Are you feeling writerly on a scale even smaller than one hundred and forty character micro-blogging? Consider entering Ito En’s haiku contest. Ito En is the company that manufactures a lot of the bottled and canned green and oolong tea sold in Japan and the United States. Submissions are due by July 6th, 2009. I’m not sure I’m capable of being quite that terse myself, but I might get inspired to write something.

“From the beginning of time, poetry, especially haiku, has been used to convey the most important of messages. This year, we invite you to express yourself – your views and feelings – about these themes through the time-honored medium of haiku.

Create a haiku that reflects your vision of tomorrow based around Change, Hope and Progress and send them to us for a chance to have your haiku featured on one of our TEA’S TEA bottles next year.”

The Haiku Project 2009 – For Change, Hope & Progress

As additional inspiration from Japanese poetry forms, here is the jisei no ku (辞世の句), or death poem, written by Yukio Mishima as an element of his full ritual seppuku. Apologies for not presenting it in the original Japanese. You can find it here if you can read Kanji.

“A small night storm blows
Saying ‘falling is the essence of a flower’
Preceding those who hesitate”

In a more strictly tea-related vein, Sen no Rikyu, the man most responsible for the development of Chanoyu (the Japanese tea ceremony) in the 16th century also committed ritual suicide.

“According to Okakura Kakuzo in The Book of Tea, his last act was to hold an exquisite tea ceremony. After serving all his guests, he presented each piece of the tea-equipage for their inspection, along with an exquisite kakemono, which Okakura described as “a wonderful writing by an ancient monk dealing with the evanescence of all things.” Rikyu presented each of his guests with a piece of the equipment as a souvenir, with the exception of the bowl, which he shattered, uttering “Never again shall this cup, polluted by the lips of misfortune, be used by man.” As the guests departed, one remained to serve as witness to Rikyu’s death. Rikyu’s last words, which he wrote down as a death poem, were in verse, addressed to the dagger with which he took his own life:

Welcome to thee,
O sword of eternity!
Through Buddha
And through Daruma alike
Thou hast cleft thy way.”

- excerpted from source linked above

Green Tea, Inspirations, Japan | No Comments »

A couple of nights ago, as I sat pondering the stark range of contrasts in flavor and character among the three types of shochu I was drinking (rice, barley and buckwheat) in a Japanese izakaya during happy hour, I listened to a brief exchange about tea between the two patrons at the table next to me and the server. Considering I was only a couple of feet away, my eavesdropping was unavoidable in the first place, but the word “tea” caught my ear. The older of the two patrons asked the waiter what kind of tea they had, and he said, “green tea,” and then, after a very brief pause that seemed to indicate an afterthought, he added, “and also oolong tea.” The bar patron then asked him if there were any health benefits to the green tea. He skirted around it a tiny bit, but then proceeded to tell her that green tea was very healthy and full of antioxidants, selling her on the idea of buying a cup of this tea more like it was a type of a medicinal cure-everything tonic than an enjoyable beverage.

This is not at all unusual, and I see it as at least a little bit irresponsible and misleading on the part of the bar worker. I would not expect a waiter at a bar – even a traditionally-styled, green tea serving, Japanese pub-like bar – to know anything very specific about tea. I would especially not expect a waiter to be well-informed as to the current research into the medicinal effects of the camellia sinensis plant. And if these assumptions regarding the waiter’s knowledge are accurate the only ethically responsible reply to a customer’s inquiry about the health benefits of a cup of tea should be to say that he was neither a doctor nor a nutritionist and thus he could not comment on the healthful benefits of the green tea. Instead, the waiter in this case touted the drink as being something that the person should drink because it was good for her. He went on a bit about how green tea is full of antioxidants, without, of course, explaining what that means or how antioxidants are beneficial to a body. More extensive knowledge would not have helped him make his case, because the actual effects of adding extra antioxidants into a person’s diet are not completely understood yet. As I anticipated, the patron ordered the green tea.

