What tells YOU that a tea is worth buying?

My recent tea inventory led to panic (not enough!), then to a frantic pursuit of more product.  Storing tea for my retirement…it’s not too early to think about the future, especially with green pu’ers that need to mature.

I’m continuously curious about what other tea lovers are buying, wanting to buy, and most importantly, what they’re currently enjoying.  Many tea lovers have particular tastes and search for favorite teas that roughly fit their list of requirements (myself included).  Tea enthusiasts read about what’s popular, try them, and either add to their collection or blast them in their reviews.  My non-scientific “research” shows that review blogs and posts consistently get the highest page views, leading me to assume that buying trends for certain types of tea follow the preferences of the more popular review blogs (not uncommon in any interest group/product) and that many enthusiasts are both trying to learn about new products to acquire as well as to validate their own thoughts about a certain tea.  I rarely review teas, so the fact that I have managed to maintain your attention thus far, dear reader, is something that I am quite grateful for!

I grew up drinking Ten Ren, restaurant tea and various gift teas from Asia.  We had old pu’er at home (until I drank it all) that stayed intact only because no one wanted to drink it for 20+ years; its popularity as something to savor is relatively recent.  I randomly share various samples of my tea – both the rare and the very common – with anyone I sit down to drink tea with wherever I happen to be and I will tell you that no one I’ve had tea with is always right about the particulars of what we’re drinking, nor do people usually agree on all of the flavor notes they taste, the aromas they detect, or their preference for the brew.  Differences in opinion shouldn’t offend most people (though the sometimes heated debates online might seem otherwise), unless, unfortunately, you made the tea.  It can happen with retailers that custom-press their own pu’er, for example.  The staff of just such a retailer told me that it makes them reconsider their profession every time they read or hear about a bad review, though they remind themselves not to take it so personally.  Several years ago, I finished the roast on a summer Dong Ding that I sent to a friend to distribute as “educational” samples from his shop.  My friend emailed me earlier this week and said that one of his customers randomly brought a sample of that tea in (with my label on the vacuum pack!) and said the tea tasted a bit like – no joke – goat’s milk.  Goat’s milk oolong is a rather unique taste identifier that I use, so it was no surprise to learn that my friend’s customer learned about it from this blog.  Sigh…and ouch.

In my most recent quest for tea to buy, I decided to add more “cheap tea;” I need the quantity for long-term storage.  I bought a lot of good value stuff (low price, lots of potential, needs patience), high price/good taste, and then just OK, everyday tea.  With few exceptions among even fewer blogs, I don’t agree with tea reviews online, especially when it comes to oolongs and green pu’er. 

So what makes a tea worth buying?  Good value can be tasty tea that is well-priced.  What is well-priced?  Harder to pin down.  I subordinate pricing to personal preference, so I’m not especially focused on getting good product at the lowest price (though of course, that doesn’t mean I enjoy buying expensive crap).  If the tea is very good and not easy to obtain, I accept that I may have to pay more for it.  There is also a limit to how much time I want to spend searching for and trying samples until I find the right one, though the process itself is fun.  I look for tea specialists that I like, trust, can learn useful info from and consistently have product that I enjoy.  It does require that at some point I explore parts of Asia with a giant bag (to fill with tea samples) and a giant lunch bag (full of snacks to soak up the tea in my stomach) until I find something that suits my needs.  Those initial encounters were the original inspiration for this blog, though there are many older stories that have yet to be told.  For everyday teas, good is good enough and I can drink an affordable oolong (the Four Seasons varietal is cheap in Taiwan and pleasant enough).  But as I find myself having less free time to enjoy a brew, I especially appreciate a session with a solidly good tea for which good-enough won’t do and for which value is not a priority. 

With most of my posts, I sign off by saying drink good tea and enrich your life.  Good is whatever you think is good at the time you enjoy it, and I hope it adds to your life by way of the friendship that comes from sharing a brew, the clarity of mind you may receive from contemplation, or the internal harmony you may experience. 

Drink good tea and enrich your life.

