http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/index/ en alnedra.mofi@gmail.com Copyright 2010 2010-03-20T09:09:13+00:00 http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/close_enough/ http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/close_enough/#When:14:09:48Z My time in Thailand is coming to an end and I am running down my stocks of tea, but I have miscalculated how much tea I need and my stocks have run out three weeks too early. I made a trip down to the local supermarket and picked up the most expensive Chinese tea I could find (38baht or US$1.10, for 100g).  It is not wonderful, but it satisfies a craving.  The tea is dark and astringent, the fragrance weak and dusty; but somewhere lingering in the darkness, there is a glimmer of light, a hint of smoke.  It is like visiting the ruins of a great city: if you half close your eyes, you can almost see the glory it must once have been. I never liked Chinese tea as a child.  I found it a bitter, unpleasant drink and never understood why the older Chinese seemed to enjoy it so much.  It was not until 1996, when I first drank Chinese tea at the teahouse in Singapore, that my eyes were opened and I realised what a varied and exhilarating experience it could be.  In 1995, I would never have drunk, much less had a craving for this $1 tea, but in 2008, I am a tea addict and even this pale imitation will do.  This tea tastes truly awful, but it is recognisably a dark oolong tea from Fujian.  In the 18th century, the Indians were mystified by the behaviour of their colonial masters, who shipped bottled peas and sides of bacon many hundreds of miles to India, and seemed to eat them with so much relish.  I cannot imagine that the British were deluded into thinking that the hard, yellow pellets tasted anything like fresh peas, but…it was close enough. Tea, Wulong 2009-02-18T14:09:48+00:00 http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/thai_tea/ http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/thai_tea/#When:09:15:01Z On a recent trip to Bangkok, I came across a small tea outlet which boasted wulong teas grown in Thailand. Intrigued, I looked at their teas. They had a few wulongs, namely Gaoshan and Tiekuanyin, and the usual jasmine green tea, along with a few other varieties. The salesgirl was earnest and helpful but not very experienced in making tea. Her attempt at brewing Tiekuanyin using a Piao-Yi cup was a little off, using water that had been boiling for a fairly long time and letting the tea leaves steep too long. My learned friend 醉茶士 was also there, and swore that the Tiekuanyin smelled strongly of nicotine! I hesitantly agreed, as there was an odd scent to the tea which I couldn’t quite identify. It did have a resemblance to the sweet, musky smell of tobacco, although not as strong or pervasive. I learned to my surprise that the Tiekuanyin was grown in Chiang Rai, as were the other teas, including the Gaoshan. More tea plantations are always good, even if they’re not in China or Taiwan (or given the burgeoning Chinese economy giving rise to very wealthy Chinese on the mainland who can afford to pay top dollar for tea leaves, especially if they are not in China), so I bought a tin of Tiekuanyin. To be honest, I was not expecting very much for the price, which was around 8% of what I usually pay for a top-grade Tiekuanyin. It is a pleasant enough tea, with a good golden colour and fairly recognizable scent. Unfortunately the tea leaves are only good for one, or at most 2 steepings. Nonetheless, it is still better, in terms of taste and fragrance, than the teas available in supermarkets, even though their price range is similar. Should I go to Bangkok again, I will be sure to drop in at that tea outlet again, and perhaps that affable and helpful salesgirl will be better practiced by then. Tea, Wulong 2008-11-13T09:15:01+00:00 http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/chance_encounter/ http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/chance_encounter/#When:14:36:01Z While meeting up with some friends a few evenings ago, we stumbled upon a small stall where an earnest, pleasant-looking man was showing off his tea. He had tiny little packs of tea leaves, just the nice size for one person, using a gaiwan, clay teapot or tongxin bei, being about 7gm in weight. The packs were beautifully made, in several lovely colours, each colour being a differently priced tea. I tried the second-most expensive tea, a very green Tie Kuanyin, which surprised me, because it was from China. China Tie Kuanyin tends to be more robust, more heavily fermented and roasted, and has less of a floral scent. But the flowery fragrance fairly burst from the gaiwan he was using when he lifted the lid. The tea did not taste as strong as the Taiwanese Tie Kuanyin I get from the teahouse, but the scent could easily rival it. It was very reminiscent of the fragrance one gets from lilies and certain orchids, both strong and sweet, slightly musky and just tickles the nose that little bit. He explained that the leaves could easily be used twenty times over, which was quite impressive. The leaves were very green, almost jade-like in their mottling. I bought a couple of small packs for my friends and one pack of the