Now part of what I find rather amusing about the whole thing is that I can assert with complete confidence that the one cup of green tea, consumed at a bar alongside assorted varieties of sake and an array of fatty, deep fried Japanese pub snacks will have a completely negligible effect on this woman’s health and well-being. But somehow she felt that it was necessary, as if somehow those magical antioxidants in that pale green brew that didn’t taste all that great to her unaccustomed palate would be good for her, as if it was a healthy thing to tip the scales just that little bit in her favor. I’ve seen a whole lot of this attitude among people who aren’t generally tea drinkers.

Of course there isn’t anything wrong with this sort of casual and infrequent green tea drinking. But I think it’s much healthier to be realistic and scientific about how tea actually interacts with the human body than it is to buy into the hype that it’s some sort of miracle drink. Research on the health benefits of tea is nowhere near exhausted and there is a great deal of conflicting and unsupported evidence floating around. People in positions of authority – food servers and sellers – need to be clear on presenting only real, verifiable research-supported facts as facts. Conjecture and speculation need to be presented as what they are. Selling a cup of green tea to a customer by promoting the beneficial effects of antioxidants – which I’m sure the server could not have actually defined if pressed – is only spewing out more of that same ill-informed media hype about green tea as wonder drug.

I myself ordered a cup of the oolong, which tasted kind of like a lower grade Wuyi rock oolong and was better than I anticipated it would be. Normally I would not drink Chinese tea as an accompaniment to Japanese food and drink, but ordering the green tea seemed like the wrong thing to do when I was being so critical about how they were selling it to other customers.

Green Tea, Japan | 4 Comments »

While hot tea can be a great way to warm up on a winter day or even during a summer thunderstorm, it isn’t always the first choice for a summer beverage, especially in the hottest months of the year. There are some ways that you can take your love of tea into the summer without sacrificing any of the great taste or health benefits it offers. Here are some tips on embracing summer tea time.

Ice it. Almost everyone is familiar with the deliciousness of iced tea, as it’s a quintessential summer beverage. You don’t have to use the classic black tea, however, as green and white teas can make equally as tasty iced tea. Experiment with tea types to find the perfect blend for your tastes.

Add fruit. Summer is a time when many fruits are at their peak so why not take advantage and use them to flavor your tea? Raspberries, blueberries and even oranges can add a lot to tea and make it feel super summer ready.

Sweeten it. For those with a sweet tooth, summer can be the perfect excuse to sweeten up your tea more than usual. Try out a great southern iced tea recipe for a much sweeter take on the usually bitter taste of tea.

Combine it with other beverages. Tea doesn’t have to go it alone when you’re searching for a great summer beverage. Flavor your tea with lemonade, pomegranate juice or a variety of other juices for a refreshing and healthy twist on regular tea.

Make a punch. Whether you choose to add alcohol or not is up to you, but tea can be a great addition to many summer-friendly punches. Mixed with fruit, juices and sparkling water, tea can bring a lot of life to the party.

Use it to flavor other foods. Like sorbet? Wouldn’t tea sorbet be even better? There are many summery recipes that use tea as a flavoring agent. From duck to cheesecake, there are tons of recipes out there that can let you have your tea and eat it too.

Some tea enthusiasts claim that tea can actually help prevent sunburn and be healthier for you than water. Whether these are true claims or not, there’s no reason to skip out on tea when the temperatures climb.

This post was contributed by Meredith Walker, who writes about the nursing degree. She welcomes your feedback at MeredithWalker1983 at gmail.com.

Black Tea, Blends and Flavored Teas, Non-Tea Infusions | 3 Comments »

Mighty Leaf’s Marakesh Mint Green Tea doesn’t taste like the traditional tea that they make in Morrocco. Only a particular brewing technique and fresh mint leaves can accomplish that, but it does taste like something nice and flavorful, especially if it’s cold. And cold, it also tastes like a drink you might relish if you were actually riding a camel across the Morrocan desert.

