Boss Square Reprise

Posted on by Yang-chu
23 Jun

On solstice 2022, the Puerh Junky received a shipment containing an item that he’s been trying to track down since acquiring in ’17.  It’s the Boss Square.  I ended up getting it from the same vendor as before, the vendor from whom I’ve acquired most of my GPE stash.  It seemed like an interesting idea to list what I wrote about the Boss Square some five years ago.  Quite a bit has changed since then, not the least of which is having a modicum of understanding about GPE itself.

Gu Puerh started its exploits in 1999.  As often stated, the breaking of the tea monopoly known simply as Zhongcha witnessed the spawning of numerous private ventures that were previously branded under the Zhongcha label.  Often these factories were supplying to the big three, Menghai TF,  Xiaguan TF, and Kunming TF.  This factor contributes in no small part to my skepticism around the craze around Menghai/Dayi productions.  To be honest, I cannot say just how much “better” Dayi actually is.  I don’t bother drinking them with the exception of a sample or two that I’m gifted.  The Puerh Junky is not particularly inclined toward buying hype, favouring a “less well trod” path.

Aside from the dissolution of the monopoly, many of the Menghai TF braintrust were forced to break out for new pastures, setting up factories of their own, e.g., Haiwan, Xinghai, Boyou, and Pengcheng to name a few.  Some of these individuals, aside from having their own operations, are commissioned by other factories for specific productions or have a significant hand in operations of other factories, such as Ms Du Qiongzhi and Ms Wang Xia.  It is this latter who is much more highly regarded and is known for several famous productions.

The Boss Square, first introduced in 1999, was created by Wang Xia.  It won the Annual International Tea Expo hosted in Guangzhou that year.  That ’99 version, if it can be found, is a collectors’ item.  Any other version, I’ve only seen the ’07, is definitely worth snatching up.  There are many GPE raw squares on the market.  It’s often difficult to discern them from the ZC offerings and the numerous other replicas from other factories.  The GPE raw square is also crafted by Wang Xia.  Fakes for this size seem to be plentiful, but it seems to be usually for the ZC offering.

Wang Xia seems to have the Simao region under her wing.  In at least one previous post, I noted some confusion over whether GPE and the Simao TF were one in the same.  This post is mistaken, btw.  They are the same.  This question arose in the course of purchasing two bazhong productions both associated with the Simao TF.  Only within the past six months did I learn that the bazhong A, one which I’ve written about on more than one occasion, is actually a Wang Xia production.  The thing is, Wang Xia has her own operation also bearing the name Simao in the title.  I’ve not gone so far as to discover the gory details.  Below is the copy of the original Boss Square description.

—-

Of all the ripes I have in my collection, since acquiring this this summer of ’17, I keep it most at the ready.  The conveniently renamed ’07 Boss Square Puerh comes from the Simao Tea Factory, which I believe was designated with the #5 back in the day of the state-operated system.

This is a flawlessly rich ripe puerh.  Zero tannins.  High-impact delivery of chocolately goodness.  No dank, earthy, interesting microbial musing necessary.  In the hot zisha dry it gives off none of the saltiness so common among productions.  Wet in the cup, the wafting aroma from the pitcher is evident.  Grains and malt.

The gan is evident very quickly and lasts and lasts in the mouth and from one infusion to the next.  In order to get past the tannins, many productions require over-brewing or are best when brewed for more than a minute.  After the second infusion, 10s I found to be too much for this.  The release is rich with just 5s.  And the qi is full and expansive in the chest.  The mouth is active.

This is an exceptional ripe production and for experienced drinkers.

Puerh Junky Visits Yiwu Gratitude

Posted on by Yang-chu
20 May

Puerh Junky Visits Yiwu Gratitude should be a a tidy communique about just how tasty this offering is.  It is very, very good.  It tastes very, very good.  The storage on it is spectacular, really the epitome of ideal storage.  It comes from a preferred vendor, whence many of the offerings constituting the Puerh Royals sampler hail, who has a keen sense for storage.

