A Tea Addict's Journal

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Last Maliandao trip of the year

June 27, 2007 · Leave a Comment

I arrived in Beijing on September 1st 2006. I came here to do research, but I also happened to have come here to study tea on the side. Now, almost 10 months later, I’m about to leave here. This certainly marks an end to one stage of my graduate student career, but also definitely marks the end of one stage of my tea education.

I went to Maliandao today, although the trip was cut short by heavy rain — I didn’t go as early as I had hoped. I went to Xiaomei’s store, to pick up some Benshan that I wanted her to get for me. 500g of benshan costs 40 RMB… so that’s about 5 USD. Selling benshan as tieguanyin can obviously make you big bucks.

While there, I tried a tea that was very odd. It’s a maocha of some sort, a year old, supposedly. Yet, there’s something in that maocha that tastes old. If it weren’t for the obvious and harsh bitterness of the tea, I might even believe that it is an older tea, dry stored. The guy who brought it there said it’s a maocha deliberately made to taste old, and if pressed into cake, it is indeed not too easy to tell and can masquerade as something aged in a dry environment. The leaves are, actually, mostly yellow leaves, of the large and rough kind, and the taste is that of a rougher, harsher, more bitter variety. But it was very odd… probably one of the oddest young puerh I’ve ever tried.

We also had a 3 year old Yiwu that was smooth and mellow, although lacking in any sort of real punch. I think this will develop into a high fragrance kind of Yiwu. Decent potential, and not too expensive. Alas, I’m not in the market for more tea at this point.

I then walked around the market a bit, noting how there are still so many stores I’ve never really been to, or looked at. Yet, I don’t have time anymore, not on this trip anyway. Maybe next time, when I return to Beijing (whenever that is) I will get to go to them, but they may very well not be around by then. As I’m writing this, I just packed up all my puerh cakes, readying them for shipping to Hong Kong tomorrow. I should probably take a picture of how I packaged them, but that’s for tomorrow.

I must say I feel a little sad leaving Maliandao. I’ll be back, of course, and I have learned a lot just wandering the different markets there. I think I have progressed from somebody who only knew a few things about younger puerh to somebody who can at least make some sense of a young tea I’ve never tried before. I am still woefully unknowledgable when it comes to some other kinds of tea. I am hoping that when I go to Taiwan in August, it will remedy my deficiency in Taiwan oolong just as Maliandao has helped me understand young puerh.

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TenFu

June 25, 2007 · 5 Comments

One of the things that I never really said much about in the 10 months I’ve been here is Tenfu, also known as TenRen, or in the States, Ten Tea. For those of you who don’t know them, they are a very big organization, and at least in China and Taiwan, they’re everywhere.

When you walk into TenFu here, you’ll be greeted by a salesgirl (they’re all salesgirls) who will ask you what you might need, and especially if you look foreign (as I, mystifyingly, apparently do sometimes) they will be presenting you with a cup of jasmine tea. On one wall you will see an array of those golden colour tea canisters, with name of tea on them and their price. On the other wall will be a slew of teaware.

The array of teas that TenFu sells basically goes something like… a few kinds of green, some with a few levels, a few kinds of other oolongs, and maybe a million different varieties of tieguanyin, all of the relatively green kind. Prices range from the 100 RMB/500g to the 20000RMB/500g (or even higher, I think). Their puerh are extremely overpriced, and so are everything else, for that matter.

They are ubiquitous in China. Everywhere you go, as long as you’re in a reasonable sized city, you will see at least one. I’ve seen them a few times in Shenyang already, usually in the most central shopping areas, or next to certain sites, or… next to the provincial government, in this case (for the gift-buying crowd). They are one of the few tea stores in China that will sell tea in packaging that is one level up from the ugly foil bags, and they are also a place where they will actually let you taste whatever you want, pretty much (a lot of smaller tea stores that are not in tea markets are a little reluctant about that, sometimes).

The good thing about them is that they do introduce a lot of people who otherwise don’t care much about tea a first entry to decent tea. My friend L, who now runs a tea business, got started with TenFu. He said his family, two generations ago, were tea merchants in Tianjin. Then came the revolution and communism, through which they lost their company, but he picked up interest in tea again when he got involved in tea lessons at TenFu. He’s just one example of many people who are like that. TenFu is actively involved in giving lessons to people in tea, and they have a nice community going. The amount of work they do in promoting tea is certainly worth commending.