30% or more tea, NO additional cost, ACT NOW!!

Tough economic times have dramatically increased people’s interest in squeezing more out of what they already have.  Use less toothpaste/soap/detergent, lower the thermostat, drink milk past its sell by date….

Get more brews from your tea.  Increase your yield 30%, 50%, 100% or more?  It can be done!

A few years ago, my Dong Ding teacher taught me to triple the number of brews from my tea.  As tea infuses in a pot or gaiwan, it expands, but the bottommost layer has less room to expand, so it releases its flavor relatively slower.

(Pulled straight out of my gaiwan after 9 infusions, the bottom is still more compressed than the top – I’ve got at least 5 more decent brews here)

The trick is not to just pull the brewed leaves out, flip it upside down and stick it back in your pot/gaiwan.  You should take it out, loosen it up, spread it, then stuff it back in.  Full instructions are linked to HERE.

You may have seen some tea retailers or servers use a gaiwan lid to push the steeping leaves around, as if that would help to squeeze more flavor out.  I don’t think this lid-play does anything to add extra infusions.  I’ve watched the tea masters do this so they can see the color of the brew, as an indicator to the “readiness” of the tea.

The dump-out, re-fill method that I’ve outlined seems to yield more infusions for me when I use a pot than when I use a gaiwan.  It works best with rolled oolong and not so well with green tea; moderately-well for pu’er. 

Drink good tea, get more brews, enrich your life for less!  Happy New Year!!

A near-empty tea packet brings back unexpectedly pleasant memories

I finally finished a full inventory of my tea last week.  The result?  Not enough!  It’s been a couple of winters since I’ve been to Asia, so I definitely need to re-stock on my next trip.

Although I have written about a few of the more well-known tea retailers that I’ve visited, there are many more that I have yet to mention.  Hole in the wall places, previously well-known tea makers, beautiful teahouses - the variety is astounding.  I endeavor to visit new places on each of my trips and I make sure to always learn something from each retailer that I go to, and to pay them tuition by way of a purchase.  My inventory includes hundreds of samples from dozens of shops.  Most of them have a memorable back-story, some of which I recount with great pleasure.

______________________________________________

The Central district is the financial and nightlife center of Hong Kong, its “Downtown.”  About 10 years ago, my friends and I would frequent the awesome-value joints there (not common, considering some of the hottest & priciest joints are there).  We’d “treat” ourselves to such delights as a sizzling hot plate steak meal, complete with soup, veggies, rice, a cold drink and dessert, all for $5.  Bellies full, we’d waddle a few blocks up the way to the drinking district and get $.70 happy hour beers, after which, we’d stumble over to some late-night joint for a snack.  Good times.

Years after, I still visit Central every time I’m in Hong Kong, and as my love of tea has deepened, so too has that area become more interesting.  The adjacent districts of Sheung Wan and Western to the west, for example, still have several old tea stores, while some of the snazzier teahouses can be found in the Admiralty and Causeway Bay districts to the east.

The delightful nature of serendipity has guided me to cherished memories time and again, bringing me to the doorway of a none-too-special shopping arcade several years ago.  On my way back to Central from my friend’s place, a sudden and unexpectedly heavy rain shower - common in sub-tropical climates - led me to seek shelter in the foyer of this non-descript building.  As I reached behind me to grab a tissue out of my pack, a sign on the wall pointed up.  On it was a stylized teapot with a clever pun on the word for “bottle,” alluding to a tea vessel.  A warm room and a cup of tea would be excellent for a stupid me that was too thoughtless to carry an umbrella during the rainy season. 

Following the sign, I came upon upon a small store and walked inside.  Tables and shelves were stacked with all manner of teapot.  Many had detailed info placards like the collector sets that my dad had bought in Beijing, but most others just had a simple price label.  Some of the pots were very expensive, and they just sat there on tables and shelves of varying heights, open to being touched and admired.  I dared not touch anything out of fear of breaking something that could cost anywhere between $50 to $7,000+.  I had never seen so many different types of teapots in one place before, the diversity of colors, shapes, textures and sizes was extraordinary. 

