A Tea Addict's Journal

Entries tagged as ‘travel’

A tea walk

November 24, 2007 · 3 Comments

I decided to go for a walk today, since the weather is finally nice (albeit briefly) after many many days of rain and almost-rain (which is I think partly why the cake started growing mould). So, where to go? I went to the Chongqing N. Rd area, where the old shops are. I’ve only explored a small area of that street, so I decided to walk the other way and come down from the north.

There are indeed lots of teashops on the way, many of which look like old wholesale stores. Some scenes from the street


I visited three stores. The first is a more touristy/retail oriented one. I drank an aged oolong that’s more fired than aged, but it was pretty interesting, especially the strong tangerine peel notes in the aftertaste. There isn’t much else of interest there though, and I wanted to keep walking…

I passed by a few stores that pretty much ignored me — the man might be watching TV, or busy doing something else. I just poked around. Then I passed by this store that looked newish, with puerh and stuff and not at all like all the other places I walked by today…. so I went in. My, the guy was rude. He didn’t look too happy to start out with, and then asked “so what do you drink? sheng or shu?”. This is a pretty typical question to ask a new customer in a puerh shop. I said I drink pretty much only sheng. Then came the response, “oh, these days it’s pretty hard to afford to drink sheng”. It was said in a way that actually meant “it’s pretty hard for people like you to afford sheng”. Needless to say, I walked out of the place right away. I don’t mind stores that ignore me or whatever — it’s almost charming, but I’m not about to walk into a store that actually insults its customers. And this wasn’t even one of those charming old stores. This place is for “rich” people who can afford their teas (which were for the most part standard issue 80s or 90s teas… nothing spectacular)

Anyway, I left with a sour taste, but quickly forgot when I was further ignored at another store that was obviously some Grand Old Shop that does wholesale. One kilo of jasmine for $2 USD, anyone?

I ended up walking into a random store. I don’t know why I ended up there instead of the other ones, but I walked in, and first poked around, looking at the (bad) pots they had along the wall. Then I asked the lady if she had some aged oolongs, my standard opening line these days. She did (they all do, no matter what). I saw it, asked around…. and then saw there were cans that said “Wuyi Shuixian”. So I asked if they had shuixian…. of course she does, and then she proceeded to open some of these cans. Interestingly enough, the ones she opened said “puerh” on them. In fact, the cans are basically unlabeled — the names on the cans have no relation to what’s actually in them, but she remembers exactly what’s in which. I ended up buying a bit of aged qizhong, and some aged tieguanyin. I also got some shuixian from the 80s.

Now I only need to try my new acquisitions….

Categories: Old Xanga posts
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Maokong trip

November 18, 2007 · 4 Comments

I went to Maokong today. Maokong is a hill near Taipei. I went there two years ago when I last visited, and I remember you had to switch from subway to a minibus to go up the hill. Between then and now though, they built the new Maokong Gondola. So now, instead of having to ride the very bumpy bus ride up to Maokong from Muzha station, you can just ride the cable car up to the mountain in 20 minutes. Very nice.

There are definitely more people there now, although today was rainy so the crowds probably aren’t nearly as bad as, say, a sunny day. There are lots of farms up there that a visitor can go see and brew tea at. It’s almost impossible to choose which one.

My girlfriend and I went to this Wutie place that I first heard about through RFTD a while ago. The place….. does microwaved tea. Sounds crazy? Yeah…

We ended up just having “Wutie” oolong. This is an Alishan oolong that they somehow concoted with a high fermentation and high roasting. The result is…. interesting. There is a sort of strange fruitiness to the tea beyond the usual roasted Taiwan oolong taste. I don’t know how to describe it other than the aroma of the roasted tea hits the nose very strongly. My grilfriend said bark dust/woody, I said old tangerine peels…. I’m not sure what it is, but whatever it is, it’s a very interesting aroma.

This is the setup they provided. It’s quite decent.

I didn’t get to try the microwaved teas, but I did see them

They’re big balls (1kg or more) of oolongs that were somehow rolled together and then somehow microwaved and then somehow kept in this shape. Very, very hard. I don’t know how they put it together, or how they peel it apart, or how it doesn’t rot. The “master” wasn’t there today, so I couldn’t ask. I wonder if it’s worth going back to figure it out.

But it’s a good place to drink some tea and just relax. We certainly had a great time.