Storage of this sort might be characterized as juicy.  There’s plenty of humidity and heat but neither excessive, so the underlying character of the puerh is in no way tainted.  It only brings out the best that each production has to offer.  Storage of this type would understandably be classified as dry because dry storage has no humid notes.  However, the range of dry storage is wide.  Besides variations in humidity there are variations in temperature.  Cool and dry storage obviously transforms quite slowly.  Dry and hot storage transforms quickly but at the expense of aroma.  Hot and dry storage also accentuates a perfumy-dryer-sheet-type expression that would otherwise transform into wicked camphor explosiveness.

Different cakes under the same conditions may also transform quite differently depending on product compression.  There’s also air flow.  Juicy storage checks all the boxes in terms of having everything necessary to be perfect.  The second even a hint of humidity is detected, it’s no longer juicy but humid, no matter how light that humidity might be.  Humidity is clearly a matter of preference with similar gradations.  The point here is to just distinguish juicy from humid.

Yiwu Gratitude has juicy storage.  It allows for maximum appreciation of what Gratitude TF is throwing down, and what they’re throwing down is every bit as good as the cake looks.

The Yiwu Gratitude Factory opened their doors in 2004.  They primarily craft raw cakes from wild material, using traditional of sun drying and stone pressing procedures.  The Puerh Junky’s Yiwu Gratitude features a wrapper that’s a cross between two productions listed in the 2007 Pu-erh Yearbook.

This is the exact same production being offered from the following year.  Instead of the title including qiaomu  as with the PJ offering, it’s included in the the green strip to the right.  The block lettering at the bottom is identical to the YWG.  The flanking blocks, the right stating raw puerh and the left ten great tea mountains are identical with both cakes.

This ’07 Banwei includes mingqian springtips in green lettering to the far right, whereas this data is included in the green strip with the PJ listing.  The Banwei and the YWG have the same neifei, whereas the Yiwu from ’07 is more generic.

Here’s the PJ’s Yiwu Gratitude for comparison’s sake.

The use of traditional to describe their way of doing things, goes beyond just the pressing.  They wrap their tong traditionally as well.

The super traditional tong are branded with the name at the top.  They don’t go that far, as you can see:

At the bottom of this sticker, the phrase mingqian springtips is included.  As mentioned in the original listing, wispy Yiwu effect notwithstanding this is legitimately “springy.”  It’s one of the most floral Yiwu productions I’ve tasted.  There’s more “spring” to it than the Dragon, which is comparable in terms of the type of floral expression.  It could be described as having an apricot cum grapefruit nature.  It isn’t lilac, honeysuckle, jasmine or any of those other really loud perfumy florals, which at fifteen years of age aren’t that bad anyway.

But wait!  There’s more.  That more is the hallowed root beer, which to be honest is much more cream soda here, as there’s no spice to emerge just yet.  This type of offering usually doesn’t go the spice route.  That’s fine.  The creaminess and richness is good enough.

Yiwu Gratitude is sweet and durable.  All of the attributes that are evident from the outset last throughout the life of the tea session.  That includes the sweetness.

Lifting the Lid on Tinned Puerh

Posted on by Yang-chu
09 May

Lifting the Lid on Tinned Puerh marks an episode in the puerh storage saga of the Puerh Junky.  About a year ago, I took a few productions and placed them in various vessels, some tins, some glazed caddys, and others in porcelain.  Seals on the vessels varied in tightness and material.  The main reason for this experiment had to do with a desire to hasten transformation and adjust for what I noticed to be a bit of drop off in the pizazz primarily of the Fohai.  Altogether, I placed about five different productions in five different vessels and then proceeded to compare the performance of the vessel-stored productions against the cakes.  The caddies are stored mostly in the door of the dead refrigerator, which seems close to ideal.

