it’s either all or nothing. Also, there will be no more of the teas, even if you love them. If they are acquirable (sometimes they are) I am happy to show you around if you come to Hong Kong, but as currently conceived, at least some of these are not going to be found anywhere. If you liked them, well, I’m glad, and I hope you took good notes so next time you run into a tea like it, you’ll know. Of course, because of the nature of the Curated Samples, I am not going to say you’ll love them all. Some will be placed in these sets precisely because they make a point, rather than because they’re enjoyable, although I’d imagine at least a few teas each time should be pleasant. Pricing of the samples will differ depending on the teas we’re dealing with. Since this is an educationally minded project, if you can prove to me you’re a current student somewhere, I will give you a discount.

Having said all that, the first set of samples I want to provide is going to be around roasting. Specifically, it will be the same tea, a tieguanyin, repeated five times, but with 0, 15, 30, 45, and 60 hours of roasting by the seller. Only the 60 hours version is what the shop sells – the rest I requested with a special order for him to do for me, and are teas that he doesn’t think taste very good but will do anyway, because I asked for a favour. I just got a call two days ago that he’s about to start roasting them, so they’re being roasted as I type this, and I should get them by the end of the week. There should be a total of about 25-30 spaces.

I’ll write more on the teas when I have them in hand. In the meantime, if you are interested in this, please let me know via the comments. This way I can gauge if people actually want this sort of thing, and, should there be greater interest than I have space for, I have to devise a way to make sure distribution is fair.

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