Categories: Old Xanga posts
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Will travel for tea

November 3, 2007 · 3 Comments

I went to see Aaron Fisher today again at Miaoli. I don’t think I’ll ever go to Miaoli if I didn’t know anybody there. It’s a small town halfway down to Taichung, and it doesn’t have a lot to offer. But hey, if there’s another tea head there, I’ll go.

Especially if said tea head brews up a nice roasted Taiwan oolong (sweet, mellow, nice aftertaste), followed by a late 70s/early 80s dry stored Xiaguan iron cake (it’s fun when the stuff still taste kinda young when it’s closing in on 30, with a mix of aged and young characteristics — proof that iron cakes can probably benefit from wetter storage), then on to the Blue Label (very nice), and then finishing with a 1930s Liu An (BBB, I see why you love this stuff). Thank you, Aaron. They were all great.

Meanwhile we talked about things tea related, and I also watched him cleaning an old pot he just got using some Japanese pot-cleaning stuff, which he gave me a few packs of to clean my pots. Time to experiment.

I didn’t sleep well last night, and so my tea endurance was a little lower than usual, but it was a good day drinking tea. He also sent me off with a bunch of samples — more on those later 🙂

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A tea shopping trip…. and a contest

October 20, 2007 · 6 Comments

Today’s entry is going to be a little long… but it’ll include a little contest, so read on 🙂

It was a nice day in Taipei today. The weather’s gotten a bit cooler, with drier air blowing in from the north. I figured I haven’t gone tea shopping for quite a while, and it’s time to explore some more.

Instead of going to the posh and nice Yongkang area, I went a section of old Taipei where it’s said there are a number of older tea stores. I only have the address of one, the Youji. I should note here that “X-ji” is a typical way of naming a store back in the day. It’s function is sort of like the English usage of the “‘s” in “xxxx’s”. So…. lots of these older stores have names like this. The Hong Kong tea store, “Ying Kee”, is actually “Yingji” in pinyin. There are other famous establishments in Hong Kong that also have such names.

Anyway, that was a digression. I got off the subway at Shuanglian station and started walking towards Chongqing N. Rd, where, I’m told, some of these older stores are. I passed by a store that sells both incense and puerh — an odd combo, seeing the incense will probably infect every cake they sell. It consisted of mostly cooked cakes, fake Dayi, and wet stored stuff of questionable provenance. I passed, and kept walking. I eventually ended up near the Youji store, and in front of it, there’s a park

But this isn’t an ordinary park, because it tells you about how Taiwanese tea is made!

It has educational routes you can walk along this park that measures something like 40m by 15m

With relief carvings set in the ground of the processes in question

It’s kinda cute.

On one side of the park is the store for Youji

It actually says “Wang Youji Chahang”, but it seems like they just refer to themselves as Youji. The building is actually quite big. The front end of the ground floor is a store — you can sort of see from the picture above that it is somewhat renovated and newish looking (more pictures on their rather weird website). The back half though is their factory — where they process the teas. They do their own roasting, packaging, and what not. Business is obviously not as good as way back in the heyday of Taiwanese tea export, in their case perhaps dating back to the pre-1945 colonial period, but nonetheless… business goes on.

I tried two teas there — an aged baozhong that is a bit sour, and a roasted tieguanyin that is quite reasonable. I liked them both, although the aged baozhong needs to be finished relatively quickly or it can get too sour. I think it’s time they re-roast that one again.

After trying the teas though, I asked for a tour of the premises, which they apparently do. So…. through the door in the middle of the building and into the back we went.

The first thing you see when you walk through the door is this

These are the templates they used for the boxes that they packed the tea in — you paint over them so the words are painted onto the boxes. These are various brand names, from the “Tea Pot Brand” to the “Mitomo Kabushikigaisha” (Three Friends Corporation, bottom right, probably dating from the colonial period). Then, there are a bunch of machines — used for sorting, drying, etc, but nothing too exciting, and none were in action today. The more interesting stuff is the roasting room.

I’ve seen these individually before, but not in a room like this and certainly not this many at once. Since I think many tea makers these days are using electric roasters (I’m guessing they’re more consistent, less room for error, and probably more economical), this is going to be an increasingly rare sight. These pits are like this

They fill them with big pieces of charcoal

Then they ground them down

Using these tools (specifically the right-most long stick)

Then you cover the pit with what he said are something like burned grain husk

When these burn down, they become the powder you see on the left of the picture. This covers the fire so that you are not directly burning the tea. I always knew you cover the charcoal with a dust like thing. I always thought that’s used charcoal that’s disintegrated into powder. This grain husk thing is new to me.