Mintiness is a logical flavor to go with hot weather and cold drinks, so I cold-brewed this tea. I put the bag into a Mason jar of spring water with the tag hanging out, stuck it in the refrigerator and ignored it for about fifteen hours. Then I took it out, removed the bag and tasted it. It was quite good and quite refreshing. This method produces a calmly flavored brew, particularly with just one tea bag for a whole jar, and in this case the result was just right. It might have gotten a little stronger if I had left it in longer, but it didn’t really need to be. I can’t imagine putting sugar in it, and it certainly doesn’t need anything added to make it interesting, but I don’t put sugar in anything, so take that with a grain of salt (or sugar?). I would recommend going light if you really must sweeten it, though. The delicate mint could get overwhelmed.

This is Mighty Leaf’s description:

“Marrakesh Mint green tea is made from China Gunpowder green tea blended with refreshing Moroccan peppermint. Packaged in a silken tea pouch, our gourmet teabag, this blend will whisk you away to cascading waterfalls deep in the mountains of Morocco. Host friends and family with this lively green tea brightened with peppermint cultivated on a mountain in Tiznit.”

Cold brewing is the best use I can think of for tea in bags like this and it is terribly convenient. You just pull out the bag or bags when you’re done steeping the tea and you have a nice refreshing jar or pitcher of tea. I wrote about the evil microbes that can invade your sun tea on The Taste of English Tea Blog, in case you want to be convinced that cold-brewing tea is a good idea.

One thing that I usually forget about mint tea, since I don’t drink it very often, is that it can help alleviate certain symptoms of some respiratory problems. It can help clear the lungs and other air passages, enabling you to feel like you’re taking in more air as you breathe. In my case I don’t know if this has something to do with asthma or allergies, but I always notice the difference that drinking mint tea makes in improving my breathing, and it usually comes as a surprise since I’m usually not drinking it for that purpose.

As I sat down to write this, with a glass of Marrakesh Mint for inspiration, I thought about how funny it was to be writing about a hot weather, summery cool, mint tea when it had been overcast and rainy all day today. But as I sat there, taking nice sips of the cold tea the sun came out, so apparently this tea has a magical ability to summon the sunlight, which is kind of a nice side benefit if you’re into that sort of thing.

Blends and Flavored Teas, Green Tea, Reviews | 1 Comment »

Closely tying in to the last post, I wanted to provide some details on the Banko-Yaki Houhin teapot that I referred to. I wasn’t really in the market for a teapot in this style when I came across this one several months ago, but I really liked the look of it so I bought it. The style of pot is Houhin (宝瓶) and it is Banko-Yaki (万古焼), which means that it was made under the Banko kiln name. “Yaki” means “ware” in Japanese, and often with ceramics the part of the name preceding the “-Yaki” is the name of the kiln. This part of the name often also identifies the type of clay since different regions and manufacturers can have their own distinct type of clay. This is true with both Banko and Tokoname. By contrast the “Hagi” in Hagi-Yaki, that Japanese ceramic ware that looks like Frosted Mini-Wheats, the name refers to the glaze and rough style, not the base clay.

Banko-Yaki clay is quite distinctive with its dark brown/purple color and metallic sheen. It feels a little like stoneware in the hand, although it’s not heavy. It sometimes has hand painted decorations on it, but it seems to be most often unglazed, like the Banko-Yaki pot that I have. Of course other forms of teapots can be Banko-Yaki. Banko-Yaki Kyuusu are not unusual.

The Houhin style of teapot is different from a Kyusu (or Kyuusu) primarily in that it is without handles. Its upside-down, 3-sided pyramid shaped spout is typical and differentiates it from a Shiboridashi, which is a smaller capacity, very shallow lidded teapot without a handle and without a strainer. A Houhin teapot can have either a built-in stainless steel strainer like mine, or it can have a sasame – a filter that is made of the same clay and integrated into the pot itself.