The proprietor sat near the entrance of the store with a friend (who turned out to be his “student”), examining a few pots and drinking tea.  Transfixed by the wonders before me, his call brought me back to the present.  “Do you like drinking tea?” he asked.  His student looked up and smiled.  “Come join us, we are having a Tie Guan Yin.”

Just my luck, my favorite tea.  I walked over, looked into the cup before me and saw an amber-colored brew.  “Thanks so much, traditional Guan Yin, just my type.”  I took a sip and found much comfort in the warm brew.  “I am very impressed, you have so many teapots, I never knew of such a store as yours.” 

The owner chuckled with amusement.  A long-time collector of pots, he admitted that he was no tea expert, more of a teapot “geek.”  He found it amusing that a foreign-born Chinese person like me was fond of tea, no less particularly fond of traditional-style Guan Yin.  He mentioned that he sold mediocre tea best suited for everyday drinking and for seasoning teapots with.  He explained that he had pots to suit all six types of tea and that his most expensive pots were priced because of their craftsmanship, history or aesthetics, not necessarily because of their functionality.  I recall that we chatted about his home village, his interest in tea culture and his favorite teas.  His student taught me a few things about the sound of teapots and basic differences in the clays, and we had a nice time drinking some of his brews.  He invited me to return again later in the week, promising to bring an aged tea from home to share with me.  I offered to buy a small bag of oolong from him, but he gave me a sample of it instead and told me to save my money for tea that was more suitable for my tastes.  What a kind man and kindred spirit, I remember thinking.

As I was leaving, I wanted to ask him why his signs weren’t bigger as to attract more customers, but he didn’t seem like the type to really need the sales.  Neither was the store well-suited for foot traffic from window-shopper types.  I don’t know why I didn’t end up visiting that store again, although I did leave Hong Kong less than 48 hours after and I probably just ran out of time.  I remember thinking to myself that he had a great thing going, to be able to share his passion with like-minded collectors without the financial pressures that face most retailers.  Even now, the recollection of the shop and its owner bring me joyful sentiments.

Who knows if my presumed background of this unique storefront and its owner is accurate, but as I held the foil sample bag last week, I couldn’t help but to wonder when I would have my own little space to share my trinkets with that that fate brings my way.

If not for the small sample bag that I uncovered, this experience may have remained a pleasant but dormant one left in the heap of my brain’s “to sort before I die” memories.  Now, it’s been moved to the stack of “found treasure” experiences, with a part 2 that I hope to add in the not-too-distant future.  Maybe he’ll even have a little chunk of nice pu’er in his shop when I visit!

Drink good tea and enrich your life.

Over-roasted tea may not improve with age

When an oolong has been over-roasted, time and patience are necessary for it to have a chance to recover.  Weeks or years may pass before the fire subsides and one can taste the tea base again, but all too often, the fire remains long after the roast.  Some of the aged oolongs that one may come across were once over-roasted teas that have been set aside to rest and recover over the years; they’re sometimes forgotten about.  Some of these teas have been roasted to death and the tea will never recover.

Those searching for a pleasant aged oolong should recognize the difference between an aged tea with potential and one that has been roasted to death.  Irrecoverable over-roasted teas are especially shiny, have a particular taste that can seem nutty/smoky/caramel-like, and fail to open when brewed.  There are several retail and online shops that pass such tea off as premium, aged tea (with the lofty prices to match), but don’t fall for it!

A simple way to understand the differences is through some experimenting.  Ten to 20 grams of a hardy, well-oxidized oolong like a traditional TGY or Wuyi oolong would work nicely.  If you have a mini-roaster, set it to 90+ degrees and intentionally over-roast the tea over several hours until it smells like it may be burnt.  If using an oven, set it to over 200 degrees.  Loosely wrap the tea in foil and leave it in the oven for at least several hours.  This is not enough roasting to kill the tea, but it will be enough for you to taste significant changes to the tea.  You can try it shortly after and note how different the base of the tea is from the pre-roasted version.  Better yet, wait several days or several weeks for the roast to subside and taste the tea again to see what’s changed. 