Then…. you roast the tea for hours….

You can also see other things going on, like in the picture of the tools — look on the left, and you see a guy picking leaves. He’s sorting the tea, presumably readying it for sale, or roasting, I’m not sure. I had a good conversation with the guy, who is running the family business. He said it’s really hard these days to find young people who want to do this, especially the roasting part. It’s just not pleasant work (high temperature, having to deal with charcoal, leaves, etc) and nobody is interested. Why do it when you can sell non-roasted tea for the same price, or even more? They insist on it, and even lightly roast their baozhongs, but that doesn’t always happen anymore. I can’t agree more — this is something that, I think, needs to be preserved because I personally feel a lot of these teas can’t be drunk without ill effects for one’s health without some roasting. (Sidenote: this is also why I don’t drink a lot of the really green Taiwan oolong these days, in answer to Julian’s question a week ago)

I picked up a little tea, and plan to be back here for more. I walked out, and wandered around a little more. I couldn’t find more tea shops… they are hidden somehow. Some of the stores are closed. This part of Taipei is no longer important, economically — the center of action has moved eastward, leaving this area behind. There are some older stores here, definitely, but they are only dealing with locals, and not the big exporters they once were. So it is somewhat fitting that there were some antique shops around here that look rather run down. One, though, sells some teapots…. so I went in for a look. He had about 20 of them on display, which was all he had. They were of various levels of authenticity and craftsmanship. One, though, caught my eye, and I eventually came home with it.

It pours well, the lid is well fitted, the patina is very nice and it felt good enough for me to buy it despite its funny smell inside. I tried brewing some of the cheap aged oolongs in it to get rid of the smell, and it seemed to have worked. I’m going to let it sit around some more and see if the odd smell comes back (probably because of where it was stored for a while). We’ll see what happens.

>
Which gets us to the contest part:

In trying to make this blog a little more interactive (I have a, relatively speaking, very quiet set of readers), let’s play The Price is Right. Submit your guesses to me via email regarding how much this teapot cost me. The person who comes closest (either high or low is fine, in deviation of the rules of the gameshow) will get samples of all the aged oolongs I tasted the last week, good and bad. If there’s a tie (say, one person guessed 1.1 and the other 0.9) the lower one wins.

Please submit guesses to (my username) at gmail. Please quote the prices in Taiwan Dollars (currently about 32 NTD for 1 USD). I am going to announce the answer on the 23rd when I blog. You have lots of time to ponder 🙂

Categories: Objects · Old Xanga posts
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Potheads

October 2, 2007 · 6 Comments

It’s an interesting thing going to a store that focuses on its pots, rather than its tea. Yesterday there was a crowd of potheads gathered around the table with the owner sitting there, casually brewing some aged oolongs in a big well made pot that I’m sure is a few thousand dollars, at least. The discussion (to the extent that I could understand when they spoke in mandarin — most of the conversation was in Taiwanese, which is hopelessly difficult) was all about pots. Who made what, which one’s nice, if it’s a real one, how much, look at that nice clay, the good calligraphy, etc etc

Connoisseur pots are, of course, not quite the same as our everyday stuff. For one, they’re big, usually around 500cc, which is only really usable when you have a bunch of people. A 300cc one is already too small, and the stuff we usually use — around 100cc, is not for them at all (although some do like to play with a few of these as an aside). These people are often not too knowledgable about tea. One man thought the aged oolong we were drinking was a puerh at first (it should be immediately obvious). They tell me they just drink tea, but they really, really love their pots. They get custom made brocade boxes for them that are shaped just for the pot, so that it is safe. They take them out, carefully wipe them, put them back, take pictures…. you name it.

And they are expensive. The few nice ones that were being passed around yesterday were ten or twenty thousand USD, per pot. Even the “cheap” ones are a few thousand dollars. There are ones that are even nicer, but those, I gather, are rarely taken out for show. They hide them in the house.