Really the most remarkable thing about this particular Banko-Yaki Houhin is its price. I bought mine from “The Japanese Green Tea Shop” on eBay for $19 and Yuuki-Cha offers it from their online store for $19 also. These may actually be the same seller, but there are none of these items on eBay right now. This is quite a bargain for an attractive and functional piece of Japanese teaware. I question whether it is actually handmade, as the product description states, because each of the teapots looks identical and it feels and looks machined. The price also leads me to doubt its manufacture as made by hand. Handmade artisan teapots from Japan are usually a lot more expensive. Here is the product description:

“A little handcrafted houhin Banko-Yaki teapot. It is unglazed, fired at 1200°C, and has an iron rich clay. Each side of the teapot has an image of a swan, and the top of the lid’s handle has an image of a flower. Its full capacity is 190ml (6.4oz) measured to the rim. However, when correctly used a houhin should NEVER be filled more than 2/3’s full making its maximum usable capacity approximately 120ml (4oz). In addition, only Japanese green teas such as gyokuro, high quality kabusecha, or high quality sencha that brew at lower temperatures of 50°C-60°C should be prepared in a houhin. Our organic gyokuro, organic kabusecha, or organic gokujo sencha will brew up perfectly in this little houhin! Comes with a hiraami stainless steel strainer that covers the spout exit.”

The bottom line is that this cheap little teapot brews quite delicious tea. The unglazed iron-rich clay has a wonderful effect on Japanese green tea, comparable to that of my Hokujo Tokoname Kyuusu, which cost considerably more money. I would never risk bringing the lovely Hokujo pot anywhere dangerous, but this little Banko-Yaki pot isn’t so precious so currently its sitting on my desk at work. I consider this $19 pot quite a bargain and I’ve grown quite fond of the way that it brews. The one annoyance that I have found with it is that it doesn’t pour terribly well. I’ve tried varying speed and angle of my pour and it always seems to drip some tea or water down its front and onto the table. But most of the liquid ends up where it ought to – in the teacups – and it’s an easy swipe of a towel to clean up after it.

Green Tea, Japan, Paraphernalia | 11 Comments »

Mellow Monk’s Top Leaf is the first flush (Spring picking) of a type of Japanese green tea processed differently from most, as a type of Sencha called Tamaryokucha. It is a lovely tea and one that exhibits signs of having been processed with care and attention. Mellow Monk buys all of its teas from small farms in the Aso region of Japan, and the high quality teas that they sell are not available from other retailers. These teas are not mass-produced, violently machine-picked and processed teas; they’re carefully grown, plucked and steamed using environmentally responsible methods.

Mellow Monk’s description of Top Leaf:

“This is our top-of-the-line honcha, or traditional green tea. Top Leaf™ tea is specially pampered in its own separate corner of the tea orchard. Not only does this tea receive extra fertilizer (organic, of course) during the growing season, but at harvest time, the growers pick only the top layer of young tea leaves. The result is a distinctive, more subtle, gentler flavor. This tea is always first flush.”

More general to Mellow Monk’s teas, all of which are Tamaryokucha:

“Another term for honcha is “sencha.” Our sencha is a type called tamaryokucha (”curly green tea”), the most popular style on the southern Japanese island of Kyushu. Unlike the straight leaves of big-city sencha, country-style tamaryokucha is curled after steaming and drying during the tea-preparation process. These and other subtle differences in the tea-making process give tamaryokucha its distinctive fresh taste and muted astringency. The rich volcanic soils of the Mt. Aso foothills, where this tea is grown, make for an exquisitely rich flavor and a hearty aroma, but without the bite that comes from other soil types.”

The leaf does indeed have a different appearance and shape from other types of Sencha and from Gyokuro. It isn’t as dramatically curled as a Chinese green tea like Bi Lo Chun, but its leaves are much more twisty than the tiny straight pieces typical of other Sencha teas. These pre-brewed curly tea leaves have quite a nice scent, slightly reminiscent of henna or fennel.

