Archives for posts with tag: Oolong

I don’t know how many of the readers here know that I own and operate a (very) small tea company called Scholar’s Tea.

This is the first business I’ve ever started / ran, and I’ve made a lot of different mistakes during the year and a half that I’ve been making a go of it. Many of these mistakes were costly to me personally, and as of this writing I’ve spent more money than I’ve made running the business. While this has, at times, been discouraging I can say that it has been a valuable experience which has resulted in my learning a ton of things I did not know.

Up until today I’ve never “pimped” my own tea on this blog, because I wanted to keep the blog independent of my business interests. However, today I’m going to break from that policy because I want to reach out to the readers of this blog and make them aware of something I consider to be a damn good tea, which I happen to also have for sale.

The tea is an aged Dan Cong oolong. It’s expensive, but trust me it is totally worth it!

However, because I like all of you folks who read this blog I’m going to give you a coupon code you can use if you decide to buy tea from my company.

The code is LRC88, and it will save 15%.

Type the code in during the last part of the check out process.

Also, shipping if free if the cost of the order is over $30.00.

Here are some images of the leaf & Liquor:

Untitled

Today when I woke up I had a hankering for some Rou Gui, a darker oolong “rock tea” from the Wuyi Mountains which I happen to have paired with one of my Yixings. It has been months since I last worked with this (or any) Yixing teapots, and as I worked with it I started to become more aware of how different it felt to prepare tea in Yixing clay. Below is a short description of what I noticed…

~Reverence~

For whatever reason, I tend to treat Yixing clay with a sort of reverence I don’t have for other brewing vessels. I think this is because of the time that I’ve spent cultivating the Yixings, and pairing them with the particular teas that I enjoy. This process has changed the Yixing teapot into something more valuable to me. I say this because I know that I could replace a broken gaiwan or glass teapot. And while I could do my best to recreate my Rou Gui Yixing, it would take LOTS of brewing: even then, it would never really be the same.

In short: the time that I’ve put into pairing my Yixing is time that I can’t get back, so if the Yixing is broken it will make me feel as thought I’ve lost a personal treasure.

Untitled

~Potencancy~

Keep in mind that the teas that I brew in Yixing are darker, and what I’d call “heavier” teas, than the lighter greens and whites I tend to drink more often during the summer…

The Yixing teapots create a much “fuller” cup of tea. When I say this I mean that the tea has more body to it, but also that it has more depth and breadth of flavor. My Rui Gui pot is one of my more used pots, so it has a great deal of brewings which have contributed to its ability to make a damn fine cup of tea. But I’m a firm believer that when it comes to oolongs, and I mean any oolong, nothing can beat a well used Yixing teapot.

I think this might be one of the main reasons that so many tea masters use Yixing as their number one draft pick when it comes to brewing oolongs.

Untitled

~Building~

Each time I brew tea I gain some experiential knowledge. Seriously. Every time. But when I brew tea in one of my Yixing teapots I also feel as though I’m adding onto what has been built by all the use prior. Again, this is something that is very unique to Yixings, and I happen to think it’s really cool!

~In the End~ 

If you work with Yixing (I’m willing to bet) that you know what I’m talking about in this post.  If you don’t use Yixing often, I think it would be very worth it to invest some money and time into one of your own.

Untitled

IMG_0557
Waikato Zealong:

I stayed up very late last night, and so I slept very lat this morning.  As I slept I had a dream about making tea for people.  I don’t remember very much of that dream now, because it faded as dreams tend to, as soon as I woke up.  Nonetheless, as soon as I woke up I wanted to drink tea.

The tea that I choose to drink something from the Adagio Masters Collection, a very dark Zealong (oolong tea from New Zealand) called Waikato.  The description on the box reads…

The moderate climate of New Zealand and its unspoiled, lush green hills have proven to provide ideal growing conditions for tea, in particular oolong.  Roasted at high temps, this Zealong oolong yields a smooth, complex cup.

The first infusion of our Masters Waikato Zealong is quietly toasty, with whispers of citrus fruit and floral notes — perhaps honeysuckle.  The second infusion is a bit softer with buttery notes and honey-floral character.  But don’t stop there — these leaves are cultivated to produce numerous infusions, each to be admired for its nuances.

IMG_0561
How I brewed: 

I brewed the tea in a Gung Fu Cha style, using a Yixing teapot that I have paired with Zealong teas.  (I think they are so good that they get their own Yixing.)