As usual, buy small quantities to sample before making a bigger purchase.  You may end up with little baggies of junk this way, but that’s way better than big bags of crap!

Oxidation Levels and Flavor Profiles

The process for making oolong involves more steps than other types of tea.  The most important steps for determining the fundamental taste and base of an oolong during its processing are in the oxidation.

Oolong oxidation will produce 4 major categories of flavor/aroma.  From light to heavy oxidation, those categories are:

1)  菜香 (Cai Xiang) - Vegetal, such as Baozhong.
2)  花香 (Hua Xiang) - Floral, such as Alishan high mountain tea.  This category is often further subdivided by the types of floral, such as 蘭貴 (Lan Gui - orchid) or 桂花 (Gui Hua - osmanthus).
3)  果香 (Guo Xiang) - Fruity, such as Dong Ding or Muzha Tieguanyin.  A traditional medium-high oxidized, medium-high roast Muzha TGY may even have notes of ripe fruit, 熟果香 (shu guo xiang).
4)  蜜香 (Mi Xiang) - Honey, such as Oriental Beauty.  A highly-oxidized oolong’s flavor is also said to sometimes resemble 焦糖 (Jiao Tang) or caramel.  I think that tea that has been over-roasted and allowed to rest a while will also infuse tea that is caramel in color and has sweet notes.

Several different leaf varietals are used in the production of Taiwan oolongs, the most prevalent of which is the Qingxin varietal (青心).  Nearly all high mountain oolong is produced with Qingxin leaf.  Dong Ding oolong is also produced with Qingxin, and often with Ruanzhi (軟支, soft stem). 

I greatly prefer medium-oxidation teas to light or high-oxidation ones.  General taste profiles are helpful to me (in addition to other info/experience) when identifying different types of high mountain oolong.  Lishan tends to have a higher-oxidation level than Alishan, for example, and also tends to taste more fruity than floral.  Shanlinxi usually has an oxidation level between Lishan and Alishan and has a uniquely fruity and floral profile. 

Food and Tea…Together

I love Vancouver BC’s Chinese food and its availability of all things Chinese (herbs, snacks, music…).  Vancouver’s Chinese radio station is great as well, especially on Sunday afternoons when they have cool talks on a variety of life and lifestyle topics.

 It’s Fall, time for darker, full-bodied teas like this traditional Dong Ding

A few months ago, the station did a segment on ideas for food and tea pairings, given by a long-time tea drinker who is also a self-trained chef.  I tuned in late and missed a lot of the segment, but he talked a lot about the contrast of flavors.  You don’t want to, he said, pair similar foods with similar teas, just as you wouldn’t eat a sweet dessert after drinking orange juice, which would mute the desserts bounty of flavors.

The guest speaker compared tea pairings to wine pairings, which he has also studied in.  Because of tea’s relatively delicate tastes, he recommends foods that are lighter in flavor.

Some of his recommendations:

-With a sweet dessert, he recommends a smoky and/or bold tea, like a Wuyi Yancha or a Tieguanyin.  Pu’er also works, but doesn’t always highlight the range of a dessert’s flavors.

-For foods that have some tartness, like cheese, he said something like a traditional Phoenix Dancong with strong oxidation and a fruity note would be good.  Per his reasoning, Taiwan’s Oriental Beauty may also be a good choice.

-For a light and dry dessert (e.g. pastries, sponge cake…) he believes that a fresh and “thinner” tea, like a green Longjing or a white Longevity Brow (Shou Mei) would work nicely.

-For an after-dinner digestif, Pu’er is a wonderful choice.  He said something thick and heavy, like an old pu’er or a cooked cake, would work best.

In addition to pairing tea as a beverage with different dishes, there are many blog articles and even a few Chinese cookbooks that have touched upon using tea in cooking.  The trick is to make the tea a star in the dish, not just a supporting character.

Experiment and enjoy the new experiences of paired consumption.