The experience of drinking this tea is like handling thin pale green silk. It is light and smooth and soft. While it has the vegetal flavors of most Japanese green teas, it is not at all harsh. It tastes like tea rather than lawn clippings. The first infusion has the strongest flavor, and the flavor of each subsequent infusion drops off gently. After consuming a few cups of this tea, a strong and pleasant creamy taste lingers in the mouth for quite some time.

One thing that has become apparent to me as I’ve familiarized myself with this tea is that it can exhibit very different characteristics depending on brewing methods. It lends itself well to experimentation to find the way that produces the tea liquor that suits the drinker’s particular preferences. Japanese green teas, particularly the higher quality ones like this one, require attentive brewing. It’s easy to produce a tea that is quite unpleasant. It’s also quite easy to produce a very enjoyable tea, but I don’t think most people will be able to attain this without paying enough attention.

I rarely pay attention to a company’s recommended brewing techniques. I rely on experimentation and my knowledge and past experience regarding what techniques work for a particular variety of tea. Mellow Monk’s Top Leaf is pretty delicate so I used the same methods I would use for a Gyokuro, brewing at 140 degrees for 30 seconds in spring water. The two vessels I used successfully were a Banko-Yaki Hohin pot and a Tokoname Kyusu. The Hokujo Tokoname pot is the one in the photographs. Both of these teapots, made from iron-rich clays, coaxed a delicious mellow brew from this tea for at least 4-5 infusions. I imagine that there are people who prefer their Japanese green teas on the brassy and grassy side, in which case brewing in glass or porcelain with hotter water would be preferable. I can not recommend brewing this tea in water hotter than 160 degrees, unless you really enjoy that bitter, burned green tea flavor.

Mellow Monk’s website has a very good article on water temperature and Japanese green teas. The article denies the need for using one to measure water temperature, but I really like using a thermometer rather than relying on a nebulous unscientific one-ness with the tea process. That said, each person needs to find his own path to the tea he likes, so if your results are better without a thermometer you don’t need one. The important thing is that you yourself enjoy the tea you brew, not that you follow someone else’s rules about it.

Green Tea, Japan, Reviews | 2 Comments »

Black teas from Yunnan Province are my standard everyday comfort teas, and I generally drink them several times a week, so I was interested in trying narienteas’ Yunnan Golden Tips. The first time I brewed a pot of it I was a little surprised by the initial taste because it had none of the carmel, brown sugar flavor that I have come to expect from Yunnan teas with any form of the word “gold” in the name. This sweetness is even more likely to be prominent in Yunnan teas that are described as “tippy,” which means that leaves from the part of the Yunnan tea bushes that are golden in color and sweeter in flavor make up a major portion of the tea. The dry leaf of the Yunnan Golen Tips was also less gold in color than I expected, but all of these differences from other Yunnan gold teas that I have had could be seasonal variations. In any case, these differences did not make the tea less drinkable. Yunnan black teas, even when they are not so sugary, are very smooth and excellent to drink. They can provide an excellent introduction to the black teas of China, which have such a different character from any teas I have had that were grown in the Indian sub-continent.

Despite being a little different from what I expected, the Yunnan Golden Tips was a very good tea, one that I enjoyed drinking each time that I made it. It is a reliable, basic everyday tea, good for mustering up enough energy to make it through a long day of work. The tea has enough flavor to be interesting, without the harsh astringency of some other varieties of black tea. It has a very comfortable taste and does not need anything added to it.

Narienteas’ packaging also identifies the Yunnan Golden Tips as “Dian Hong” which means “Yunnan Red,” a descriptor of where it’s from and what type of tea it is. “Dian” is the older name for Yunnan (more precisely it refers to the Dian Kingdom, an ancient civilization in the area that is now Yunnan Province), and in China the teas we usually call “black” are called “red,” which is “hong” in Mandarin. I have had other teas labeled “Dian Hong” which, to the best of what I can remember, tasted identical to narienteas’ Yunnan Golden Tips.

