oolong – Perfect Leaves

Wudong Tea: “Dawuye” （大乌叶）

Tea: Dawuye is a a type of fenghuang dancong. In other words, it is a single tree phoenix oolong.

Brewing Method: I debated whether to brew the tea Dawuye in Guangdong style (lots of leaf, with a long steep time) or Wuyi Style (lots of leaf, with unusually short brewing times). I ultimately decided to go with Guangdong style because I wanted to push this tea to the edge.

Dawuye’s leaves were beautiful. They were long, dark and twisted. They were mostly dark green with a few flecks of grass and hay-yellow leaves mixed in. The leaves reminded me of a higher grade Shou Mei (white tea). Before I heated the gaiwan, the leaves smelled like smoked dried plums or waxberry or similar dried fruit. After I heated the gaiwan, the leaves smelled green. I’d compare it to Fukamushi tea of Biluochun. Overall, the leaves smelled grassy and vegetal, a little like asparagus, but not overwhelmingly so. You could also compare the smell to cooked cabbage.

First Steep

For the first brew I steeped the tea for a full minute. Interestingly, the wet leaves smelled like macaroni and cheese and the leaves were even more gorgeous than before. The greens were glistening; they really popped. Dawuye’s tea liquor was very, very golden. Once again, it reminded me of the vibrancy of Japanese green tea. You could also compare the color to certain sheng (raw) puers. The liquor was surprisingly cloudy. There were a lot of particles and dust, even though I used a filter. I’m not sure whether the dust came from the shipping or whether it’s a feature of the tea, but if it’s a flaw I doubt it was the farmer’s fault.The leaves I received were, for the most part, quite long and unbroken.

Despite the beautiful leaves, the vibrant liquor and decent aroma, my first sip of the tea was unpleasant. It tasted like a bad Tieguanyin (Iron Goddess). The tea was extremely bitter with an after taste of baking soda. Though I like the flavor of baking soda, this particular tasting note offended me. I was unhappy drinking the tea, but I decided to take another sip. When I aerated the Dawuye liquor (by slurping it) and breathing out of my nose, I could sense a hint of a floral note, but it was unclear what that flower was. I eventually just poured the tea out. The empty fairness pitcher smelled exactly like the floral note I detected while drinking the tea. It faintly reminded me of Milan Xiang (Honey Orchid).

Second Steep

For the second brew, I decided to steep for 30 seconds. The liquor remained cloudy. I read somewhere on the internet that you can’t really start to fully appreciate phoenix oolong teas until the third steep, so I wasn’t about to give up so soon. I hoped the second steep would be better than the first.

With the second brew, the initial bitterness had gone away. Because I changed the steeping parameters (I shortened the time, and the water had cooled down a bit), I’m guessing the milder flavor was a result of the combination of changes, rather than a result of a single change. After this experience, I would not recommend brewing tea Guangdong style. I’d suggest reducing the amount of tea or increasing the amount of water. I have gaiwans that are around 120 or 150 milliliters, which would be better for 8 grams of dancong. The brew had a medium mouthfeel. It wasn’t thin like water, but it wasn’t something you could chew on; Dawuye’s liquor was slightly viscous. I also detected a dry finishing note, which I enjoyed.

The baking soda (sodium bicarbonate) flavor was still present. I guess that particular tasting note might have to do with the minerality of the tea and my water. For health reasons, I must use bottled water when in China, but I try to use water that still has some of the naturally occurring minerals in it. I use the same water for all of my tea.

The huigan (aftertaste) was highly floral. The vegetal notes were still present, but the floral aroma was the most prominent feature of this brew. Wudong Tea’s Dawuye was not bad; I just don’t think it was my style.

Third Steep

I added ten seconds to this and subsequent brews, which means the third steep was about 40 seconds long. The showed no signs of letting up; it was certainly a tea that I could brew for a long time if I chose to. It was stubbornly dark. On the third brew the bitterness calmed down even more while the dryness ticked up. The floral-ness became more apparent in the initial taste, but it still mostly lived in the aftertaste. Aerating the tea did almost nothing for the flavor, which is strange for a phoenix oolong. While I was slurping, I actually tasted more astringency in the back of my mouth.The tea tasted like bitter medicinal herbs. I could only describe the tea as ku (bitter).

Subsequent Steeps

The fourth and fifth brews of the tea were better than the first three, but I stopped drinking because I wasn’t enjoying it. I’m grateful for the samples Wudong Tea (Chaozhou Tea Grower) sent me but I had to give up on it. I’m excited to try the other samples they sent. Perhaps I’ll find something I like.