The downside is, of course, their price. They are expensive. Everything they sell is overpriced. When I first got to Beijing, I bought a small set of teaware from them that cost me 100 RMB. I probably could’ve bought everything in that package from Maliandao for about 20. That was a lesson learned. A lot of ex-TenFu customers I know now no longer buy stuff from them, because over time they have learned that TenFu sells them stuff that are way overpriced. Far more people, however, just keep buying from them because they just trust them, somewhat blindly, I think. I think it is mostly because it is just too much trouble sometimes for what isn’t really that much money, or uncertain quality, or something like that. Many are happy with what they provide, and that’s that. At the end of the day, I suppose it’s just a matter of “to each his own”, regardless of what it is, where it’s from, or how much it is. So long as TenFu doesn’t lie about their teas (which I don’t think they do), it’s not really a problem. I think when lying starts happening, it’s a different matter entirely.

I do blame them for popularizing the ever lighter oxidation/roast of tieguanyin though, making it hard to find the higher roast stuff. Oh well.

Back to Beijing tomorrow. I think while Shenyang is nice… it’s enough to spend a week here especially with the lack of tea. The archives are not too useful here, for me anyway, although it’s a good thing I finally got to see the old palace here and some unexpected cultural treasures.

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Trying to get the old price back

June 11, 2007 · 5 Comments

It seems like everybody who deals with puerh is trying to get the old price back, although which old price depends on your vantage point.

I went to Maliandao today. I was there to buy some gifts for somebody, as well as buying some tea for myself. I had planned to buy some of the Bulang cakes (aka sample 1), which I only have one of right now. So I went to the store — the only store on Maliandao that has it — and hoped to get some more.

It was on the shelf, just like last time, although the girl who sold the two to me wasn’t there, which isn’t a good thing, as I had hoped for a smooth and quick transaction. I asked the girl working there how much the tea is, hoping for an easy quote…. but I got a quote of more than four times what I paid last time.

Lovely.

Incensed, I started telling her in a rather angry tone how I bought two cakes last time at my previous price, and I didn’t even bargain about it because I was only buying two cakes (I didn’t tell her that also because I thought it was really good value). No no no, she said, it couldn’t be. There’s no way they sold that tea to me for so low. It must’ve been another one. It’s below their cost, etc etc….

I will spare you the whole details of our discussion and arguments, but about two hours later, I got her to agree to sell it to me at the price I paid last time. I was hoping for a better price than last time before I went, partly because I was buying more this time than last, but at this point, I really didn’t have it in me to continue any further, and I really have no reason to believe she will budge any further.

Then… apparently, she couldn’t find it in the store. We looked, and looked, and looked… and indeed, no tongs of this tea was to be found. They might have it in their warehouse, but trying to find a tong or two of a tea in a warehouse is a pretty meaningless exercise, at least on such short notice. I ended up leaving just with the four bings that were in the store… less than what I had hoped for, but alas, this is what I had to live with. At least I got my old price back.

While there, I did try a cake that she purports to be a Shuilanyin from the 80s, which sounds fishy. The tea couldn’t be more than 10 years, and most likely is less than 10 years. Smells of storage, but not wet storage. Not great at all, and asking for far too much.

I then went to Xiaomei’s store to ask for information on something. While there, two people came in whom I’ve met before. Turns out after some discussion that one of them actually owns a lot of tea — something I wasn’t aware of previously from our prior conversations. The guy has jians of, among other things, Menghai’s Classic 66, Gongting Qingbing, Yiwu, “Big Bokchoy” (a nickname for a Banzhang tea that sells for something like 1000 RMB a cake)… etc etc. From the sounds of it, this guy has at least a million RMB worth of tea sitting in storage. I think he’s at Xiaomei’s store to try to push some teas on her to sell for him — he brought along samples. Xiaomei, from what I understand anyway, thinks Menghai tea is too risky now to enter the market. The only time she does anything with them is if she has secured a buyer already, and then connects the buyer and seller and essentially takes a small commission. Holding any Menghai tea is very risky.

Anyway, this million RMB Menghai owner was saying to me how this current dip in the market, with Menghai prices being about half of what it was early this year, is just an opportunity. New spring teas are, once again, starting to arrive from the factory. Guangzhou already received new teas — first time in two months, and the 702 batch of 7542 is all sold out already. There’s rumblings that prices will rise again, and this is a great time to buy some more Menghai tea again and catch this wave.

Somehow, I could almost feel this guy was trying to get me to buy some tea. Perhaps he thinks I actually have that kind of money to spend on tea, and perhaps he’s just getting desperate. Very early on in the conversation I already said Menghai is too pricey for my tastes, but he kept going on and on about how great their teas are. I could feel a sales pitch.

