Still Drinking Tea

It's been a while. Here's a picture of some pretty Bairuixiang yancha leaves, a sample from an LA tea friend.

China Cha Dao Shi Ru "AAA+"

The remaining three samples from China Cha Dao carry the grade "AAA+", including this Shi Ru ("rock milk"? Some have suggested "stalactite", but that's rushi (乳石) not shiru (石乳)). These kinds of grades, I'm finding, have either or both of the following psychological effects: it biases the drinker to think the tea is better or it really raises expectations. Will I be biased that this tea will meet my raised expectations?
The tea smells like passionfruit with vegetal green oolong smell and some roasted aroma, very balanced. The taste likewise sits in balance: fruitiness, vegetal, a little roast, ending oily and fragrant in the mouth. Over the infusions, the fruitiness and vegetal flavors take center stage, and the roast stands in the background. It reminds me of what good mainland China Tie Guan Yin used to taste like before it went "nuclear green": halfway between wuyi's thick roasted savory flavors and dancong's thinner fruitiness.


Unlike the other rock teas in the sampler, the Shi Ru has no sourness.

It tastes very well oxidized, and as the brews went on and on, I wondered if this is not a yancha at all, but instead a well roasted dancong! But then, it finishes mineral and thick like a wuyi, and the steaming leavees smell more like wuyi than dancong.


11g in 100ml held up very well to gongfu brewing: the tea lasted upwards of 16 infusions with punchy, very sweet flavor, a difficult task for most oolongs.

So far, this is the best of the bunch, more fragrant and interesting than the Shui Xian at slighly higher a price. I enjoyed being reminded of what Tie Guan Yin was like before contemporary Chinese tastes and modernized production gutted its flavor, but people who like the heavier roasted, savory flavors of wuyi might find this too oxidized/fruity and not roasted enough for their tastes.

China Cha Dao Da Hong Pao

The least expensive of the teas from the China Cha Dao sample pack at $23/500g and the only one without a listed grade, the leaves of the gradeless Da Hong Pao are broken/short and dark. It smells very heavily roasted, even when dry.

I used all 11g in my gaiwan, again "Brazil nutting" to put the bigger leaves on top.



To my delight, the brewed tea only a little sour, and although heavily roasted, the roasted flavor never crosses into the "tastes like charcoal" territory. While some interesting floral notes appear in the taste in the 3rd and 4th infusions, and the aftertaste is decent, the tea is monotone.

Eventually, in later steepings the "cheap restaurant oolong" flavor emerges, a sort of "unnatural" sweetness: not artificial, but out of place. It's not strong enough to be awful, but it distracts from the nicer flavors when brewed too quickly. To its credit, although it needs real pushing after the 5th infusion, it does hold up to many long infusions.



At the price, one could buy much worse, for certain. At an "everyday tea" price, it's an everyday tea. After brewing it gongfu, I wonder if using less leaf and longer steeps would be a better way to brew this particular tea.

China Cha Dao Shui Xian Grade AA+

Jerry of China Cha Dao offered a free Wuyi oolong sample pack on Steepster recently, and always on the lookout for good yancha, I joined in.

I decided to start with the most generic and widely available varietal of this tea, Shui Xian. Shui Xian is highly variable in quality and characteristics, a trait it shares with its more illustrious brother Da Hong Pao. A suspicion bites at me whenever I see Shui Xian and Da Hong Pao that a particular store takes its least interesting yancha of any varietal and renames it Shui Xian, and takes its best tasting and thickest yancha of any varietal and names it Da Hong Pao. But I digress.

Jerry's Shui Xian carries the grade "AA+" which I interpret to mean "not just your average Shui Xian". I brewed it "gongfu style" using the entire 11g sample in my 100ml-but-functionally-90ml gaiwan and did very quick infusions to start.

The leaves above are long but not uniformly colored, meaning the tea is likely a blend of two roasts or oxidations--or more. I let them rest after their long journey from China, and they became more fragrant as they came to adore the dry, mild California climate, like any good tourist.



The brew has mild fruit flavor and a punchy sourness in the first brew. The sourness becomes less prominent from the second infusion onward, which offers cinnamon notes and has a longer aftertaste. Throughout most infusions, the tea tastes a bit bitter on the front tongue. Third infusion tastes more balanced--less roast, more florals, with an even longer aftertaste that is really pleasant.

The Shui Xian offers a smooth mouthfeel and a slightly cooling sensation after I swallow. There is a sweet smell under the lid of my gaiwan; in fact, the aroma is more interesting under my gaiwan than the taste of the tea. This average complexity puzzles me, because clearly something (grain? candy? malt?) wants to be in the cup, and perhaps my brewing is to blame.

It lasted a good 10 infusions.

One nice feature about roasted oolongs is that they improve with 6 months or more of resting after the roast, and if this tea is from this year, that means its roasty aromas and flavors of this 2011 tea may calm into something even nicer by the middle of fall, which is perfect weather for roasted teas.