One of the guys who were there, a man in his late 50s, I think, said he’s been collecting pots for a few decades now. I’m sure he’s got a nice collection, as you can tell everybody in the group respects him. He then tells me something which I find a bit startling — he can’t tell a fake from a real, at least for the “masters” pots which he generally collects. “Masters” (mingjia) pots are the ones that are made by living or recently dead pot masters, and are not usually antique. This stuff has a high rate of fakes, and when a guy who’s got a lot of experience playing with this stuff doesn’t know for sure if something is real or fake, there’s something wrong.

The owner of the store said that for them (the dealers) it is possible to get a sense of whether something is real or fake, but even they cannot be 100% sure and sometimes have to hunt down connections to find proof. They know, generally, because they’re the ones who sees the most out of anybody in the pot-food-chain. The makers don’t really know each other’s works. The buyer/collector only knows what they are told by the dealers. The dealers see both sides, and see each other too (as they trade stuff). So, a pot from Master X might have certain characteristics…. this they know.

But then, you have fakes. Fakes are really good these days. Fakes are also a parallel industry, apparently. Pot makers in Yixing have specialities — this guy specializes in fake antiques, that one fakes Master X’s pot really well, and this woman fakes Master Y’s to perfection. These people have good skills, obviously, and sometimes even better than the so called masters. But… they’re not famous. They can’t sell pots for thousands of dollars, not until they’re famous anyway, which is never a sure thing even if you have talent. If they fake somebody else’s though, they can.

So unless you have a dealer who you can absolutely trust and whose knowledge is impeccable… finding a real pot (antique OR masters) can be a real challenge, especially when starting out. The owner of the store says her customers don’t have to pay tuition, because all her stuff are real. While there’s always a bit of advertisment in these proclaimations, I do think the stuff I’ve seen there are better than most. Maybe I can learn a few things from these people…. from simple issues like how they season pots to clay quality to everything else. Here’s hoping, anyway. Meanwhile… I’ll just drink my tea using my inferior teapots.

Categories: Information · Objects · Old Xanga posts
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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.

Categories: Misc · Old Xanga posts
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Tea spirit… in practice

September 1, 2007 · 3 Comments

In a recent entry Hobbes has talked about the fact that some tea companions are better than others, and speculated as to the reasons why that is so. Today I had an interesting experience that made me think of this very topic.

I went back to the Yongkang area, since I haven’t really explored a lot of it yet, and there are places that were on Corax’s list of places that I haven’t visited. Why not? It’s a saturday when stores are still open (many shops close on Sundays in Taiwan) and the library is not open today.

I was tasked by a friend to look for some aged baozhongs specifically, so with that in mind, I went and hunted.

The first place I stopped at was Yetang, a secluded little place tucked into a back lane in the Yongkang area, completely unmarked, and impossible to find unless you knew the exact address. The place was a little dark, tastefully decorated, and very calming. You do feel like you’ve walked into a sort of urban sancturary, with the cups lining the wall and the dim lighting giving the place a warm glow. It just rained heavily, and I was soaked (even with an umbrella), so it was nice to walk into the place.

It was empty. There was only the proprietor and who I presume is his partner. I asked for an aged baozhong, and he said they ran out, but they have two other aged oolongs, a dongding and a shanlinxi. The dongding, he said, tastes more like the aged baozhong he had, so he’ll make that for me first. Sure, why not? I walked around the place (it’s not a store — at least it in no way feels or looks like a store, at all). There are some interesting teas there, but not a lot of it. I think most of the things he sells are hidden, only offered when you ask, or when he knows you better. The stuff on display are, I think, more likely to be stuff for the tourists who throng Yongkang.

The tea brewing area is a little medicine cabinet looking thing, and the chairs are on another side of the … space. He put down the cup for me on a table, and went back to his tea brewing cabinet. I think he was trying to let me drink in peace, although coming by myself, it was odd that way.

The tea itself is very nice. It feels like a dongding in the mouth, but tastes very aged with that unique sweetness and aroma that only aged oolongs will have. It has a long finish, and is a little numbing on the tongue. Very pleasant. Good qi. I really liked it.

I, however, slowly moved to the little work table that they had that was right next to the tea brewing area, because I needed to talk to somebody. It felt increasingly strange sitting there sipping the tea by myself while they did their own things around the cabinet. We chatted a bit, and I asked him to brew me the shanlinxi for comparison. It was much lighter, not too aged tasting, even though it’s only 3 years younger than the dongding. It’s mostly because of the storage condition — the shanlinxi was stored in a very well sealed container, while the dongding was not. Makes sense.