I escaped with a phone call, but it’s clear that some other people — those with great stocks but nowhere to sell them to — are hoping for the old price. It’s just that in their case, they want the higher one. I can imagine many, many, many people being in the same boat, having bought a boatload of tea a while ago and now wondering how they can turn it into cash, unless they want to start cooking with the tea leaves for food. This makes me think that whatever rise in price we might see in the next few months might be quickly quashed by some people who will be eager to use the slightly higher price to get rid of stock on their hands. I also can’t imagine the same fervour in buying that has gripped the market in late 2006. People are now very, very aware of the risks of this investment (as evidenced, among other things, by yesterday’s article), and are, in my opinion, unlikely to jump in with the same enthusiaism.

I ended my trip today with a stop at a Wuyi tea shop, since this was the stop for the gift buying. I went in, told them how much of their 200 RMB/jin shuixian I wanted, in what kind of packaging, paid, and left… no fuss, and all done in minutes. I sat down just to chat with the owner a bit and try one of their new teas while the packing was being done. No bargaining either — prices, at least at this store, are more or less fixed. I didn’t even try the shuixian I bought, since I’ve bought a bunch before and know it’s quality. I must say it was a welcomed relief compared to the endless testing, bargaining, doubting, and regretting in the world of young puerh.

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Buyers don’t buy, sellers don’t sell

June 10, 2007 · 5 Comments

The following is an article that I saw on Sanzui (unfortunately, you need to register to see the original text), which was in turn reposted from sina.net, a Chinese web portal. I’m trying to stick as close to the original text as possible, so some places might read a little awkward. Also, note that 1 USD = 7.7 RMB at current exchange rates. I should also note that coincidentally, I’ve actually met Li Jing at the Shanghai tea expo.

Buyers don’t buy, sellers don’t sell: Today’s puerh in a frozen state

From Jinghong, the capital of Xishuangbanna, to the tea country of Menghai, one must pass through Nannuo Mountain.

On the west side of the highway is the wooden house of Qiuhe. The people live on the second floor, and on the ground floor there’s a huge bag of tea, totaling some 250kg. This is freshly produced spring maocha. Right now it’s May 9th, and the price for old tree Nannuo maocha is about 280 RMB/kg. At this price, just this bag of spring tea is worth 70,000 RMB. Adding in the summer and fall teas, making 100,000 RMB this year is no problem for Qiuhe.

Yet he hasn’t sold one single kilogram of tea. He said he’ll wait — he’s hoping for 300 RMB/kg.

Qiuhe has a reason to wait. This Hani ethnicity family has been living in Nannuo Mountain for generations, and have always relied on tea as a living. From what Qiuhe remembers, in the 80s the price for all teas, plantation or old tree, were the same, around 0.4 or 0.5 RMB/kg. It wasn’t until 1999 when the price rose to 3 RMB/kg. Then after 2004 came around, the price went far beyond what he imagined possible. Two years ago, it hit 40 RMB/kg, and last year at the beginning of the year it was already at 55 RMB/kg. This year it zipped past 200 RMB/kg in no time.

Yet, just across the road, the general manager of the Menghai Shagui Boma Tea Factory, Li Jing, said as soon as I met her, “this year’s no good. Renminbi (RMB) shrinks as soon as it sees tea leaves. What do you think this is?” Her factory didn’t receive an order until very recently for two or three tonnes of tea. “You see that factory down the road? They haven’t even lit their furnace (for making tea)”

Li said that the prices this spring for various famous mountains rose about seven to eight times for plantation teas, and more than 10 times for old tree teas. Take Banzhang village of Bulang mountain for example, last year it was around 100-200 RMB/kg for old tree tea. This year, before May 1st, the price shot past 1250. Hu Wang, who came from Beijing to buy maocha, said he’s even bought some for 1600 RMB/kg.

Banzhang village is almost like a fairy tale this year. When Li came here in April to buy tea, she agreed on a price of 1100 RMB/kg on the first day she arrived. The next day, it went up to 1150. She decided to wait a little, but when she got up the next morning, it was 1200. She decided not to wait any longer, and bought 60kg. The tea cost more than the car that carried it home.

Away from Qiuhe’s home, on the other side of Nannuo mountain in the hamlet of Shuihelao, Xiao Zhixin, a graduate student in anthropology from Beijing University is also seeing the effects that the puerh tea craze has had on the people here. “A few years ago the people here just grew their own rice and corn to eat, some families didn’t even make enough food to feed themselves. Even last year, when the tea prices just started rising, there were only two motorcycles in this hamlet of 240 people. Now most have at least one, if not two motorcycles. There are even some new karaoke bars, and some girls from out of town who just loiter in front of them.”.

Pazheng village, to which Shuihelao belongs, produces mostly plantation teas. They neither have the old trees of Nannuo Mountain, nor the miracle of Bulang mountain’s Banzhang village.