$51/500g is a good price for a Shui Xian I would call an A+ tea. I think AA+ sounds over-the-top, but I suppose not knowing how these are rated means I should respect their hyperbole in classification.

LA Tea Affair 2nd Anniversary Event

(Photo: Will)

LA Tea Affair events have been some of the most fun tea drinking I have experienced since coming back from Asia. Those of you within driving distance of Los Angeles do not know what you are missing if you haven't come to an LA Tea Affair event yet.


(Photos: Tom)

A few weeks ago we celebrated our 2nd anniversary with an outdoor tea at the California Institute of Technology, drinking tea from 1:30 p.m. until past sundown. The recent rains cleared up for the day, and we enjoyed tea, cheese, honey, fresh air and good company.


Jason with honey. Dan unimpressed. (Photo: Will)

Pu'er and oolong were on the menu:

• 2007 Spring Yiwu Cha Wang of Chen Guang He Tang, Hou De Asian Art
• 2007 Spring Fèng Huáng Dòng Dǐng (凤凰冻顶) (Classic Roast), Teamasters
• 2008 Ròuguì (肉桂) of Lin Ping Xiang, Cloudwalker Teas
• 2008 Sòng Zhǒng Dān Cóng（宋种单丛), Tea Habitat
• Early 1970s Qī Zǐ Xiǎo Huáng Yìn (七子小黄印), Hou De Asian Art
• 70s Thick-papered Měnghǎi (勐海) #7542 (sheng pu'er), Hou De Asian Art

The spread...

The spring yiwu was thick and impressive. The Dong Ding was hearty and chocolatey (well priced, too). The Rou Gui had strong qi and fruity oxidation. The Song Zhong I really liked, even though Imen, proprietress of Tea Habitat, said it usually comes out better; it was dankly floral like too many roses, and when we drank it, we all shut up.


Yay tea! (Photo: Will)

We saved the oldest for last and switched to two 1970s pu'er. By the second tea, it was already dark, and I had to wear a headlamp to brew the tea. That's dedication! Somehow, someone (not me) had planned for this.


Tea dork (Photo: Imen)

The two 70s pu'ers pushed us into tea drunkenness, and the last one still had some strength left when we had to leave for dinner, so we brought the wet leaves with us and had the restaurant brew them for us.

We ate at a Sichuan restaurant so authentic the front door could have been a portal to China. Fresh Sichuan peppercorn numbed us, pickled peppers burned us, and many napkins later we left with full bellies and ready for some dessert. We slurped black rice and fruit concoctions at a Hong Kong style dessert place known for serving frog fallopian tubes and birds nest mixed into their treats.

Rou Gui and misc thoughts on yan cha

Yan cha é mobile, qual piuma al vento

I brewed this rou gui as naturally as I could, via second nature rather than contrived monitoring of process. Although I try to brew every tea this way, I have limited success with yan cha. Of all teas, yan cha and dan cong pose a challenge to me as tea brewer, whether attempting to brew them naturally or otherwise.

They change with the weather. The humidity rises or drops 5%, and they change character. They demand of me!

Brewing pu'er always came to me naturally, like when I learned Spanish, but brewing yan cha is like learning classical Latin. Whereas slowly, I became more conversant in Spanish until it fell out of my mouth and spoke itself in my thoughts, and slowly I refined my pu'er brewing until I felt that I could carry any conversation with that tea, I stumble to decline and conjugate my yan cha. I've tried both the Occidental scientific approach with scales and timers, but spent more time cultivating a meta-sensibility about brewing the tea. In both cases, my efforts regularly came up short.


Traditional Rou Gui, Dry Leaves in Qing Dynasty Saucer

Occasionally, I managed to decant a good infusion--rarer yet, complete a good session!--of yan cha. The problem I encounter: leaves yield good flavors too lightly or dump out unsavory flavors too strongly. I seek to find the middle. Yan cha is my current personal challenge. Those who know it well have offered me some very useful guidance about how to approach the tea: don't use standard amounts of leaf, use more, and stop when the pot is fragrant with dry leaf. Their insight has helped, but not enough--yet.

Don't get me started on dan cong. I suspect that dan cong is the last boss in my tea journey.


Traditional Rou Gui, First Infusion in Ming Guo cup and Late Qing Saucer
Next to My Pretty Pretty Pot.

This rou gui started so well: pumpkin spice flavors with a buttered toast finish, luxurious scent, just a hint of florals. The wet leaves smelled plummy. It got sweeter, florals got stronger, but the pumpkin spice--the cinnamon of this "cinnamon" oolong--disappeared. Still pleasant and lingering, the middle was gone. High notes of florals and a deep bass of grain, but no middle. Hui gan alkaline and mouth-watering. Good qi, but progressively flatter and flatter in flavor, until by infusions 5 and 6, the tea struck only high notes and nearly died, castrato.


Emerald Leaves Red with Oxidation. Pretty!

I blame myself. I have read good reviews of this tea by people who know Wuyi tea more intimately than me. I have enough leaves left for one more brewing of this tea, two in my smallest gaiwan.

Any tips?