 

Findings: May 2022

After better than a month with the lit removed, the Fohai was back to its original sparkle.  Notable for the Cherry Blossom was greater sweetness and a stronger fruit nose.  All of the items improved from removal of the lid with the actual vessel being of no discernible significance.  The exception being the items stored in porcelain.  None of the porcelain-stored treasures had their lids removed because they did not exhibit the same undesired tendencies.  If anything they got better.

It’s difficult to say that any of the the tinned have aged appreciably more than their respective cakes.  What can be said, however, is that their performance is noticeably better than the cakes.  Whether lid-free tinning produces appreciably better effects than setting the cake out for a few days before drinking probably depends on the production itself and the conditions in which the tea sets out.  It’s my suspicion that the Fohai probably fares better in the tin than if it were just set out, but this is merely a hunch.

Puerh Junky Discusses Peacocks

Posted on by Yang-chu
06 May

Puerh Junky Discusses Peacocks because in the course of searching for interesting Xinghai productions, the Peacock comes up often.  Well, while looking at interesting pictures I clicked upon a site heretofore unknown to me that serves up a bevy of interesting articles.  One of them read An Explanation of the Banzhang Ecological Big Cabbage, and Peacock Series; Banzhang Old Tea Big and Small Cabbage (班章生态茶之大白菜·孔雀系列详解！班章老茶之大小白菜！).

In it, the role of the founder of Jindafu, He Baoqiang, is discussed in light of the emergence of the “organic” and “green” certifications.  These certifications were marked by a cabbage seal.  Long story short, the Banzhang shengtai materials that Mr He produced in cooperation first with Menghai TF and subsequently Xinghai became known as Big Cabbage and Peacock, the former because of the certification insignia and the latter the wrapper.

Big Cabbage Insignia

Now it may be just a coincidence but if it is, that sir name He seems to be extremely common among the well-regarded puerh.  Curiously, the pricey Fujin also has a similar Dayi and Xinghai history and their founder also bears the sir name He.  There is also a Mr He Shihua who is recognized as a tea meistro who is commissioned in the making of a few productions, has productions listed in the Puerh Yearbook, and has even ascended to the level of having some of those productions faked.

Here, copycatting must be distinguished from fake.  One of He Shihua’s production line is unmistakable, featuring red traditional Dai tribal script along a white backdrop.  I acquired one such production, not because of any He Shihua awareness at the time, but because it was from Gupuer, a factory I follow.

Here, we have a copycat because Mr He’s name doesn’t appear on the wrapper and the GPE logo is emblazoned within the ring of bazhong.  Fakes, also known as tiepai, don’t have their own logo.  Years later when I stumbled upon Mr He through searches on Fujin, I ran into this wrapper without any logo but essentially similar enough to create confusion were one haphazardly scouting for He’s productions.  This doesn’t entirely resolve the matter.

From its early days, GPE commissioned some heavy hitters in the production of offerings, sold during the early naughts under the bazhong wrapper.  It is quite plausible that the wrapper above from ’13 is actually a reflection upon both their Zhongcha and He Shihua history.  The jury is still out.  This is a huge but worthwhile digression as wrappers are often telling a story that eludes those of us with only a scad of knowledge about the history.  Here we’ll depart from the He part of the discussion to address a couple peacocks in the Puerh Junky Collection: the BZ Peacock and the Peacock Brick.

BZ Peacock and Peacock Brick

The BZ Peacock’s real name is BZ Old Tree.  If you recall the opening paragraph about the title referenced, the name BZ Old Tree should ring a bell.  The name BZ Peacock was only given to reference the wrapper, but clearly Xinghai was varying a theme in which it played no small role in developing.  Xinghai has quite a few of these peacocks from this era. Here’s a pic of the one most highly prized, the Banzhang King:

The presentation here is iconic Xinghai.  The peacock is an image that is used by several other factories, Xiangming and Du Qiongzhi’s Pengcheng to name just two.  The center varies from one factory to the next and you can see Xinghai’s logo in this one.  Usually, the images will read Peacock Country at the bottom.  It’s the Puerh Junky’s guess that this Peacock Country logo references the Dai hill tribe/nationality, but this is only a guess.