Li Jing said other than families that only have old people and kids, almost every family has a car these days, mostly pickups of some sort. As long as you have an identification card for Nannuo or Banzhang, put down the ID card and sign a contract, you can take home a motorcycle or even a car right away. According to a tea merchant from Beijing, a farmer in Banzhang could make a few hundred thousand RMB easily, and during the harvest season, just one day’s picking would be a few thousand RMB.

But, as one can see from Qiuhe’s old wooden house, the wealth that has suddenly arrived is only affecting one corner of Yunnan. According to Yang Shanxi, the director of Yunnan’s Tea Bureau, on the whole Yunnan fresh (unprocessed) tea leaves prices rose about 2-3 times this year, from last year’s 3-4 RMB/kg to this year’s 10-12 RMB/kg. Even then, it is still far from Zhejiang province’s prices, as maocha for Yunnan is around 62 RMB whereas Zhejiang has reached 182. Zhang Jun of the Tea Institute of Yunnan’s Agricultural Academy thinks that as long as the market develops normally, there’s still ample room for growth in puerh tea prices.

Statistics also show that even though Yunnan farmers have had a substantial increase in their income in recent years, they are still ranked in the bottom when compared with the rest of the country. But the stories of Lao Banzhang has attracted the attention not only of people from Menghai or just the puerh production areas, but the whole country as well.

When asked about her thoughts when she joined the puerh tea industry as a kindergarten teacher in 2005, Li Jing said “when I saw other people making money, I wanted to make some money too”. She has natural advantages, having lived in Nannuo for almost 50 generations. Her father teaches in Lao Banzhang. “I was naive back then. There are lots of relatives, so it was easy to buy maocha. When we got maocha we just made it into finished products and sell. It was easy to make money”.

The same thought went through everybody’s mind. Li said that this year, in the local bank in Menghai, there were four lines of people who were lining up to take out cash. The local branch didn’t have enough money to pay all of them, and had to get cash transferred from Dali to meet the needs. Everybody talks about puerh when they meet. A parent of one of her former students, who used to be a garbage collector, asked when seeing her “Teacher Li, you want puerh? I have all sorts of teas.”

“Prices for rice went up. Prices for vegetables went up. People who used to grow vegetables went to collect tea. People who used to work in restaurants are now working in tea factories. Even nannies are impossible to find” Li said, noting things that outsiders don’t see. “Many tea factories can’t begin production because they can’t find workers. Last year we paid 30 RMB per day for wages. This year people won’t even work for 50”

Li’s problems are not limited to these. She planned to make a tea factory in 2005. In 2006 they made about twenty to thirty tonnes of tea in the spring. With the money she and her partner made, as well as the money loaned to her from her distributors, she expanded the factory’s capacity to 500 tonnes a year, and owed a million RMB in debt in the process. The factory was finished early this year, but prices of maocha is already so high that nobody wants to risk putting down a big order. “If our customers don’t send us money first, we don’t do the order. What if the market crashes? We’ll be dead.”

Factories like Li’s are very common. She said that last year there were only about 50 factories in the area. This year, there are 170. In fact, in the whole of Yunnan, according to Yang Shanxi, puerh processing capability is already approaching 200,000 tonnes a year. Last year’s production of all teas was 138,000 tonnes, with puerh accounting for about 80,000 tonnes of it. This means that there’s already a large distance between capacity and demand, which caused the prices of tea to rise quickly this year. The
other main reason is that rain came late this year, lowering overall production of tea leaves in the spring.

Late night on May 11th, in the lobby of a hotel in Jinghong sat a group of tea merchants from various placing, drinking together. Some of them have already been in Xishuangbanna for two or three months, but they still haven’t placed a big order. After May 1st, the price of Lao Banzhang has already dropped back to 800 RMB/kg, but still, nobody was buying and nobody was selling.

“Right now the situation is quite funny — buyers don’t buy, and sellers don’t sell”, Hu Wang said. He said that on the one hand, tea farmers want a better price. On the other, merchants are worried about risk, so they have been delaying their purchase, which then freezes the market.

A Hebei tea merchant bellowed out “do you bet high or do you bet low?”

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My weekly pilgrimage

June 2, 2007 · 2 Comments

It’s Saturday, which means I go to Maliandao.

These days I don’t have as much adventure spirit as when I first started going there. I think I’ve come to realize that most stores sell similar things. Once in a while, I’ll see something interesting and sit down and try, like the Bulang that became sample 1. Most of the time, however, I don’t really feel like it anymore, as most of the cakes look rather…. mediocre.