Like it will with most Chinese black teas of respectable quality, a second steeping of Yunnan Golden Tips produces a good tasting cup of tea. Beyond that it’s not really worth brewing unless you like your tea a little weak and flat.

narienteas’ description:

“Yunnan Golden Tips is a beautiful Yunnan black tea with tippy, golden colored leaves. Brews a rich aromatic cup with a delicious spice tone.”

Brewing this tea is straightforward: use filtered or spring water brought to a full boil, steep in a porcelain, ceramic or glass teapot for 3-5 minutes depending on your personal preference, pour into a glass cup and drink in the sunshine.

Black Tea, China, Reviews | 3 Comments »

The first thing I noticed when I opened the package of Canton Tea Co’s Yulan Dancong was that the leaves were exceptionally long, slender, and tinged with gold. They were only slightly curled and twisted, which emphasized their length and shape. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a tea that was so attractive before it even came into contact with water. There wasn’t a single broken leaf in the package, which is really quite impressive considering the miles this tea has traveled since it was plucked: from Wu Dong Montain in the Guangdong region of Southern China to London, U.K. to Seattle, Washington, pausing at some unknown number of carrier stop-offs along the way.

Even before the kettle began to heat for transforming it into tea, I knew that this leaf would brew into something very special. The scent in the bag and the visible high quality of the leaf promised greatness, and I was not disappointed. Unlike many teas, I could smell the brew as soon as it began to steep, even from several feet away. The first sip confirmed its spectacular flavor and it just got better, revealing more of its character with each subsequent infusion. The taste of the rich golden yellow liquor reminded me of butter and gardenias, a flavor unlike any other oolongs that I have had. It was most delicious in its fourth infusion, which in my experience is highly unusual for a high quality oolong. On the fifth infusion the tea began to get a little drying in the mouth, but it still tasted good.

In my tastings I had detected an affinity between the scent of the tea and gardenias, but this tea is traditionally associated with the scent of magnolia flowers. In fact the literal translation of “yulan” is “magnolia.” This leads me to the idea that I should seek out closer contact with some magnolia trees, especially if they emit a smell as wonderful as this tea when they’re in flower! The rest of this tea’s name, “dancong” (alternately written “dan cong”) translates to “single tree” or “single bush.”

Canton Tea Co’s description of this tea:

Origin: Wu Dong Mountain, Chao Zhou, Guang Dong.
Harvest : Winter 2008
Varietal : Single Bush Yu Lan
Altitude : 400m ~ 600m
Certification : Small production direct from the farmer.

The leaves are a golden-green with a wrinkly surface and have a peach-like fragrance. The liquor is full-bodied with a thick texture and has a deliciously sweet, long-lasting aftertaste which means it is a good example of a high quality Yulan. The flavour develops with each brew saves should be infused several times.

Brewing tips: Brew at 85c for 2 to 3 minutes and infuse the leaves 3 or 4 times.

NB These fine, high grade, whole leaf teas yield different flavours with each successive infusion. The second is usually considered the best. This is why the best way to brew the tea is in a small pot or Piao I and to make several quick infusions.

This tea needs to be brewed with good water and in a vessel that gives the leaves plenty of room. Since they are not tightly curled into little balls they won’t expand as much as a tea like a green oolong, but they take up more room to begin with. You won’t want to constrain them. I used a porcelain gaiwan, which worked quite nicely. Even my glass gongfu pot would have cramped the leaves a little too much as they brewed.

