A Tea Addict's Journal

Laocong rougui

September 17, 2007 · 5 Comments

This is one of the acquisitions over the past weekend — a laocong (old bush) rougui.

This is what I will say is a heavy roast. It has been aged a bit to mellow out the “fire” taste in the tea, but there’s still a bit of it left. The tea’s not particularly cheap, but I’ve been wanting to try some of the stuff available here in Taiwan to compare with stuff I’ve got from China, and this store sells basically every kind of Wuyi Yancha imaginable.

Although rougui is supposed to have some sort of cinnamon aroma, I have never in my life found that to be the case. I don’t know … is it just me?

The tea brews a darkish coloured tea

This is with a 80% fill of dry leaves in the rather small pot that I use.

The first few infusions were quite good — very good, actually. Deep, full flavours that coat the mouth, and the lingering aroma lasts quite long. Sniffing the dried cup yields a pleasant sweetness. Some qi, although perhaps not as much as I’d like, given the price. The aroma in the cup lingers for quite a while — I can still smell it distinctly from the fairness cup hours after the last (rather weak) infusion has left it. It lasted easily for 10+ brews, and can keep going if I wished. Of course, the tea turns to a sweet, mellow flavour after about 5-6 infusions, but one of the things about yancha is that they keep going, and going, and going….

I am rather curious to try some of this guy’s other offerings, since this initial one is not bad at all. There are some rarer varietals that are on sale there that aren’t usually found elsewhere. Prices range from medium to high, but if the quality is good… getting 100g isn’t that much of an investment. These teas generally keep pretty well, and aren’t too fussy. If only the store is not so out of the way. Yancha is very pleasant as a regular drink, as opposed to young puerh, which, despite my frequent intake, is never really quite pleasant, necessarily speaking. One reason I didn’t try one of the new cakes I bought is precisely because I feel like I need a break from that young stuff…

I still can’t tell much from wet leaves for yancha. Leaves here seem a little smaller, perhaps an indication that more tender leaves are used (thus better). Roasting is obvious, but not so much that it becomes black. Honestly, of all the kinds of tea, I feel that yancha is perhaps the most difficult to understand. It’s easy to appreciate, but to be able to figure out the ins-and-outs of any one particular batch…. I should probably go to Wuyi again and spend a few days just observing their processing. The tea requires so much skill — from picking, processing, roasting — it’s extremely complex and the factors that go into the final product are many.

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A short shopping trip

September 16, 2007 · Leave a Comment

Yesterday I went to two shops, both of which were relatively unexciting. I bought a little bit of stuff, but mostly of curiosity and not because they represent what I really see as very high quality stuff.

I was a bit dissatisfied, and seeing that there is a store in my neighbourhood that I haven’t visited (the Chinese version of puerh-teapot is probably most useful for that) I decided to go there and take a look. They even have a website, which is rare especially for a store in my neck of the woods, since they don’t seem to be a huge operation. (Website in Chinese, and I linked you to the puerh page which is more easily navigable).

I walked in, and there were already a good three or four people at the store, sitting around the big table in the middle. The decor of the place falls into the “neighbourhood shop” kind of decor — rather dark, very unimpressive looking, with lots of pots lined on the wall and some puerh cakes in one corner of the store. They also had the obligatory bags of oolongs, but I get the sense those really don’t move much.

The person who was manning the desk was an old lady, who turned out to be the mother of the store owner. I was left alone to look at the cakes (I first quickly looked at the pots — some of which look very good). Most of the cakes on the website exist in the store. It was an interesting collection, and some of the stuff are even available in Western shops. I was, of course, rather curious that this unassuming looking store has this rather interesting collection of puerh — and all only less than 10 minutes walk from my place!