  1. I used about six and a half grams of tea, which is almost double the amount suggested for “normal” brewing.
  2. The water temp was about 180-190.
  3. After warming the teapot and cup I added the leaves, and gave them a 15 second wash.
  4. First infusion was 45 seconds (with pouring).
  5. Second infusion was 1 min (also with pouring).
  6. Third infusion was 1 min.
  7. Fourth infusion was 1:10.
  8. After that I just added more time, but I did not really keep track… it was whatever “felt right” then pour.
  9. The tea did last for nine total infusions.  I think I could have been able to push a bit more out of it with long infusions, and a higher water temp, but I stopped at this point.

IMG_0565
My Impressions: 

I disagree with the description that Adagio wrote for the tea.  This may be because I did not prepare the tea in the way which I prefer to prepare it, rather than the ways which I assume are the “norm” for Adagio’s customers.

Be that as it may, I found the tea is extremely enjoyable!

The first infusion was very weak, probably because of the short infusion time, and because the teapot was packed with tightly rolled leaves which were not “woken up” all the way.  I did not taste any citrus at all, but I did experience a slight sweetness in the echo the tea left in my mouth.  This sweetness faded quickly, so I was not able to place exactly what it was.

The second and third infusions were remarkably good.  They were strong (which, like my fellow tea blogger Brandon, is what I like).  I could taste the darkness of the roasting, but despite this the tea retained a very smooth and pleasant, mouth feel.

These second and third infusions were done when the water temp had dropped to about 180, and I think this is the ideal water temp for this tea… I think it could be brewed as low as 170 but no lower than that.

IMG_0564

In the end:

This is a tea, but I really enjoy it.  Chances are that when I run out I’ll buy some more.

If you’re interested in trying some Zealong another great place to buy (and learn about it) it is the Chicago Tea Garden.

~ Intro ~

It is not uncommon for people to go to a reputable tea shop, or to a tea store’s website, and see Dà Hóng Páo () for sale.  However, chances are that even though the tea that you’re being sold might be some very good tea, it’s not “real” Dà Hóng Páo.

In an attempt to prevent people from being misinformed about what they are drinking, I’ve written the post below. However, before you start to read it, I need to be clear about something.

What I have written is based on what I know about tea, and I don’t know everything.  If you see something that you disagree with please don’t hesitate to leave a comment or to contact me directly and let me know.  If I’ve made any mistakes in the post, I want to be made aware of them so that I can correct them, and learn from the experience.

~ So what is “real” Dà Hóng Páo?~

Let’s start with the myth of Dà Hóng Páo…

Legend tells of a time when someone who was of great importance to the Ming Emperor fell very ill.  In most cases, the ill person is the Emperor’s mother, but not always.  As a result of their close relationship to the Emperor, the sick individual received the very best medical care that was available at the time.  However, in spite of this lavish medical care, the illness did not abate.

As word of both the illness and the doctors’ inability to cure it spread throughout the land,  some monks who lived in the Wuyi mountains of Fujian heard of the situation.  These monks took pity on the patient and brought a very rare and special tea to help ease the illness. This particular tea had been harvested from wild tea bushes that grew directly out of the rock of the mountain.

When the ill person drank this tea, their sickness vanished.  The Emperor was overjoyed and ordered that magnificent red robes be brought to cover the tea bushes. In Chinese culture, the color red symbolizes luck, long life, and vitality.  However, whether these robes were for protection, honor, or both has never been made clear to me. Ever after their cloaking in crimson, this particular type of tea has been known as Dà Hóng Páo, which translates into large red robe in mandarin Chinese.

What makes this story interesting is while some of it is made of pure myth, many people believe that the four of the Dà Hóng Páo bushes from this legend are still alive today in the Wuyi mountains.  Tea which is harvested from these four bushes is referred to as “real” Dà Hóng Páo.

Needless to say, this “real” Dà Hóng Páo is very rare.  Nowadays, this rare tea is only offered to VIPs who have the good fortune to be presented with it by the Chinese government.  I’ve heard that in 2002, 2/3 of an ounce was sold for $23,000 USD.

A  funny modern “myth” comes from President Nixon’s visit to China in 1972. Upon his arrival, Nixon was given fifty grams of 100% real Dà Hóng Páo as a gift.  Rather than seeing this as the high honor, Nixon was reported to have been somewhat insulted by the “small” gift, and his staff needed to explain to the President how generous the gift really was [source].