A short time after I tasted the Yulan Dancong for the first time I had a curious discussion with my favorite local Chinese tea vendor. Upon entering her shop I asked if she had any Dancong. I figured I’d start less specific and inquire specifically about Yulan Dancong if there were options. If she had any tea of that exact variety I wanted to see if it tasted the same. Additionally, I wanted to try other teas from the same region since I had enjoyed the Yulan Dancong so much. She didn’t know what I was asking her for, which could be because I was using terms in the wrong language, Cantonese instead of Mandarin, or some other inability to communicate on my part. I had been assuming that dancong oolongs were widely known among tea people and they were always called the same thing. I even showed her the product page on the Canton Tea Co website on my phone. I explained that it was an oolong from Guang Dong (Canton) Province, which got us a little further, but she said that the only tea she had from that area was Phoenix Oolong (Feng Huang Dancong) and said that it was the best known and the only tea she knew from that area. That particular Feng Huang Dancong is one that I’ve tasted in her shop before (unless there is another tea she calls “Phoenix Oolong”), and I liked it, but was never impressed enough to buy any of it – And that’s in spite of a personal fixation with the Chinese Feng Huang, a creature that isn’t actually very much like the Phoenix of Western mythologies. Most of the teas in this particular tea shop are from more southwesterly parts of China, so Yulan Dancong could just be a type of tea that she doesn’t have suppliers for or interest in.

I haven’t determined how obscure this tea actually is, but I will probably order more of it from Canton Tea Co., just to see if it continues astonishing me with how wonderful it is. I also want to try brewing it in some different vessels to see what results I get. This tea rivals my all time favorite tea, which is a Spring Competition-Grade Ti Kuanyin Oolong, a very lightly oxidized green oolong from Anxi Province, which I usually buy some of every year.

China, Oolong Tea, Reviews | 8 Comments »

Big Red Robe Oolong Supreme (Wuyi Da Hong Pao Wu Long) is Jing Tea’s offering of one of the most sought-after and famous of the teas grown in the Wu Yi Mountains. It’s like a more highly refined, noble and more costly big brother to lesser Rock Oolong or Wu Yi Oolong teas.

In general I really like the scent of the darker rock-grown oolongs and Da Hong Pao is especially pleasing. It is unlike oolongs from other regions of China and I find it difficult to describe because it is not at all sweet and does not have any similarities to any other flavors I can think of, except perhaps freshly air-dried tobacco leaves. More accurately, I should probably state that it smells like I imagine freshly drying tobacco leaves would smell. I’ve never been anywhere near a tobacco farm. The scent of the tea is completely unlike stale cigarettes, pipe smoke or anything tobacco-related and unpleasant and it is not at all smoky. It’s warm and dark.

Big Red Robe Oolong Supreme brews into an enjoyable liquor, one that will seem quite unfamiliar to those who have never tasted it before or tasted any of the lesser oolongs grown in the same general area. It deserves slow attentive brewing and serving: Gongfu style in a yixing pot dedicated to brewing only this type of tea is ideal. Its flavor may drop off significantly in a second infusion, but it will remain interesting for at least four infusions.

Wuyi Mountain is quite a remarkable area of China, and it is not at all surprising that it would yield such noteworthy teas. The area is the source of a great number of legends, some about Da Hong Pao itself, some about all manner of other topics, such as the boat shaped rock formations up on the cliffs.

One of the legends surrounding Da Hong Pao is relayed here, excerpted from Journey to the legendary 400 year old Big Red Robe trees., on Jing Tea’s website:

The original Big Red Robe trees found their name after a Ming dynasty mandarin attributed his survival of a serious illness to their curative powers. He was travelling to Beijing via the Wuyi Mountains and fell ill. He rested in a small hut and was tended to by a Buddhist monk living in another hut a few feet away. The monk picked leaves from three tea trees growing above them on a cliff. He made tea from the leaves and the mandarin drank the restorative liquor daily and made what was considered to be a miraculous recovery. The Mandarin then returned to Beijing and related his experience to the Emperor.

The Emperor deeply loved and respected the Mandarin, and sent his imperial scarlet robe to be draped over the bushes. These same three trees still survive today. Leaves are picked from them every year and made into tea – perhaps only a few kilos depending on the weather conditions. Many consider these trees to be too old to produce good quality oolong tea but it is still amazing to visit these trees as a living part of history. The setting is stunning and countless Chinese tourists visit the trees and the local area every day.