So my frequent destination is L’s store in Beijing, co-owned by the very friendly Xiaomei. She said she wanted to try some Guafeng Zhai tea from Yiwu area, so I brought along the Chen Guang He Tang Yiwu Chawang, which is supposedly Guafeng Zhai, for her to try.

The tea actually turned out better than the last two times I’ve had it. It’s smoother today, for some reason. Perhaps we used a little less leaves. It’s a little weak in the aftertaste, although she thought the huigan is nice. I’m glad she liked the tea, although she didn’t like the price so much. Understandable, as that’s a price that automatically builds a lot of shipping charges into it, on top of the tea itself. Hard to be impressed when shipping costs almost nothing in China.

Then some folks came along, and she opened up a Jingmai cake, took out a very beautiful teapot, and brewed it. She got this teapot from L’s financial backer in Shanghai, who deals in the ceramics/pottery business. I have to say I would buy this pot in a heartbeat.

Sorry about the slightly blurry picture in the last one. I especially like the contrast of yellow and blue, and also the little ring around the handle on the lid is a nice touch. The ugly lighter is there for scale. I apologize for the ugliness.

The Jingmai is very nice, although I felt it was a little weak, but the amount of tea used probably had something to do with it. Regardless, it was a nice sight seeing the pot in action.

There are some beautiful leaves in the Jingmai as well.

I had originally planned to go find some Keemun red tea shop to do some studying, so I went around the tea market that Xiaomei’s store is in to find one. No such thing. As it was getting late and all the other tea markets closed, I went to Chayuan. Again…. not a single Keemun store in sight. I think I have to go to the more retail oriented ones to find a good Keemun store for me to do my studying. Oh well, next time.

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The spring that never came

May 26, 2007 · Leave a Comment

Well, maybe the title is a little dramatic, but it seems like this year truly is the spring that never came, at least when it comes to puerh tea.

What I am referring to is the fact that till now, spring teas have not arrived en masse in Maliandao, nor elsewhere, I believe. While here and there, there are some spring teas from this year, by and large they are still sitting in Yunnan, in various factories, in many cases unpressed yet. The ones that have arrived this year are mostly small productions pressed by individuals or what not. It’s already almost June, and most of the stuff from March or April should’ve been ready by now, but they just haven’t showed up and everybody is waiting in anticipation.

I first dropped by the Douji shop. Douji, if you may remember, are the folks who supplied that wonderful six-pack sample of maocha. I went to ask if there might be a few more available, and indeed, there might, although I might have to wait until June, because the owner of the shop won’t get more of them until later, and even then, it comes in pretty limited numbers. The guy has an amazing memory though, and even remembers what I bought last time despite the fact that it was quite a few months ago. We chatted about teas, tried a few of his, and such. Douji’s spring teas are not ready yet either — only one tea, from the Bada mountain, is produced. Everything else is not even pressed yet, so they probably won’t show up until at least late June, if not later.

I tried the Bada, which was ok, and then a Yiwu pressed by the store owner himself. It’s from Guafengzhai, and commands quite a premium price (I think something along the lines of $70 USD). Guafengzhai is also the place where the raw materials for the Chen Guanghe Tang Yiwu Chawang was made, and it’s actually a little away from Yiwu proper. I tried it… there’s some more Yiwu taste than the CGHT version, but still a little off, which I can understand now because it’s simply geographically off a little. Yet this is a spring tea, and I think it’s not bad, if not for the very high price. I don’t think it’s worth it.

Since there wasn’t much of interest, and the new teas haven’t arrived yet, I used that as the excuse to duck out. I then went to L’s store in Beijing, which is run on a day to day basis by his business partner Xiaomei. She was debating about whether to make a purchase decision for some Yiwu teas they got samples of earlier, from some place supposedly a bit away but less harvested…. one of the cakes I suggested no, because it tastes just like a green tea (with that characteristics bitterness that won’t go away). The other… we tested against the Yiwu cake I bought in Shanghai.

The two cakes are remarkably similar. In fact, I’d say that the base characteristics are more or less the same. The different between the two is that mine has an added layer of something… something a little darker, a little heavier. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. It tastes a little odd… a little ricey? The one she has is a little lighter, and a little brighter in its complexion. The aroma is more pronounced, although when cooled, hers produce a slightly disconcerting green-tea like bitterness that isn’t that obvious when hot, while mine doesn’t. Both seem to have slightly different problems, and I honestly have no idea which one will age better. Then again, this Yiwu that she has is also from the same guy who supplied the green-tea cake to her, so I’m really not too surprised to find a bit of green mixed in there somewhere.

Meanwhile, there’s another cake of stuff, the Orange Label, that has us puzzling. L wants to sell this tea, but I have some reservations about it, as I feel like there’s a mustiness that I don’t like at all and that pervades through the tea. I don’t know, other people’s business, really, and I guess I shouldn’t get too involved.

