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.

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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.

The invisible energy around us

The subtle energy and air of the human body – how does one measure it?  Does it even exist?  If so, how do we make use of it?

I know that this debate continues both within the tea community and beyond.  Qi manipulation is a part of the body of Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM).  Last year, a Qigong doctor traced my leg pain to a misaligned disc in my back that months of treatment by various doctors and chiropractors could not identify.  One’s ability to sense and manipulate qi depends on many factors, and each person’s baseline ability seems to vary. 

Each individual’s experience with qi also differs.  In several issues of “The Art of Tea” magazine, there were reviews of pu’er tea where several tea masters were asked to independently taste and rate each tea.  Their sensations of each tea’s qi were quite different from each other.  The qi doctor told me that the sensation of qi is generally the same, but each person has a unique interpretation of it.  The ability to reliably identify the feeling of qi from other biological and environmental phenomena requires experience and training.

How does the breath of life affect our tea experiences?  I believe that tea can be a complete sensory experience.  Just as a delicious meal may activate multiple senses and provide complete satisfaction, so too can a beautiful tea.  It will delight us with its aroma and flavor, and make us feel complete with its lingering energy.  But how exactly are we able to differentiate between the tea’s energy and our own?  How do we know that what makes us feel happy and complete is the complete energetic nature of the tea and not our own minds providing a response for us?

Really, we don’t.  The feeling of qi and unseen energies are subjective and cannot yet be accurately measured by scientific equipment.  Several years ago, for example, my sister had a Feng Shui/Qigong consultant walk through her house.  The master came upon a piece of “antiqued” furniture and said that the energy from it was off the charts; it was holding unstable energy in it that had been absorbed through generations of ownership.  The consultant said that the energy of living organisms is absorbed into all of the things around us, such as furniture (and presumably teaware).   My sister revealed to her that the new piece was antiqued, not an antique, and was made to look old for decorative reasons.  The Feng Shui consultant, whose dowsing rod had been twirling like a weathervane in the middle of a storm, put her instrument back into her satchel of doo-dads and walked into another room as if nothing had happened.  That experience proved to be a load of hot air rather than a demonstration of qi energy.

I believe that qi exists and I believe that there is energy all around and within us.  It can contribute to our unique experience and enjoyment of many things, including our tea sessions.