Meanwhile, some other guy walked in, and he started chatting me up. It seems like what I said was enough to impress upon him that I am not quite a complete newbie to tea, so I think that smoothed conversation. I eventually settled down at the desk, trying a tea that I picked out — it’s one of the cakes I’ve never seen before (page 6 of the website, third one from the left on the top row). It looked good enough, and I’ve never encountered it. It’s from “Zhang Jia Wan” or “Zhang family bay”. It’s a village in Mengla, which is part of the Mengsa mountain, a bit away from Yiwu, but not too far. Some will fuddle and say this is a Yiwu tea, but it’s not quite.

The dry leaves are dark, and the taste interesting. It’s very mellow, but there’s something there, something that penetrates down the throat. She brewed it in a tasting set — those white cups with the lid. It wasn’t an ideal way to try it given that she wasn’t doing long brews. Nevertheless… interesting tea.

I tried the other cake that is under that private label (the one on its right on the website). It’s from Youle… even mellower, and very smooth. It’s harder to tell if this cake is really good or really bad. I can’t quite decide. It tastes less aged than the first one, which is in and of itself an interesting thing. I don’t know how that can be the case, since they’re both from 2005 and made by the same folks and stored in the exact same way. I suppose it’s all a function of the raw materials and the processing. Food for thought.

Meanwhile, conversation continues. Obviously, everybody at the store know each other well. What also became obvious is that this place doesn’t just deal mostly in teapots.. it deals mostly in high end teapots, and has deep connections in Yixing. She knows quite a few of the craftsmen. She also seems to know most of the more famous personages in tea in Taiwan. You would never be able to tell by the unassuming store and the location.

She was quite generous and let me try another tea, made by Ta Culture Tea of Malaysia (website still under construction, it seems). She said the owner of the place, or at least one of the owners, is actually Taiwanese, and he gave her quite a few sample cakes of different provenance. The one I tried was a Bulang. It’s obviously made of good material. I don’t know how much, but I suspect it won’t be cheap. Very durable tea, made of mostly spring tips. Interesting…

I ended up leaving the place with one cake each of the two teas I tried, since they are not too expensive at all and are rather interesting in their own right. I want to try them more thoroughly before deciding if they’re actually good or bad, as the conditions at the store made that a little difficult. I also seem to have found a connection to a Pinglin farm while there (one of the other people there is from a tea farmer family), so maybe going to see a tea farm will now be an easier thing come October, when they start harvesting again (fall pick was just done, apparently). Obviously, today was a good day.

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Teashop archetypes

September 15, 2007 · 6 Comments

A collection of archetypes of tea stores in Greater China, not exhaustive:

The Grand Old Store — stores that have been around for years, maybe decades. Often run by old men wearing wifebeaters. They often look quite glum (the store, that is), with old decor and a counter that is quite worn, maybe with an old cash register (the mechanical kind) to boot. They deal mostly in wholesale business, and so often have an attitude when a youngish person walks in poking around looking at things. They honestly couldn’t care less if you buy your 150g of tea or not, but they will, however, brew stuff for you to try if you ask. Not the easiest to walk into and shop, but can be quite rewarding, because they could be cheap, and they are often cultural experiences in their own right.

The 7-elevens — stores that are just around the corner from some residential area, serving primarily the locals. They generally don’t have very good tea, and prices are not necessarily cheap, because they’re the final link in the tea food chain before the consumers (who are often not very knowledgable and just want some tea) buy them. You’re not likely to find good stuff here, although sometimes for things like puerh it could be possible to find bargains in such places. Not likely to hold much interest for the visitor who doesn’t live in the area.

The art galleries — stores that are more or less selling culture, not tea. Often well decorated, with pretty salesgirls clad in qipao and that kind of thing (substitute qipao for kimono when in Japan). Prices are high. Tea can be good, but that’s actually no guarantee because the owners who open these things often claim to be experts, but I’ve found some to be less than expert sometimes. They are often a joy to drink tea in, but not always a joy to buy tea from. They will tell you a pretty story, with fancy settings, etc, and entice you to pay premium bucks for something that you can buy next door for half the price. A few places in Yongkang in Taipei, for example, fall into this category.