most expensive Kuanyin to try it out myself. The bushes were cultivated at about 1000 feet above sea-level, which explains the thick green leaves and light but sweet taste. I will certainly be popping in on him again soon, to learn more about his tea. Tea, Wulong 2008-06-30T14:36:01+00:00 http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/wenshan_baozhong/ http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/wenshan_baozhong/#When:16:36:00Z Wenshan baozhong (文山包種) is a Taiwanese oolong, and was developed more than 150 years ago by Wang Yicheng (王義程) in imitation of the famous teas of Mount Wuyi (武夷巖) in China. The name comes from a mountain in Taiwan, Mount Wen (文山), and in modern times, encompasses a mountainous area to the South and East of Taipei city that is easily accessible as day trips. Towns associated with Wenshan baozhong include Xindian (新店), Pinglin (坪林), Shenkeng (深坑), Shiding (石碇), Pingxi (平溪) and Xizhi (汐止). In common with the Wuyi teas, Wenshan baozong is traditionally a heavily fermented oolong with loosely rolled leaves. I have had a chance to try this year’s batch of Wenshan baozhong from Ye Tang (冶堂) in Taipei. The tea follows the contemporary Taiwanese move towards lightly fermented versions of traditionally heavily fermented oolongs. The taste is surprisingly fresh. It is green almost like a gaoshan (高山), with a milky flavour like Jinxuan (金萱). The leaves are oily green and whole, but thin and fragile. Unfortunately, the fragrance is weak and the leaves struggle to survive more than two or three infusions. I am sure the reason is the inclement weather that seems to have affected all the tea plantations in Taiwan this spring. Curled dried leaves of Wenshan baozhong (L) compared to the opened wet leaves (R) Some information garnered from Easytravel webpage: http://www.easytravel.com.tw/action/tea/page2.htm Tea, Wulong 2008-06-04T16:36:00+00:00 http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/eye_of_the_beholder/ http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/eye_of_the_beholder/#When:14:32:00Z The latest batch of Dongfang Meiren (东方美人  Beauty of the East) from the teahouse is nothing to shout about, in terms of looks. The name Beauty of the East is a popular one for teas, especially wulongs, in Taiwan. This particular beauty is the house tea of the teahouse I frequent. Usually it is a middling to strongly “fried” tea, meaning it has a more robust and earthy aroma and taste than most Taiwanese wulongs. However, like most Taiwanese wulongs, the tea leaves still bear a verdant coloration, with only a tinge of brown. Unfortunately, due to the unfavourable weather, the latest batch of Dongfang leaves were somewhat lacking in fragrance and sweetness. The tea master who processes the leaves had to fry the leaves for longer to bring out the accustomed level of taste and aroma. Alas, this was to the detriment of the colour. The current Dongfang looks a little like it’s been left on the shelf a mite too long, even though it has just arrived. Nonetheless, it is still an excellent tea. I salute it as I would a soldier who has returned from battle slightly maimed; he may have lost his looks, but retains his integrity. This beauty may not be as green as her predecessors, and the colour of her tea a little too dark for light wulong, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder; many of the teahouse regulars still flock to experience her charms. And what are her charms? The fragrance of Dongfang is slightly earthy, a little musky and quite flowery. The first cup may seem bitter, almost medicinal; but by the third cup, the palette is entirely flush with sweetness, and the fragrance permeates the nose inside and out. Even when steeped till bland, the Dongfang is refreshing, and its coloration does not fade easily. I can easily sit down with one pot of Dongfang and drink for hours, as the taste fades to almost nothing but still imparts something elusive to the tongue. What lingers on the palette after the umpteenth steeping is not really tea, but the seductive hint of tea. Tea, Wulong 2008-05-30T14:32:00+00:00 http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/fragrance_of_flowers/ http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/fragrance_of_flowers/#When:14:12:00Z Tie Kuan Yin is famous for its 官韵 (guān yùn); the phrase is a pun, as “官” in this case refers to a government official (such as a magistrate or governor), and is pronounced the same way as “观”, the middle word in Tie Kuan Yin. “Guān Yùn” superficially refers to the taste and scent of Tie Kuan Yin, which is very distinctive, but at a deeper level refers to the entire experience of drinking Tie Kuan Yin tea. Tie Kuan Yin was, during Imperial China, commonly a tea consumed by the aristocracy and the upper classes. It was, and still is, regarded as a high grade tea, had for a long time been out of the reach of the masses. Nowadays Tie Kuan Yin is a very common tea, served in Chinese restaurants all over the world; but the most expensive tea in the world is still a Tie Kuan Yin (according to the Guinness Book of World Records). The fashion for increasingly green and floral Tie Kuan Yin is one I heartily appreciate, as I love to have very green but strong wulongs. I frequently