~ What is “real” Dà Hóng Páo? ~

  1. Tea that was harvested from one of the four original Dà Hóng Páo bushes.
  2. Grows out of rock in the Wuyi mountains.
  3. This tea will cost a ridiculous sum of money.
  4. Chances are that unless you are a VIP visiting China or a important person in China, you’re not going to be drinking 100% “real” Dà Hóng Páo.

~ If it’s not Dà Hóng Páo what is it? ~

Calling tea Dà Hóng Páo has become a marketing tool to sell tea to people who don’t know any better.  Chances are, tea that is called Dà Hóng Páo and sold outside of China today is one of two things…

  • Tea that was harvested from a genetic clone of one of the original four Dà Hóng Páo bushes.

People have taken clippings from the original Dà Hóng Páo bushes and used them to make genetic clones of said bushes.  However, it is important to keep in mind that even though these clones are genetically identical to the original bushes, they are being grown in different locations.  This means the environmental conditions that these clones are growing in can be very different than the environmental conditions that the original bushes are growing in.  This can be explained by looking at a grape vine from France. Even though the vine has it’s origins in France, calling its product a”French wine” after it has been cloned and grown in California soil and conditions, would be quite disingenuous.

The correct name for this kind of tea is Xiao Hong Pao, which means Small Red Robe.

I’ve been lucky enough to try some Xiao Hong Pao, and I thought that it was very good.

The Xiao Hong Pao that I sampled was harvested from a tea bush that is grown very close to the geographic location of the original four Dà Hóng Páo bushes.

In my mind, Xiao Hong Pao tea that comes from the same area as the original Dà Hóng Páo is closer to being “real” Dà Hóng Páo, because these tea plants are going to be drinking the same ground / rain water, getting the same light, breathing the same air, and growing in the same soil as the four original Dà Hóng Páo bushes.

As I’m sure you can imagine, while Xiao Hong Pao is not as costly as true Dà Hóng Páo, it is still very expensive.

I’ve also heard Xiao Hong Pao be referred to as simply Hong Pao, which means “red robe” in mandarin Chinese.

~ So if it’s not “real” Dà Hóng Páo, is it bad? ~

No. There is lots of “fake” Dà Hóng Páo out there which is still really good tea.

You’ll notice that I keep using quotation marks around words like “real” and “fake” throughout this post.  That’s because in the end, I don’t really think the difference matters that much to the vast majority of tea drinkers here in the West.  My rule is that if I like something, I don’t really care what they call it, or if it’s “real” or “fake”.

So if you have something that is labeled as Dà Hóng Páo, and you like it, keep enjoying it!  Just don’t make the mistake of going around telling people that it is tea grown from one of those original four bushes that are over 300 years old in the Wuyi mountains.

Lao Ren Gorman enjoying some "fake" Da hung Pao

And if you want to show off a bit,  the next time you’re offered some Dà Hóng Páo, smile and ask the person if what they are offering is really from one of those four original bushes which were honored by the Emperor of China and see what they say.

Cha gaiwan lid + oolong

~ This Evening ~

As I was winding down my day, I decided I wanted some Ti Kuan Yin.  I loaded a very generous amount of the dry tea into my favorite gaiwan, boiled some water, and went about preparing the tea.

After washing the leaves, I performed my first infusion.  As time went by, I felt myself relaxing into the comfort that preparing tea brings me.  And then it happened.

I picked up the gaiwan, and poured the hot tea into a narrow cup without having any of the hot liquor burn my hand and without spilling a single drop.

I’m sure to most people this would not seem like anything note worthy, but to me it is.

~ Why? ~

The first time I tried to make tea in a gaiwan, I burned myself and broke the gaiwan I was using.  Basically, the first time I attempted to use a gaiwan was a complete and total disaster.  Seriously.  I sucked at making tea in a gaiwan!  And I don’t mean I kind of sucked, I mean I really sucked.

Of course, after that failed first attempt, I was frustrated.  Really frustrated, in fact.  So frustrated, that I bought another gaiwan, watched lots of YouTube videos showing people doing gongfu cha, and scoured the internet for information on how to properly handle gaiwans.

Another side effect of my first failed attempt with a gaiwan was that whenever I made tea I was filled with self doubt, and I tried to compensate for this by over-thinking everything little thing I did.  I obsessed over water temperature, the amount of leaves I was using, steep times, and pours.  As I’m sure you can imagine, the tea that I made when I was in negative state of mind was not very good.