The one-man-show — stores where the owner lives in it, practically (or sometimes, literally). Sometimes these expand into bigger shops, maybe even with a branch or two, as the Best Tea House eventually did, or they just stay small and stay slim, as many others do. Tea selection and prices depend highly on the owner’s preferences, and it seems success in this sort of venture require a good bit of luck and definitely some skill. Prices are often not low at these places, but selections can also be very good, as I think it does take some dedication to tea and the tea business to actually do this kind of thing with a passion (and spend so much time on it). I went to a store like this today, and got some interesting things. Not too cheap, but could be very good. I find these are often the most enjoyable to visit, because you can really get into a conversation with the owner about the teas they sell, etc, and spend hours chatting over some good tea. Many shops in Maliandao are also of this type, although there, knowledge of tea varies very considerably.

The retailer pretending to be wholesaler — this is mostly a mainland phenomenon, I think, where you have bona-fide tea markets where dozens, or even hundreds, of tea shops gather together. They all say they’re wholesalers, but often they’re just retailers pretending to be wholesaler, trying to get you to think you’re paying a better price than you actually are. Some are genuinely doing wholesale while also retailing, as my friend L’s store is, but many are very dependent on the retail business. They overlap with the one-man-show sometimes, but not all the time, as some of these are started by non-resident owners who are just in the business of tea without the interest, and staffed by (often) country girls who are just here for a job in the city.

The fake teahouses — these are places where they’re either a restaurant, a cafe, or some other such thing, but calling themselves a teahouse to make themselves seem higher class, more cultured, etc. Tea selection can be iffy, but can have some gems sometimes. Prices are universally high, of course, especially if you sit down and drink stuff. They are more into selling food and snacks, and tea is just part of the menu.

The real teahouses — these are places that do focus on tea as their primary business. If you are generous, you would include places like Chunshui Tang where they mostly sell bubble tea. If not, then it limits the range to only places like Wisteria in Taipei (there are others like it, but it is the most famous). You go there to drink tea, maybe with a few friends, but you don’t go to eat, or snack, or just hang out. Drinking tea is your purpose there. Selection can be ok to great, and decor often is pleasant. Difference between this and the art galleries is mainly on the focus — whether it seems to do more sit-in drinking or more take-out.

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Weird cake revisited

September 14, 2007 · Leave a Comment

A few weeks ago I tried this tea. It was brewed lightly, and the reuslt was ok, pleasant, not too offensive, but not too much to write home about.

I decided to try it again today, with a heavier hand.

Some of the same things remained. The most noticeable thing though, is that the odd smell coming from this tea — a bit of a slightly weird, perhaps fermenting smell, is very strong when brewed heavier. The way the leaves smell, the tea smells and tastes too. I don’t think it is a particularly good taste. I do think the taste will eventually fade, but right now, it is very strong.

The tea is medium bodied, with some sweetness, but still bitter for the most part. Rough, not too rough. It’s a bit like a younger version of yesterday’s tea, although with a bit better longevity and also a bit more sweetness later on, which yesterday’s tea sort of lacked. You can see the raw nature of the tea in later infusions, when it sort of returns to a more green cake state. The change in colour is noticeable, and the last infusion is sort of a golden yellow rather than a brown.

I’m not sure what to make of it. Perhaps this is just the smell of whatever storage facility it was in — and the storage smells a bit nasty? It seems to be the case, as the base tea seems quite ok, and underneath the smell I can detect some more floral notes. However, I do wonder why the tea behaves the way it does. I even wonder if it has been doctored a bit to appear more aged. I did comment last time that I don’t think this is a real Menghai. I did buy it mostly out of curiosity more than anything else. It will be interesting to see what happens to it… perhaps after a few months of airing out, it will change? Who knows.

The wet leaves look better than yesterday’s

But some leaves are oddly shaped — look at the one on the left

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a leaf with that kind of shape before — with a round, big bottom and tapered ends. Usually they are thickest in the middle.