At this point, two tourists came in and walked around, tried a tea, and left. And then… some regulars started trickling in. I could feel more of them coming, so before more of them came, I bowed out, with a box of the dongding in hand. I felt awkward in that place, charming though it is physically.

Then I went to my second stop — Huiliu, barely 20 meters away from Yetang. Huiliu looks and feels a lot more commercial. I was at first mistaken as yet another Japanese tourist and was greeted with a friendly “o-cha desu ka?” (which is not really a correct way to ask this question… but no matter). I asked for an aged baozhong, which their new website (I was told it’s not entirely functional yet… they don’t know if payment and stuff works, and it’s a work in progress) advertises as being available. I was then told by the server (the place is more of a sit-down-and-drink-tea-with-friends-over-some-snack kind of place) that I have to wait for the owner to come back to try it, because they don’t know where that tea is stored exactly. While waiting, they kept me amused with this

A bowl of dongding oolong. It’s somewhat roasted. It’s new. It’s decent, and quite sweet when brewed this way.

The owner came back, a somewhat middle aged woman who looks very kind. She said no problem, let’s try it… and started rummaging through various things to find her aged baozhong.

As she was making the tea, a woman came by who the owner obviously knows… turns out she’s the person helping them to write the webpage. We started having a nice discussion of web buying practices, her upcoming travels (to SE Asia) and the like, and the owner chimed in… and I think that broke the ice. It was a sharp contrast from Yetang… where things were so quiet it was a little unsettling. I think it is partly a matter of personality, but also a matter of just the compatability of the people involved, the topics that come up, and the way the interaction has proceeded. We drank quite a few infusions of the aged baozhong, which tastes actually rather similar to the dongding, but a bit more aged and a little less powerful (all aged oolongs, if aged properly, start tasting broadly similar, IMHO). It was a good conversation.

While the web-developer left, I tried another tea that they had — a “medicine tea”, as the owner called it, made by a man who now no longer makes tea (he’s in his 90s). This was the last batch, 2006 stuff. It looks sort of like a baihao and sort of like a baozhong, but lighter in colour. It’s hard to figure out what it is, but looking at the leaves, it doesn’t look very high grade.

When she brewed it… the taste is very similar to some green teas I’ve had. It has reminders of biluochun in it, but not quite. It’s very sweet, and mellow in the mouth. It’s a bit rough. But what is very interesting about the tea is the qi. It hits you very, very hard. I normally can feel a tea’s qi, but the reaction on me is usually mild. This one, however, started making my heart pump right away, and I could feel it creeping up my back and it forced me to sit up more properly. I was a little light headed — but not in a bad way. It was probably the closest I’ve been to getting a high from anything.

Ok… confessions aside, it’s a tea with very good qi 🙂

We drank some infusions of this, while still chatting about tea and what not. I left the place with a few small bags of the baozhong, but also feeling like I made a friend in the place. I think, reflecting on it, that’s what was different about the two places. Even though Yetang is very non-commercial looking, I felt like I was treated as another tourist-customer who was just in and out. Perhaps the owner is naturally more reserved, and if I go back a few more times he will open up more. Then there is Huiliu, facing Yongkang park and very touristy, which is usually not a great thing, but somehow, it felt much more hospitable and welcoming. Maybe you’ll be writing it off as a matter of the quality of the teas, but really, the teas at both places were quite decent. I think it was more of a matter of a match in personality and expectations… and somehow, it just clicked better at Huiliu.

Both places, however, are worth repeat visits, as I haven’t tried all the stuff they’ve hidden away yet, so I’m quite sure I’ll go back to both in the not-too-distant future.

Categories: Old Xanga posts · Teas
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Flying

August 12, 2007 · 2 Comments

Flying is such a chore.  Flying is also where you’re guaranteed bad tea, most likely.  Whereas these days branded coffee is making its way into the planes, and at major airports it seems like getting a good cup of java is never a real problem, finding good tea in an airport or a plane is considerably harder.

United, for example, offers Chinese restaurant tea as their “Chinese tea” on their service to Greater China.  What that means is that it’s tea powder…. with that strange taste one only finds in those kind of tea.  I honestly have no idea what type of tea is used to make that powder stuff… and how to explain those bubbles that never pop.  Anybody who’s been to a Chinese restaurant in the US will know what I’m talking about.  If you don’t…. good, because it’s nasty.