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Things that happen when you walk into a non-puerh store

May 22, 2007 · 1 Comment

So we covered the puerh stores yesterday.  What happens when you walk into a non-puerh store?  This covers, basically, green tea shops and oolong shops.

First of all, unlike puerh shops, non-puerh shops do not really display their teas in any meaningful way.  What you might expect to find in a non-puerh store is basically rows and rows of bags or tins, all of which may or may not be marked.  It is typical, for example, to find a tieguanyin store that has a dozen of those big (3kg?) vacuum bags sitting on the shelf.  Are they all the same grade?  All different?  God only knows.  A Wuyi tea store will more likely have boxes that all say Dahongpao, or perhaps tins that name the teas (but not necessarily correspond to the stuff in the tin).  A green tea store will have similar setups.

So… you, as the consumer, has basically no idea what a store actually offers.  You can, of course, know the general genre of teas they sell by looking, but that’s about it.

Which also means… you are at the mercy of the store keeper.

When you walk in to one of these stores, there’s not a lot of looking around you can do, since there’s not much to look.  You basically sit down, and start drinking.  What to drink though?  Obviously, you have no idea as the customer.  You only know they sell tieguanyin, for example…. which begs the dreaded question

“What price range of tea do you want to try?”

This, ladies and gentlemen, is a killer question.  You can see the obvious problems in this one, I think.  You are basically telling them how much you’re willing to pay.  It doesn’t actually mean anything when it comes to what tea they give you.  I think these are stores that are more likely to test you to see if you know what you’re doing, and whether or not you’re easy to scam.

So, say, you say “I want to try teas that are 600RMB/jin” where jin is 500g, then… you’re going to get what they show you as the 600 RMB tea.  Most likely, it’s going to come out of a bag/box that looks just like any other.  For all you know, it’s the 50RMB/jin tea.

This is where taste comes in.  While I don’t think of myself as well versed in any of these teas in necessarily the same way as a younger puerh, I do think I know enough to tell between a good and bad one.  Building one’s tongue to try these things out is important.  Drinking the teas in direct competition with each other, with the same setup (two gaiwans, two cups) and the same amount of leaves/water is also important.  Very quickly, one learns to distinguish between a good and a bad tea.

Of course, it’s one thing to know between a good and a bad tea, and it’s another thing to know whether the bad tea is a 500RMB tea or a 50RMB tea.  That, unfortunately, takes time.

One usually not buy the first thing they try, not only because of the abovementioned problem, but also because it is a good idea to try out the teas of that shop before committing to buying.  Usually it’s good form to at least give two or three a try, more if you’re in the mood.

Since prices are stated early on, it takes one thing out of the equation, although, now comes the bargaining.  Almost all of these teas are bargainable.  The marked/quoted price is never the real price.  You can get it down to at least half, usually, although some stores abide by a no bargaining policy.  You gotta figure that out… I find tieguanyin stores to have higher markups, whereas Wuyi stores seem to be closer to their real prices.  I suspect that has to do with market demand, and since this is mostly observed in Beijing, and since Beijingers tend to drink more light fired tieguanyins… that might explain the “extra” they put in their prices.

I usually buy small amounts first, and come back for more next time.  That’s one thing about these shops though… since none of the teas are labeled, you need to go back to the same store to find the exact same tea.

There are pitfalls to these shops too.  I’ve heard stories of how one store actually only has two or three kinds of teas.  They put them in different bags, and whichever price you ask for, there’s a corresponding bag… but only with the same two or three teas.  If you’re imaginative about it, you can see how that can work….

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Things that happen when you walk into a puerh store

May 21, 2007 · 4 Comments

This is going to be a two part installment, because the modus operandi between a puerh and a non-puerh store work somewhat differently.  The standard procedure when I walk into a puerh store goes something like this.

I enter (usually after I spotted something interesting on the shelves — usually a cake).  I walk in, beeline for the cake that seems interesting… then the struggle begins.  They start asking questions or saying things such as…

“This is puerh tea.  Do you like sheng or shu?”

“Are you looking for teas for yourself?  Or to sell?”

“Why don’t you come sit down and try something?”

The first priority for me, usually, is not to sit down — once you’re sitting at that tasting seat, it becomes a lot more involved.  It’s harder to walk out.  It’s also harder to pick the exact tea you want to try, if you haven’t looked at all of them yet.  In any given store there are likely to be at least a dozen cakes on offer, and I usually like to look through all of them (or most of them) to get a good idea of what I’m working with.