Odd.

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Loose puerh from Off-Chaism

September 13, 2007 · 6 Comments

Before I start ranting for the day… I should apologize for what must be an obvious lack of attention recently on this little venture of mine. I’ve been spending whole days at the library hammering out data these days, so it’s been a bit… taxing on the fingers and the brain for me to spend too much time on blogging.

But still, a man needs his tea, and keeping a diary of what I drink and what thoughts occurred to me was and still is the primary purpose of this thing.

I decided to start partaking some of the things I have purchased since I got here. I’ve already tried that cake I bought once, but the other stuff, I haven’t yet. It’s high time to try them now, a month after arrival and two earthquakes later…

This tea is a loose leaf puerh, allegedly aged 10 years, that I bought from Off-Chaism, one of the shops in the Yongkang area. It’s a bit expensive for what it is, but I wanted to buy some and try it, because it was a bit…. interesting when I tried it in the shop. Packaging in these high end shops tend to be nice

The original box is the darker brown one, then inside is the light brown envelope thing, within which is the foil bag. The little bag of moisture-soaking pebbles was enclosed within the foil bag. A lot of packaging for 100g of tea, really.

The tea looks nondescript, but you can smell a bit of agedness from it. I should probably leave the bag in open air for a bit — it should help the tea.

It brews up somewhat aged looking tea

This tea is odd. At first it was really quite nice…. impressive aroma, great depth, pretty reasonable qi. It was not rough, still bitter, and overall quite decent. Somewhere in the middle, though, it starts to fade a little. Perhaps because it is loose leaf, it doesn’t last quite as long as compressed teas. The bitterness also stays quite constant, which was slightly annoying. I think it could be because it’s still transitioning, and perhaps if I air it out a bit it will get better, but I also think that the tea probably wasn’t a great tea from a great area when young — it reminds me of Lincang area stuff, or maybe even border tea of some sort.

The wet leaves turn out to perhaps prove my point

The leaves are large, but there’s a sort of roughness to the surface of the tea and a certain stiffness. Some of the leaves feel like yellow leaves, which are stiffer, rougher, as well as less flexible. Even the smaller buds don’t feel too great. This might possibly be due to storage too — I think the tea is a touch wet stored — but I don’t think wet storage in so light a condition would cause this alone. More likely, it was simply inferior leaves when it first started out.

I definitely won’t get this one again, although that initial few cups were quite ok. I think if I brew it with a lighter touch, I can get more of the aroma and less of the problems from the tea. At the price I paid though, I could spend some more and get a whole cake of stuff that’s probably better — or at the very least, with a lot more potential. Lesson learned, but it’s an interesting lesson nevertheless. Who knows, maybe give it another 10 years and it’ll be a fine tea, although I suspect the remaining ninety something grams won’t make it that far.

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Yongde 2006 Spring Organic

September 12, 2007 · 3 Comments

The other sample I received from iwii is this thing. It’s surface is pretty. The inside is less pretty

It’s also one of those cakes that have leaves that are layered on top of each other… when I peeled, it peeled right off, and didn’t offer much resistance.

I used a healthy amount of leaves today, and this was the result

A rather golden coloured brew. The tea is quite thick, actually, and has good body. It feels like you could chew on it. There’s a certain floral character to it, and there’s also an underlying bitterness there, although it wasn’t something that was in the foreground. The bitterness also turns into something else – that kind of minty feeling you get with some teas. It did get rough on the tongue after a few infusions, and doesn’t really right itself until very late. The tea has a clean taste — perhaps this has something to do with the organic claim? Although I really don’t know how seriously to take the organic claim of any tea factory in China, especially when it’s not certified by a body outside of the country.

I also don’t take old tree claims very seriously these days. This tea feels like it has genuine old trees mixed in, but for the most part, the number of cakes that claim old tree status probably far exceed the total amount of leaves that can be harvested from real old trees in Yunnan. I even think that were we to cut down all the old trees they still would not be able to produce all those “old tree” cakes out there.