Big Red Robe Oolong Supreme (Wuyi Da Hong Pao Wu Long) is an excellent and distinguished tea, one that provides a very different drinking experience from more common varieties of tea. I would caution against buying teas called Da Hong Pao from retailers of unknown reputation. They could be fraudulently marketing a lesser tea under the famous tea’s name. However, Jing Tea’s Da Hong Pao is reliable and trustworthy. The tea will get to you and will be exactly what it says it is. And more than likely you will also get a great deal of enjoyment from the cups of tea brewed from it!

Note: The painting accompanying this post has nothing to do with emperors, tea or legendary red robes. It is Red Robe With White Cranes, by Jin Gao, oil on canvas, 40 x 29.9 in., 1996.

China, Oolong Tea, Reviews | 1 Comment »

In addition to my writing here, I am also a contributing writer for The Taste of English Tea Blog, which is connected to the English Tea Store. This has led me to pursue avenues of tea and tea research of a more English flavor. One recent example was that I started finding out more about the classic Brown Betty teapot, the quintessential tea accessory in so many working class English homes. I had never given these teapots much attention, dismissing them as boring, unattractive devices used for haphazardly brewing tea with little regard to quality since Englishmen obliterate the taste of their cuppa’ with milk and sugar. (I’m not going to defend this clearly ignorant and unfair assumption.)

One benefit of obtaining better information is dismantling my biases, and this was no exception. I discovered that this particular piece of tea ware is more distinctive in its materials and design than I had thought, plus it has an interesting history that I had known nothing about. I also discovered that it brews an excellent pot of tea. I now have a 6-cup Brown Betty that I enjoy using for the same types of tea that are typical of English tea consumption: Ceylon, Darjeeling, Assam, Earl Grey, etc. The teapot is also a more solid and attractive object than I had thought it was, never having handled or used one until recently.

One thing that I spent a little time puzzling over was that brewing in the Brown Betty is optimal with the loose tea leaf directly in the pot, but this presents a quandary of how to halt the steeping process when the tea is ready. Of course one would not want to allow the leaves to over-steep as the tea is consumed, and generally the entire contents would not be distributed into cups right off, so the logical solution would be to decant the tea into a different pot for serving. I haven’t been able to determine whether this is accurate, but I suspect that perhaps in English homes where there are formal tea sets, like those made by Wedgwood or Limoges, the fine china teapots would be used for serving, but not for brewing. The proletarian Brown Betty would be used to steep the tea but would be left back in the kitchen after the tea was poured into a fancier teapot.

However, in spite of its plainer appearance the Brown Betty is also very good at keeping tea nicely warm after steeping and it pours exceptionally well, so there are practical advantages to using it for serving the tea. In an attempt to resolve this, I performed one experiment where I strained the tea into an alternate container and then back into the Brown Betty after the leaves were rinsed out, but the method was very awkward and impractical and had a high risk of burnt fingers. The best solution I could come up with was to use two same-sized Brown Betty teapots. After steeping, the tea can be strained into the second pre-warmed pot which can then be used for serving the tea. I am sure that this is unconventional, but it seems to be an ideal solution, particularly since the cost of a second Brown Betty is not prohibitive.

This is just the beginning of my post on The English Tea Blog (which has little or no overlap of content with this one):

“Despite its humble appearance and role as default teapot in so many English cupboards, the Brown Betty is a much more interesting piece of tea ware than one might assume. The ancestral forms of the Brown Betty came into production and use in England near the close of the seventeenth century, when craftsmen began using the unique red clay found in the Bradell Woods area of Stoke-on-Trent to fashion into teapots.”

Read the rest on The Taste of English Tea Blog.

Black Tea, England, Paraphernalia | 7 Comments »