I’ve generally resorted to making tea on my own on the plane.  Using their sub-boiling water though, one shouldn’t use a leaf that requires too much heat or too much finness.  I find that young puerh, especially of the maocha variety, works particularly well on a plane.  A few leaves, and you’ve got yourself a cup of very pleasant, sweet, and gentle tea.  Since the water is not really hot enough, it’s almost impossible to overbrew the tea and so it will never really get bitter.  Indian teas also work, for obvious reasons.  I’ve tried brewing tieguanyin on a plane, with not-so-good results.  The leaves didn’t really unfurl, and throughout the cup tasted weak and watery.  Not a good idea.  I haven’t tried brewing Wuyi using plane water yet.  I should probably experiment.

Today I flew Cathay Pacific back to Hong Kong, where I’ll be for a few days to pick up my stuff and to settle my tea from Beijing into a more permanent home.  On the plane they served up a slightly weak, but still pretty reasonable (all things considered) cup of slightly roasted Southern Fujian oolong or something like that.  It’s a little too weak to tell for sure what it is, but it’s pleasant enough.  Flying into Hong Kong is, of course, quite nice.  Aside from being home, it’s also the most efficient airport I’ve been to.  Gate-to-door time was one hour and five minutes, including immigration control, baggage claim, custom, ground transportation … there’s no place like home 🙂

Categories: Misc · Old Xanga posts
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Chunshui Tang

August 11, 2007 · Leave a Comment

This

is what I had for tea today.

No, it’s not some amber ale. It’s an iced tea from Chunshui Tang, where I went with an old friend for an afternoon drink. Chunshui Tang is most famous for being the original bubble tea place — that sugary sweet drink that is quite popular. I find it rather too sweet for my taste, so I opted for a “charcoal roasted oolong” with no sugar or ice. I wanted to see what they use as tea before adding anything to it.

Hardly any charcoal roasted flavour, and worst of all, a bit on the sour side. Who am I kidding? This stuff is meant for adding stuff with, not drinking on its own.

It’s also incredibly large (I should’ve ordered a small). I drank about half and the caffeine really hit… no more, my body says.

It was nice though, and the head — it stayed throughout the whole session without budging. I’m not sure exactly how they do it. I think they shake the tea vigorously to get the foam, but I don’t know how it stays on there — it’s sort of like the head of a stout, which doesn’t really go away no matter what you do. It’s an odd thing, really.

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Live from Japan

August 7, 2007 · 4 Comments

Here I am, sitting in Narita waiting for my connection to Taiwan. After having sat through a 13 ride from Chicago (itself a good hour from Columbus, plus transfer), I now have another hour before my flight leaves and I can have the pleasure of sitting through another 4 hours to get to Taipei. Fun.

We did actually see a little scenery on the way today, contrary to most such trips which can be just… boring

After getting here in Narita, the first order of business was to get a little ramen, which was nice enough. Nothing like a little warm soup plus some noodles to fix your belly. Then I decided to get some tea… some bottled Japanese green.

Made by, guess what, Coca Cola company.

No, it’s not sweetened. It’s 100% Japanese tea, as it advertises, with no natural or artificial flavours either. Just tea and water (and vitamin C — they always add a little of that). It also advertises that it uses some specially farmed tea, although it is really more just like “uses balanced soil and healthy inputs…” kind of advertisement. Besides, there’s only 10% of the leaves that uses this method. The other stuff… is probably just junk green tea.

Most of these bottled green teas taste quite nutty and I honestly can’t tell between one or the other, unless it’s got “flavourings” in them, in which case they taste odd and is noticeable right away. I suppose the fact that they advertise they use 100% Japanese green tea means that when a bottle doesn’t say so, it uses green tea from other places, most likely China. Even something form Shizuoka is probably too nice for such bottled tea. I can’t imagine it using other than the lowest grade possible, brewed in such a way as to avoid bitterness and getting as muc hof its natural sweetness and flavour as possible. I always wonder how such places look like — do they brew them in big vats? How hot is the water? How long? What happens in these factories?

The sweetened stuff is positively nasty, and unfortunately, in the States that’s pretty much the only ones available. Once in a while you’ll find the Itoen teas that are not sweetened, but only in major cities and usually in some expensive markets. This bottle is 150 yen — about $1.25. Not too bad for a quick fix.

Onward to Taiwan…

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