speak of teas having a floral fragrance, but I realise that this isn’t very helpful. The scents do not evoke any particular flower in particular, and recently a good example struck me. Roses are usually bred to be beautiful or fragrant, but not both. A gardening enthusiast friend told me this was because it wasn’t yet possible to produce roses that excelled in both bloom and fragrance, and commercial growers preferred to concentrate on one or the other. Think back to the last bouquet of roses you received or gave (some of us may have to think a bit further back than others…); I remembered that the scent of roses was quite faint, and in some bouquets, non-existent. But there was a strong, sweet, clinging perfume that did not smell specifically of roses. I find a similar effect in lilies. Walk into a florist’s shop and that fragrance assails your nose. That is the fragrance I encounter with the top grade Tie Kuan Yins from Taiwan. A good Tie Kuan Yin, as befitting its title as King of Teas, dominates all your senses as you experience the tea. From the moment I open the tin, through the preparation of the tea, until I pour it into my cup, that heady scent lingers, and it sweetens the tea as I drink it. And at the bottom of my cup, through the green-gold liquid, I can see the minuscule bits of leaves, brilliantly verdant, like flecks of jade. Tea, Wulong, Tea Related 2008-04-28T14:12:00+00:00 http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/last_of_the_lishan_tea/ http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/last_of_the_lishan_tea/#When:14:22:00Z [Miss Neddy was unwell last week and has fallen behind on her updating. She humbly begs the forgiveness of her gentle reader(s)] I recently made the last of the Lishan (梨山 or Pear Mountain) tea that I had bought from my trip to Taiwan late last year. The individual leaves are curled up into tight but still very big lumps, and despite being more than 4 months old, are still very green. Even under close inspection, one would be hard put to see that this is a wulong tea, as there is little or no oxidation on the leaves. As it is a very light wulong with a delicate scent, I have used my Phoenix teapot to steep the tea. The original tea I used for the Phoenix teapot was called 翠峰灵芽 (Cuì Fēng Líng Yá or Wonderous Buds from Jade Peaks), which is a very green wulong by Tenren. Alas, it is not available every year, as they have very high standards for this tea and if conditions are not optimal, they may harvest very little or even none for that year. Moreover, the tea is only made once a year, during Spring. One last consideration is price. The tea, if a batch does make its way to Singapore, can be quite expensive, and although i quite like it, I am able to get a rather good Tie Kuan Yin, or Gaoshan for the same price. This means that opportunities to steep tea in my Phoenix teapot comes few and far between, as both Tie Kuan Yin and Gaoshan have very distinctive flavours that I don’t wish to mix into the teapot. Perhaps I will buy a teapot eventually just for Tie Kuan Yin…. Back to the Lishan tea. Tea from Lishan is well-known to be light, the colour of the tea pale gold, and has a refreshing and delicate floral or sometimes fruity fragrance. Not that the tea tastes of pears, though, even though the mountain itself is named after the fruit. The aftertaste is faintly sweet and slightly astringent, as if after a quick tooth-brushing. I love Lishan tea after a meal, especially a very savoury or oily one, as it gives my palate a very clean feeling. This particular tea was grown 2000 to 2500 feet above sea level, so the leaves are thick, very green and the tea made is very pale for a wulong but still quite strong in fragrance and taste. The last batch endured about 7 steepings before the flavour faded noticeably, although previously, when it was newer, I was able to get more than 10 steepings per pot. Tea, Wulong 2008-04-21T14:22:00+00:00 http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/a_cup_of_tie_kuan_yin/ http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/a_cup_of_tie_kuan_yin/#When:15:57:00Z As the taste of Tie Kuan Yin is very distinctive, even overpowering, I don’t as yet have a dedicated zisha teapot for it. So, usually I would use a porcelain gaiwan to make the tea. An averaged-sized gaiwan (just comfortable enough to fit into most palms) will require just around 5 grams (or a tablespoon’s worth) of tea leaves: Fill with water, but not to the brim. If you do, you will find that putting the lid on will make the water overflow, making it difficult to hold on to the gaiwan when you need to pour. It is best to fill up to just before the brim begins to curve outwards, or even slightly below that. When pouring, use one finger to tilt the lid of the gaiwan just slightly, while the remaining fingers hold the brim of the gaiwan firmly. Tilt the entire gaiwan over your cup or sharing cup, being careful to keep the flow of tea away from your fingers. I find it easiest to use the index finger to hold on to the lid, so that there is a considerable gap between my thumb and middle finger where I can tilt the gaiwan. This part is the hardest to do right, especially if your gaiwan is made of very thin porcelain and heat travels rapidly from the tea to the gaiwan to your fingers. You can see that the tea leaves, after one or two infusions, expand very quickly to three or four times its original volume: It’s a very dramatic example of why you need a lot of space in your teapots, tea cups or sieves to allow wulong tea leaves to expand properly. If they can’t expand, the flavour and scent cannot be adequately released.  