Most of them, as far as I know, are mixed. Some have more, some have less, but even if it’s 10%, they’ll say it’s old tree. How many people can actually tell if it’s a half and half mix (or a 3/4 and 1/4 mix)? There’s also the question of what’s really old. I’ve had teas that are sold as “small arbor tree” that are about 60-80 years old. The guy who was selling it was saying this is not true old tree (normally defined as over 100 years old) but often sold as such because they fetch higher prices, and because they do look/feel somewhat similar. Prices for their maocha, however, differ greatly, and I remember the “small arbor tree” price was about 1/3 of the old tree cakes.

Unfortunately, unless there’s some sort of appelation control, this is never going to be fixed. One way some people defend against this is simply to only buy stuff that are labeled as plantation or from lesser regions — nobody sane would fake these. I know somebody who a few years ago insisted on buying Bulang cakes and not Banzhang (which is a small part of Bulang), because Banzhang prices were going up while Bulang was dirt cheap. That’s no longer true, but there’s still a huge difference between Bulang and Banzhang, and nobody sane would use Banzhang leaves to make a Bulang cake.

Is this cake made of pure old tree material? I think the answer depends on how you define old tree. It probably has some, but I doubt it is all of it.

The tea, early on, also has a bit of “watery” taste. It’s not that it’s weak, but there’s something people call “water flavour”. It’s not a good thing, and is generally indicative of potentially problematic processing, etc

Still, it’s a fair cake, and I was glad to have given it a spin since I was a bit curious. The price isn’t high for what it’s worth these days.

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Infidelity

September 11, 2007 · Leave a Comment

I am not terribly faithful when it comes to drinking tea. You, the observers, can probably tell that I drink a different thing every day. For me, that’s part of the fun — to try new things, to experiment with something different every day. I know some people do it with food, others with movies, etc. Tea, however, has that added advantage that no two sessions are ever exactly the same, at least for me.

I went back to the aged shuixian I have today, and it tasted quite different than last time. It’s less heavy — more airy and aromatic. It opened with an incredible sweetness, but then faded a bit to a dull, slightly boring tea. When I overbrewed it near the end though, the sweetness came back (which means I probably brewing a touch too fast in the middle). There was also something creamy about it at the end. I don’t know what that is.

It’s not a terribly exciting tea, but there’s always a sense of something new… some sort of discovery when one makes a cup. Maybe this is why I don’t use a timer (I tried putting those times down in my blog a few times…. and realized it’s really not for me to do it). It’s more fun that way. I can probably make more consistent cups if I always use a scale (which is mostly used these days to make sure I don’t overstuff my pots with young puerh). I think when one worries too much about the details… how hot exactly the water is, how long exactly the water’s been in the cup… one loses focus on the more important things, which is to relax and enjoy a cup of tea, preferably with friends, but even when alone, there’s much joy to be had.

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Bangwei 2006 Fall

September 10, 2007 · Leave a Comment

I had something relatively benign today, after yesterday’s long tea session. It’s one of those samples from Beijing that are still kicking around. This is a tea from a guy who sells through Sanzui, and from whom I have bought a few things. He always sends free samples along after you buy stuff as part of the shipment, and this is one of those samples that I got. They come in very big chunks (50g or more in a few cases) so he practically gives you a free cake when he sends you 3-4 samples.

I remember I was pretty impressed by this tea — it had strength. When I tried to break it up this time, I noticed that the tea is well massaged when they were rolling it in the cloth, readying it for compression. Rolling it around a little is essential, because otherwise the leaves are not intertwined and the cake will fall apart easily. My sample is one solid piece, and when I tried to pry it apart, the leaves stuck together pretty well. Not all cakes are like this — sometimes the leaves are basically layered and can be peeled easily. Not this cake. After some breaking:

It yields a golden yellow liquor:

Ever so slightly smoky, but otherwise, a bit floral/fruity in its aroma, and has good strength overall in its qi and depth. I still like this tea. I didn’t buy it though — I bought the spring version instead. Some people say Bangwei tea is no good, but I’ve found at least this particular one to be pretty decent, and it’s much cheaper than more famous mountains, which is also a plus.