Cloak your Tongue in Awesome Flavor (Teasenz 大红袍)

It’s been a minute since I’ve done a tea post, or at least that’s what it feels like to me.

I drafted most of my September posts back in August, so I haven’t written anything new in nearly a month (I wanted to focus on my new job). As you can probably tell, the last few posts have been going online at super random times; that’s because I’m posting them almost immediately after I finish writing.

Ideally, my articles will come out at regular times and dates. I’ve already made the list for October, so they should be coming out soon.

When I looked in my tea drawer (my beside tables contains nothing but tea), I realized I haven’t tasted Teasenz’s Da Hong Pao （大红袍, Big Red Robe） yet. I wanted to save it so I could compare it to other Da Hong Pao teas sold in my area, since I’m now living quite close to Wuyi Mountain.

I’m so in love with Teasenz’s Da Hong Pao. I’m tempted to order more tea from the company because it’s such high quality. It doesn’t make much sense to order tea, since I live closer to the tea mountains than to the Teasenz company, but I definitely recommend Teasenz to people looking for a company that does international shipping. With a $5 flat-rate fee, they’re hard to beat. I think I’ll order more Pu’er from them, since Yunnan is quite far from me.

Now on to the actual tea~

Brewing notes: I used 5 grams in a standard gaiwan to taste the tea, but I prefer a stronger flavor. Next time I’ll use 7 grams. I heated the water to about 95C. I didn’t wind up buying a variable temperature kettle because I was too impatient to wait for an online shipment to arrive. I like the idea of learning to listen to the bubble to determine the temperature of the water anyway.

When I was at home I used the tap water because Virginia tap water is safe to drink, but here the tap water is questionable at best, even when boiled. My apartment is relatively new so the water may be safe to drink, but I’ve been using bottled water just in case. Bottled water results in a slightly flatter taste because bottled water usually lacks the minerals found in tap water. I might start buying fancy mineral water, but that’s not financially feasible at the moment.

Da Hong Pao’s dry leaves were long, dark and twisted. They were mostly black with smudges of read throughout. As usual, there were very few broken leaves in the package. The leaves smelled like fudge, candied apples and smoked plums. They smelled like a perfume I’d love to wear.

Because I trust the quality of the tea, I skipped the rinse step and immediately brewed the tea for 45 seconds. The color of the liquor was a brilliant honey topaz color, firmly between yellow and orange on the color spectrum. It smelled like toilet water, but I’m willing to ignore that because it tasted a lot like Mei Leaf’s Bei Dou. The aftertaste was strong and fruity.

After the first brew I realized I wanted a stronger flavor, so I added a minute to the brewing time. That means the second brew lasted almost two minutes. The leaves opened up and formed a wet mass in the gaiwan. I wasn’t expecting them to grow so large. They started to smell like blue raspberry Jolly Ranchers and cotton candy.

The tea liquor became a deeper orange, but it retained its topaz characteristics. The flavor transformed into that of high-quality coffee, but without the bitterness. Almost none of the fragrance of the leaves transferred to the taste, but aerating the tea really allowed the taste to morph in your mouth. Air introduces the candy flavors.

The third brew is really when the flavor kicked in. I started tasting citrus and grapes and chocolate and general deliciousness. I was torn between holding the tea in my mouth and aerating it more, because both experiences were so enjoyable. I decided to alternate: one sip I’d hold the tea and on the next I’d aerate it in my mouth.

This pattern continued until the brews finally lost their flavor. I lost track of how many brews I did, but the water needed reheating before the tea lost its flavor. I’m pretty sure that means I got about 8 brews out of the tea.

Da Hong Pao is notorious for it’s price. Some tea connoisseurs refer to it as liquid gold. While I’ve seen varieties of Da Hong Pao in supermarkets and pharmacies in China (seriously, tea is not that big of a deal here), I’ve also seen varieties prices at over $100 for 100 grams (3.5 ounces).

Teasenz tea is on the lower end of the price scale, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting lower quality tea. 50 grams (1.75oz) or Da Hong Pao costs about $10, and they have a sample size (15g/0.5oz) for less than $3. It’s also worth mentioning that Teasenz accepts a variety of currencies, including Thai Baht, Czech Koruna, and Russian Ruble. I don’t think I have any readers from those regions yet, but I just thought I’d put it out there.

I believe I have one more Teasenz review to write (I need to double check that) but it’s probably going to be a positive review. The value for your money is truly amazing. I discovered a mystery tea in my drawer, so I think I’ll taste that one next. In my opinion, a happy tongue is a happy life.