Tea, Wulong, Tea Related 2008-04-11T15:57:00+00:00 http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/bak_kut_teh/ http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/bak_kut_teh/#When:15:57:00Z A popular dish in Singapore is Bak Kut Teh (肉骨茶), literally “Bone Meat Tea”. No worries, the tea is not made from meat and bones. Meaty pork bones are combined with several spices such as pepper, star anise and cloves to create a slight spicy, yet refreshing soup. There are some variations on the recipe, usually divided between “white” and “black”. White bak kut teh is more Teochew in style, being lighter in colour but much more peppery; black bak kut teh is usually either Hokkien or Cantonese in style, the former using more soya sauce and sweeter herbs such as danggui (当归) to create a darker soup, the latter using more herbs to create a more varied flavour. For those who like pork, bak kut teh is a pleasure. The accompanying dishes are usually pork related as well, such as pig’s trotters in dark soya sauce, stewed pork ribs and possibly pork offal (usually stewed to tenderness in a dark soya sauce based stew). Preserved vegetables and deep-fried tofu are common accompaniments as well. So where is the “Teh” in bak kut teh? Teochew, Hokkien and Cantonese people are great tea drinkers, and almost always, bak kut teh stalls will provide a portable cooking hob with a kettle of hot water, and also a small tea set for gongfu tea (工夫茶). Gongfu in Chinese means “skill”, and while mostly associated with the martial arts, it can be used to apply to anything that requires great skill to accomplish well - such as making tea. Tea to go with bak kut teh is usually dark and smoky - just as light white wines are unlikely to stimulate the tastebuds if the meal is strong-tasting beef or salmon, lighter teas cannot compete with spicy, possibly overpowering taste of the broth from bak kut teh. Add in dishes such as pickled salted vegetables, and pig trotters that have been simmered in litres of dark soya sauce, star anise, ginger and cinammon, teas such as Gaoshan and Longjing have no chance. Tie Kuanyin (the robust varieties from the Wuyi mountains in China, not the light, almost green varieties from Taiwan) is a popular choice for bak kut teh, and so are Teochew teas such as Bu Zhi Xiang (不知香), so named because the fragrance of the tea is entirely unlike anything else - it cannot be said to be a floral, smokey, fruity, or herbal scent. The tea leaves usually come packed in convenient doses, wrapped in small paper packages. The tea Bao Zhong (包种) was originally wrapped in paper in this way, hence its name which means “wrapped”. The paper, unwrapped, also makes a convenient funnel to pour the leaves into the earthernware teapot. The strong earthy teas help to refresh the palate after all the spicy, oily, fatty food, and it is believed that the tea will help digest the copious amounts of fat and oils eaten in the meal. Tea, Wulong, Tea Related 2008-03-10T15:57:00+00:00 http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/ephemera/ http://www.leavesofjade.com/index.php/tea_blog/ephemera/#When:00:41:01Z Good tea has vintages in the same way that French wine does.  The flavour of the tea varies every year according to the rainfall and sunshine.  While the tea from one plantation will always have the same basic character, each harvest is unique: some years will be sweeter, other years will be more bitter; some years the scent of cinnamon will be stronger, other years the tea will be smokier; some years the leaf will be lighter, other years heavier.  Each harvest is a unique individual, never to be replicated. The autumn just gone produced some of the best High Mountain tea Gāoshān chá 高山茶 I have ever tasted.  Miss Neddy gifted me around 80g worth and this morning, I poured out the last few fragments of the precious leaf into my tea cup .  As I poured in the water, the light floral fragrance filled the room and I sipped the last cup of that tea that I will ever taste.  Come the spring, I will buy myself another tin of High Mountain tea, but I know that it will be different and is unlikely to be as good as the one I have just finished. There is no value in keeping oolong tea or green tea.  The flavours do not mature; instead the fragrance dissipates, the colours darken, and you are left with nothing but a dark insipid fluid to fill your tea cup.  Tea cannot be put into a cellar to be stored; there is no benefit in laying down crates of tea as one does with wine; and so nature enforces a strange kind of democracy, because there is no point buying more leaves than you can reasonably consume yourself before the tea grows too old to drink.  If you are fortunate enough to find a good tea, then enjoy it quickly while it is still young, carpe diem! For next year there will be only memories. Tea, Wulong, Tea Related 2008-01-28T00:41:01+00:00