The leaves are large, stems long, but all very soft and not much of reddishness (a little bit here and there).

Leaves don’t all unfold, which I actually think is not a bad thing. I have heard of problems of tea makers trying too hard to make sure the leaves are whole and unfold, and end up doing too little rolling during the making. Since the rolling is essential to break down membranes and also induce fermentation, etc, when it doesn’t happen enough the tea really suffers in the future — slower aging, or problematic aging. More rolling also makes it more bitter/astringent. I wonder if maybe that’s partly why they say things like the Yellow Label were nasty to drink when they were young.

The cup you see in the picture, by the way, is one of the things Aaron gave me yesterday

I don’t know if it has a name. The most interesting thing about this cup is that it will right itself if tipped. Obviously it will tip over if you’re determined enough to push it, but it does have the tendency to right itself, even with water inside, so even if you tip it over, you will only spill about half a cup — it will not pour everything out like most other cups of more conventional design will. I like bigger cups, and this cup is on the large side. I’m going to use it for a while and see what happens 🙂

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A visit to Miaoli

September 9, 2007 · 7 Comments

Miaoli about an hour and half from Taipei by train, and generally speaking, not much there holds interest for a foreign tourist. I didn’t really go there for the sights today though, as I was there to see Aaron Fisher, most recently of the magazine Art of Tea fame, as he’s the Editor in Chief of that publication.

After picking me up from the train station, we went to his place and quickly got down to business… tea drinking.

We first started out with a Taiwanese oolong he picked up recently, I believe, from Lugu Village in Nantou County, which is a major center of tea production in Nantou. The tea, he says, is organic, etc, and he used his silver teapot to make it. It’s an interesting thing, because I think the silver teapot does achieve a certain concentration of flavour that you otherwise won’t get, although since I haven’t tried the tea any other way, it’s hard to tell if it’s a function of the pot or if it’s just the tea. The tea is very good though, sweet, clear, smooth, a touch grassy, very good qi, and overall very pleasant without the sort of overbearing aroma that I dislike in some Taiwanese oolong. It’s I think reasonably oxidized but not roasted. If I can get a hold of this, or similar tea, I wouldn’t mind getting some.

We then moved on to an aged oolong, a 60s Gaoshan Oolong, if I remembered correctly. Now, he whipped out his silver kettle, a gorgeous little thing, somewhat similar to the one I saw a few weeks ago, but with a smoother surface and a more refined look. I tried a cup of water from the silver kettle (before the water boiled) and it tasted sweet. Then, without thinking about the experimental implications of it, tried a cup of the same water without going through the silver kettle. Not so sweet. Very interesting. Various vessels do change the way a water/tea taste. I do wonder how reproducible this is, but I think it should be fairly reproducible. Then, it’s a matter of whether or not such things are worth the price of admission… and that I suppose depends on your personal preferences, priorities, etc

I’ll buy a silver kettle before I buy a big screen TV though.

Anyway, the aged oolong. As I’ve said somewhere before, I think all aged oolongs tend to converge in taste so long as it’s been stored properly and of reasonable quality. This one is the same — a very pleasant aged oolong taste, no roughness or harshness remaining at all, with that “old” taste that is so characteristic of a tea of this type. I am a big fan of aged oolongs, and I think anybody who hasn’t tried one should definitely try to get their hands on some of this stuff. It’s I think less of an acquired taste than puerh, and it is also usually without all the potential health worries that some people have with puerh, primarily because if an aged oolongs has any mould growing on it… it’s no longer good. Too bad such things are rarely available outside Taiwan, and if they are, they’re too pricey.