Over time, it became apparent that I was approaching tea the same way that I use to approach math homework, which is to say I realized that I was being an idiot.  With the help of Mei, Dan, and some other more experienced people in the tea community, I learned to approach tea as something that was fun, in the same way that kids approach new games.  I mellowed out, and started to -literally- play with tea.  I would screw around with different water temps, and steep times.  I would use crazy amounts of leaves in my gaiwan or Yixing teapot…

This is when tea stopped being something I was interested in, and became something that I loved.

~ Which Brings Me to Today ~

Today I can use a gaiwan with out looking like a total fool.

Learning to make tea has helped me not take myself oh–so-seriously, and as a result I feel more relaxed, more confident, and much more happy.

~ End Notes ~

  • If / when you screw up using a gaiwan don’t worry about it.
  • Frustration is normal when you’re learning, but if you keep at it you will find your own tea mojo.
  • Remember: tea is something that you should have fun with.

Sencha again

Busy day at work,

everyone moving so fast.

I sip my oolong.

High Mt. Oolong tea

It is winter, and as I come home after working late, I find that I am sick of the cold.  When I come into my small kitchen I take up my tea making tools, and start to smell my selection of oolongs.  I find one that smells like what I want. without looking at the label I prepare it.

Several infusions later the combination of fire, water, tea leaf, and my very limited skills have helped me shed the yoke of the day.  I unfold myself feeling warm and full again.

The green tea leafs in my gaiwan  remind me that winter does come to an end.  I think about all the people who’s efforts combined to bring me this tea.

The farmers, the tea buyers, those who moved it from point A to point B, the person who put the tea on a shelf in a store, and many more.

I smile, and say a small thank you which I know they will not hear.

I go to bed feeling better.

Today was a long day.  When I got home all I wanted to do was drink a good oolong tea, with some complex flavor, and read a good book.

The tea I chose was pouchong, a tea from Taiwan.  The book I choose was Rashōmon (羅生門) -and 17 Other Stories by Ryūnosuke Akutagawa (芥川 龍之介), from Japan.

The sweet smell and the taste of the pouchong made me think of the sea air I use to enjoy as a child playing on the beaches of Cape Cod Mass.

The stories in the book helped me to clear my mind of the troubles of the day.

Book from Japan, Tea from Taiwan

 

~Formosa Oolong & Yixing~

A few weeks back, I went to the Adagio store in Naperville, Illinois in search of a nice oolong tea that I had not yet tried.  One of the employees (Kristen), who has made many good recommendations to me in the past, told me that she really liked it the “Formosa oolong” or “Oolong #8, which is a  a heavily oxidized (dark) oolong tea from Taiwan.   I gave the tea a smell and thought is smelled mysterious, and I mean that in the best possible sense of that word.  Kristen offered to brew some for me, but I said that I trusted her judgment.

I tend to favor the lightly oxidized oolongs, but seeing as how I was in the mood for something new I thought the darker Formosa would might be exactly what I was looking for.  The fact that the tea was very inexpensive (only $5.00 for a 2 oz. bag) made it very easy for me to justify the purchase.

Formosa Oolong

When I got home, I attempted to brew the tea in a Yixing teapot that I reserve for the darker oolongs.  The resulting brew was very flat, which was not at all what I expected.  At first I thought that the leaves just needed to “wake up”, but the second and third steeping, which are usually the best, had only a hint of oolong flavor, and remained extremely flat.

Needless to say I was disappointed.

I put the Formosa in my tea cupboard thinking that I’d trade it away at some point….

~Time Goes By~

A few weeks went by and Mei and I had a guest stay with us for a few days.  Our guest was interested in tasting many of our loose leaf teas, so I brewed her several different kinds of teas Lao Ren Cha style.  When it came time to try a dark oolong, our guest smelled my (limited) collection of dark oolongs, and picked the Formosa as the tea she wanted to try, based on its lovely scent. I warned her that the earthy perfume of Formosa had drawn me in as well, but when I brewed the tea I had found it lacking.  Nonetheless the guest wanted to give it a shot…

Because all the other teas that our visitor had sampled were brewed in Lao Ren Cha style, in a gaiwan, rather than using Yixing teapots, I brewed the Formosa in the manner as well.

When I took the first sip of the Formosa I expected everyone to be disappointed by a flat tasting liquor.  However, everyone, including me, was very pleasantly surprised by a very warm, full bodied, complex, and flavorful tea.

~The Lessons~

  1. Sometimes the Yixing teapot is not the way to go.
  2. When the Yixing fails, try a gaiwan!
  3. Before writing a tea off, make sure to try brewing it a different way.

I’m very happy I gave the Formosa another chance.  It was a good tea indeed.

Formosa oolong from Adagio

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.