Most of these teas are likely to be things I’ve never heard of.  Some stores make the job easier by having the cakes being easily accessible.  Others make it impossible.  Some even shrink-wrap them, so you have to ask to see them.  Or, they only display the fresh-out-of-factory packaging — so you have to ask them to look at the sample.  It’s very annoying when that happens.

Somewhere along the way, the (usually) girl will want to rewrap the cake for you.  I usually insist on wrapping it myself, or at least do it quickly.  While mine’s not perfect, it’s not too bad, and like I said, it’s one of those things you can do to gain instant respect.  Doesn’t work in every place, but it’s worked often enough.

When I first got to Beijing, I think I was much more indecisive and often let the store keep give me cakes to try.  Nowadays I have a much better idea of what might make a good tea and what I might like, and am thus much less likely to be driven by them.  I also walk out more often before I get to the tasting stage.  Since time is limited and the sort of puerh one can try is unlimited (essentially), one must choose.

So… you’ve chosen a cake, you sit down, they brew it… then what?

I usually drink as they brew, but sometimes I direct them a little in how to brew

“Brew it a little longer please”

Because sometimes they don’t really know what they’re doing, or they don’t do it in a way that you might do it yourself…

This is pretty easy going.  You make small talk.  Sometimes they ask for impressions on the tea, and start the hard-selling.  I usually equivocate and say “mmmm” or “it’s ok”.  In fact, I probably say “it’s all right” more often than anything else.

If a tea is no good… one can quickly get them to change to something else.  Sometimes they will push a tea, and depending on the case, I might agree to taste it, or reject the offer.  If nothing else is interesting… after the first tea is exhausted, it’s best to walk out quickly without asking for the price.

If, however, the tea is decent… then comes the second tension point.  Price.  How much is the tea?  There’s a little tension and suspense involved here.  Since almost no store label their tea’s prices (and the ones that do label it… it’s best to ignore the label) asking for the price represents another sort of commitment, however slight.  Sometimes, one’s pleasantly surprised, as in the case of the Yiwu I bought recently.  Sometimes, one’s nastily surprised, as is the case of many, many cakes I have never bought.  Sometimes, the price is in an acceptable, but slightly high range.

For prices that are astronomical… I will usually walk out after saying something like “let me walk around a little” or “I’ll think about it”, but always after drinking a few more infusions of the overpriced tea.  Walking out right away is rather rude (and they do remember you).  It is also a good idea to ask for the name card of the place, as if you’re going to come back.  If the price is right, then it’s just a matter of whether or not you want it badly enough, and how much of it to buy.  If it’s in the bargaining range… then it’s a battle of wits.

I’m not a great bargainer, although now knowing prices of puerh teas in general helps my bargaining.  It’s also a matter of what is acceptable for myself.  Getting 15 or 20% off isn’t too difficult, usually, although that can really depend on the initial quote and the tea in question.  As I’ve noticed more recently, prices quoted to me have gotten lower over time, which also means less room for bargaining.

Even paying can be a bit of a struggle.  Even after you’ve agreed to the price and the amount of tea to buy, it sometimes takes a bit more sitting around, chatting, and maybe even tasting before you go and pay for the tea.  I have a feeling that me being Chinese makes things a little more difficult, actually, because I need to observe common courtesy rules.  Often, I will make up some excuse, such as “I need to go meet somebody” or “dinner time” to bring up the paying thing.  It’s sometimes more awkward when another customer is around, because the shopkeepers might not want them to know how much you paid for the tea.  Since pricing is arbitrary, if I have gotten a low price for a cake, they don’t want others to know.  It’s best to suggest such things when nobody’s around, or when the other customer is busy with other things.

Maybe I can afford to be ruder now, just because I’m leaving China soon, but these people have amazing memories.  For example, one girl from a shop that moved recognized me even though I have not been there for about half a year (and even that time, only briefly).  I didn’t know it was the same store and definitely don’t remember her.  It’s a small place, and so… keeping one’s reputation is important.  Apparently, among some people anyway, I’m known as a picky customer.  I guess I don’t mind that so much.

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Pictures

May 17, 2007 · 4 Comments

Today I present you with three teas:

Oh wait, it’s the same one.

I didn’t even take them under different lighting conditions — I merely photoshopped them.

Which one’s the “unedited” one?

You can see how different they look… and I’ve noticed that even in natural sunlight, the colour can be off.  It’s a very annoying thing with digital cameras, I suppose.  The lighting is never quite right.  If the white balance of the camera is off when the picture is taken, then you might have really distorted colours.  When buying on the internet… colour changes can really change your perception of a cake.  It’s not like anybody even has to try to fix the pictures — without actively trying to doctor them, it can still come out being different from the real deal.