We took a short break, and then went back at it. This time it’s a dry stored puerh from the early 70s. I believe the dry storage claim, because though the tea is a reddish black, the leaves are very clean, it doesn’t smell of musty books, and it is very light, meaning it has lost almost all water content. The tea brews a clear ruby liquor, round, smooth, one might say fruity. Oddly enough, the brewed leaves are rather dark, but then, lighting was not bright in the room so it’s difficult to tell for sure what it is like, but whatever, it doesn’t really matter. One need not pursue such things too much as long as the tea is good in the cup. This tea lasted, basically, the rest of the afternoon.

Of course, during all this time we’re not just talking about tea, or teaware. Conversation wandered, and tea was just, in some ways, serving as a lubricant for conversation. Tea is fun, but it’s only part of the fun.

We went to one of the teashops in town that also sort of doubles as a vegetarian restaurant, and then ended up having a little more tea there — this time an 80s tuo, wet stored, but quite decent. It lasted many infusions, and is reasonably priced. Not dirt cheap, mind you, but perhaps worth considering. I’ll have to do some more thinking in that regard.

As if all that was not enough, my host sent me away with many bags of teas to try and experiment with, including some truly interesting pieces of tea (or bits, or balls….), as well as all three issues of the magazine in print and a cup that he designed. I felt ashamed that I didn’t have much of anything to reciprocate, the bad Asian that I am. I’ll most likely talk about all of these things in the not too distant future in detail, as I drink/use/play with them. For now, though, I must thank my host of the day for his hospitality, and I’m quite sure I will bother him again before I leave Taiwan.

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The dangers of unlabeled samples

September 8, 2007 · 5 Comments

Rummaging through my box of samples, I found a clear plastic bag with no labels and a bit of tea in there. Why not? So I took it out and weighed it — 7g. Ok, good for one sitting I guess. It smells like Banzhang. I can’t remember any Banzhang that hasn’t been accounted for…. so heck, I’ll just make it.

I went through the motions and it produced a nice looking golden tea.

The tea is quite smooth, obvious strength, and decent penetration. Hmm, I think I know which one this is. This is the Xizihao 2005 Banzhang that I removed from the paper bag and put into a plastic one. The paper bag was giving the tea a bit of a paperbag smell, and the plastic ones I used from Beijing breath a lot, and don’t smell like much of anything.

The tea is quite decent, and obviously Banzhang in its flavour and what not. I remember the first time I tried this tea I got really dizzy and didn’t feel too comfortable. This time… I paid the price in an upset stomach. It doesn’t happen with all Banzhang, just this particular tea, for some reason. I’ve had other old tree Banzhangs that don’t do anything like this to me. I really don’t know why this is special, but it is.

Oh well, I will have to remember to label them next time.

The wet leaves are quite a mix of things — stems, big leaves, small buds, bud systems…. you’ve got a bit of everything here

I tried an experiment with the leaves after I was done drinking. My friend L, when he went to Yiwu, talked to some guy there who makes cakes. He said Banzhang teas are no good, and that the current craze over it is misguided. The reason is that the leaves of the Banzhang teas are really not very good leaves at all. As an example, he said that if you put a wet leaf of any Lao Banzhang tree between your fingers and rubbed it — it will turn to nothing. All you will be left is a bit of the leaf’s stem, and everything else will be gone — rubbed away. Yiwu, he said, won’t do that.

I tried that today, and hmmm, it’s true.

Now, what this means, if anything, I don’t know. After all, it might be a good thing for a leaf to be easily destroyed by your hand — would that mean more things are soluable in water, thus making a better cup? I don’t know. What I do know is that in China, if you talk to somebody who makes tea, they will always have one conclusion — their own productions are the best. The reasons vary, but the conclusions are always the same. So I will take that comment with a large grain of salt.

Any botanist out there who can shed some light on this?

Anyway, I’m off to bed as I have to get up early to catch a train to Miaoli to see Mr. Aaron Fisher. I’m sure I will have things to report tomorrow 🙂

Categories: Old Xanga posts · Teas
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