Mei Leaf’s Blinding “Summer Haze”

For some background information, be sure to check out the post on my first Mei Leaf tasting experience.

Mei Leaf Boxes This week, I became well acquainted with Mei Leaf’s Hu Xiao Qi Lan (who see-ow chi lan), or “Summer Haze.” I searched the internet for the characters for “Hu Xiao Qi Lan,” but the only thing I could find was “奇兰” (qi lan), which is a particular type of cliff tea. I typed in various combinations of characters for “hu” and “xiao” but I couldn’t find a combination that made sense. Since this tea came from Tiger Cliff in Fujian province, I’m guessing the “hu xiao” is “虎啸” which means “tiger.” In the end it doesn’t really matter; I don’t need the characters to identify the tea, and “qi lan” will likely be enough for me to find another similar tea and make comparisons. Part two of the tasting experience was not quite as delightful as part one, but that’s not to say it was unpleasant. Rather, qi lan simply isn’t my style. I’m used to darker, fuller-bodied oolongs. If I have to choose between cliff teas, phoenix oolongs and Tie Guan Yin (“tee-eh goo-won yeen”, Iron Goddess), I’m more likely to choose cliff teas. To me, Qi Lan seemed to be more on the lighter end of the cliff tea spectrum. Mei Leaf describes Qi Lan as having an “asian pear” flavor note… but I don’t particularly like pears. Still, the tea was very good.

Qi Lan Tea Liqour — Beginning brews of the Qi Lan tea liqour

I tasted the tea in a 100ml gaiwan and boiled the water to just under 100C. I don’t have a kettle that allows me to boil water to a specific temperature, so my only options are to either boil the water and wait for it to cool down or to bring the water to a boil then add cooler water until the temperature is right. I usually bring the water to a boil and pour it from a height so the water reaches the appropriate temperature before it reaches the tea leaves. There’s a little bit of splashing involved in this process, but my hands have been burnt so many times they pretty much don’t feel the heat anymore (this is also convenient when I’m cooking). As with Bei Dou, Qi Lan‘s leaves were long, dark and twisted. There were not a whole lot of broken leaf fragments in the package. I measured out 8 grams of tea for the first brew, because that’s my standard, but I also tried brewing just 5 grams of leaves, which is the amount Mei Leaf recommended. Generally, I prefer the flavorful impact of 8 gram brews, but Qi Lan’s flavor became murky and a little bitter when I used 8 grams. 5 grams of tea seemed to be just the right amount to bring out Qi Lan‘s personality.

The smell of the dry leaf was kind of citrusy– I agree with Mei Leaf’s “mangosteen” description. Wetting the leaf brought out the smokey/earthy aroma one finds in nearly all cliff teas. The first few brews yielded a tea liquor that was a fairly bright yellow-orange. The more I brewed the tea, the more yellow the tea liquor became. If I had to look at color alone, I would have never guessed the tea is a cliff oolong, because all of the cliff oolong’s I’ve tasted tend to stay on the red-brown spectrum.

Qi Lan has been by far one of the most interesting cliff oolong’s I’ve tasted to date. The mouth feel is rather thin, but the flavor is complex. The first thing I noticed was the overwhelming brightness of the flavor. If you compare Bei Dou side-by-side with Qi Lan, you’ll notice an immediate difference. Whereas Bei Dou and other cliff teas like Rou Gui (“row gooway”) tend to taste dark and heavy, Qi Lan has a lightness that doesn’t weigh down the tongue. The flavor continued to develop as I chewed on the aroma. Qi Lan reminded me of late spring and early summer fruits, while Bei Dou reminded me of mid-to-late autumn fruit. Bei Dou was a warm tea, but Qi Lan felt cool. Once I opened my mouth again, the flavor dissipated. Qi Lan doesn’t seem to have the long, lingering flavor of darker oolongs.

I still prefer the darker personality of Bei Dou, but Qi Lan is great for casual drinking. In fact, I used Qi Lan for western brews and cold brews that I put in bottles to take with me while I run errands. Qi Lan tastes great but it isn’t overwhelmingly powerful like other cliff teas. I would not, however, suggest drinking Qi Lan with meals that have strong flavors. Qi Lan is a little shy, and I can easily see it hiding behind the taste of a meat dish. As an experiment, though, it might be worth it to see what Qi Lan tastes like as a food flavoring. I wouldn’t use it to make tea eggs (that’d probably be weird) but I wonder if Qi Lan can be used as a cake flavoring. I’m much too incompetent in the kitchen to try it out, but I’d love to hear the results if any of you do wind up testing it.

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