Unfortunately, that’s one of the risks of buying online.  When I try to show my cakes, I try to make it so that the colour isn’t too far off from what I see with my naked (well, glasses enhanced) eyes, but it’s never quite 100%…

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Yiwu, Yiwu, Yiwu

May 16, 2007 · 5 Comments

I had dinner with a friend and his wife today.  Between library’s closing and dinner, however, there was a two hour gap.  What to do?

Ah, there is a tea store near the place where we were meeting that I’ve gone to once to look at (but not taste) some cakes.  That was a few months ago.  Maybe I can go again and get some free tea out of them to cure my budding tea headache.  The cakes also looked nice too.

So I went there.  I think it’s a pretty upscale tea store, with a second floor that serves as a teahouse for people to drink tea there.  The cakes I looked at last time were some Yiwu pressed by themselves, supposedly, although some cakes obviously had the neifei ripped out of the cakes.  That, to me, indicates that somebody is being dishonest and selling something at an inflated price without wanting you to know where they got it from.  That’s usually the only reason why you’d do such a thing.  I didn’t feel like pointing it out, but I’m sure they have an elaborate reason, anywhere from “oh, the neifeis were mistakenly put in because they mixed up the two batches” to “we had agreed to sell these cakes to another tea house, using their neifei, but they reneged on the order”.  Whatever it is… it’s just a story.

The ripped out neifei is in special contrast with the neifeis for their 07 cakes, which are definitely their own and deeply embedded in the cake.  Why the contrast?  Even more suspect.

But anyway, when I saw the 07 cakes, I decided I want to give them a taste.  I haven’t really tried many new cakes yet, this year’s production being very slow and new teas are still not arriving on the markets in bulk (many are only getting to Kunming now, I heard).  Prices being astronomical, it also gives me less incentive to try new stuff.  But I figured… what the hell.

I asked to try the Yiwu Zhengshan.  There were four new 07 cakes on the shelf.  One is called Yiwu Zhengshan.  The other three are Mahei, Luoshuidong, and Daqishu, three smaller sub-areas of Yiwu.  The Yiwu Zhengshan is 600 RMB, Mahei is 1800, and the other two are similarly high priced (1000+).  1800 is something like… 250 USD.  Extremely high for one 357g cake, considering that maocha this year in this region costs something around 500 RMB/kg, max.  Divide it up to 357g, it means a raw cost of…. 180 RMB.  Add in overhead, rent, labour, transportation… 400 RMB would already net them a reasonable profit.  600 a good one, and 1800….. an exorbitant one.  Their 05 and 06 teas are even more expensive, with 05 Yiwus being something like 3000 a cake.  Considering that is almost two months’ salary for a storekeep… it’s quite crazy.

Anyway, so I tried the “cheapest” tea there.  It looks quite good, actually, small buds, hairy, robust.  The tea is good, tastes nice, with depth and qi, and a nice huigan.  Can’t complain too much other than tasting a little green and a little rougher on the tongue than I’d expect from a buddy spring tea.  Definitely an old tree as advertised.  Is it worth 600?  No way.

Meanwhile, I think I have impressed the owner with enough of my knowledge of Yiwu area that she thinks I’m some sort of expert.  When I’m in a tea store, I don’t mind masquerading as an expert as you get better treatment, instant discount, and nicer teas.  One of the things you can do to pretend to be an expert is actually very simple — just being able to rewrap a cake nicely gains instant credit.  When they see you can rewrap a cake beautifully, with no extra paper sticking out and no wrinkles on the front (oftentimes better than they can rewrap it themselves) then they will automatically respect you.  Try it next time you’re in a teastore — make sure you insist on rewrapping it yourself and proceed to do it right away.

Anyway… what I was getting at was that the owner wanted me to try the Mahei.  I said it’s ok, but she insisted.  Sure… I’m not going to pass up the change to drink this rather exorbitantly priced tea.  I know I won’t buy it even if it’s really good.  It’s simply too expensive for what it is.

The Mahei definitely has energy, and is also definitely old tree.  It is, however, also definitely overpriced.  In my opinion, it’s not even as good as the 600 kuai one, since it gave out quite quickly into a rather bland tea.  I’m not exactly sure why… but I’ve always found Mahei to be a bit weak, and this one’s no exception.  I have a feeling that Mahei teas, on their own, don’t do so well in aging.  I could be wrong, but I’ve had 2-3 years old Mahei tea stored in Guangzhou that didn’t impress me.  This one definitely didn’t impress me.

They tried to hardsell me, asking me which one I want and how amazing they are.  I equivocated, and eventually fled the scene.  I think I need to walk around the corner next time instead of right in front of their store.

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