Here’s the same icon but at the bottom reads Silver Peacock, the name of the production. It doesn’t appear that in terms of the vaunted peacocks that ripes factor at all.  That makes sense, as ripes by and large are not taken very seriously no matter how good or expensive they become.

’06 BZ Peacock

At least some of the vaunted peacocks are noted for possessing a smoky character.  In fact, it appears that these were the productions that put smoke on the map, something that seems strange since Xiaguan is known for their smoky offerings.  Perhaps it has something to do with smoky productions from Banzhang and the Bulang region more broadly.

Factoring greatly into the fame of the peacocks has to be qi, though I’ve not read anything about this.  When the name Banzhang comes up instantly there are expectations, positively none which interest the Puerh Junky.  Once queried about whether I thought the BZ Peacock had real BZ, I replied that I didn’t care because I only got it for the wrapper from a factory I follow.  It should be noted, however, that among those who have tasted it and are not inclined to comment upon the qi, remarks were volunteered about how “warming” it was.  Onto the brick.

Recent discoveries on the vaunted peacocks has afforded the Puerh Junky even greater appreciation for Liming’s Peacock Brick, which bears neither the shengtai nor gushu additions.  There’s no reference to BZ either.  It does have the smoke, however.  It also possesses great sweetness, texture, and durability that distinguishes it from most ripe bricks.  The smoke is not heavy and there’s no char effect.

Here’s a write up on my qi experience with the Peacock brick.  I originally picked it up in ’15 and after the few I had for offer were snatched up by one buyer, more was purchased in ’19 at more than twice the ’15 price.  Perhaps the peacock craze started to sift down into other factories beyond Dayi and Xinghai.  After my readings, I decided to check the box for any telltale signs tying it to “the peacocks.”

Little Cabbage Insignia

There it is.  The haloed cabbage insignia, the independent verification of being a “green product,” which certifies legit production and environmental standards but not the soil, a step down from but often a stage toward organic.  In short, this little Peacock Brick checks all the boxes for being a legit peacock.

Wrap up

Aside from tasting for yourself, this post should go quite a distance in shedding light upon the subject of famous peacocks from the naughts.  A nice tidbit on the origins of the Jindafu and Mr He Baoqiang tied in Xinghai’s role in the formation of a now legendary series copied far and wide.  Finally, Liming got its two-cents worth in as to why it at least deserves a seat at the table among its more celebrated relatives.

Puerh Junky Reform School

Posted on by Yang-chu
28 Apr

Puerh Junky Reform School is a post that is sure to leave many a puerh enthusiast crestfallen.  No. It’s not about reforming tattoo and piercing hipsters from the notion that that oolong-processed “gu-shu” from ’19 is puerh;  rather it’s about how the Puerh’s Junky continues to get schooled by some real late bloomers.  The reader is left crestfallen because his junkiness deigns to make out like his irascibility has been earned by developing a reservior of knowledge, while it becomes ever clearer that it is simply his posturing.

Those ’07s Turn 15

First of all we should start with those much disparaged Zhongcha ’07s, which turn 15 this year ’22.  Whereas treasures like the Thick Zen and Water Blue Mark blossomed two or three years ago, the same could not be said about the likes of the Pig, the Blue Mark Iron Cake, HK Returns Iron Cake, or Beijing Olympics.  Among these, certainly the the Pig continued to beg the question:  “Why or how could it be possible for the makers to produce such a crappy tea”?

Against my better judgement, I opened the Pig up a few weeks ago.  What a difference!  There’s no need to go into the gory details.  The takeaway is what’s important: that is many flat, boring, or crappy productions are simply not what you think they are and only time will reveal their secrets.  This boils down to processing, a subject that many including myself have discoursed upon a great deal.

’07 Pig, ZC

Whether the the old-school processing methods are better than the new-school ones is going to boil down to preference, intention. . . and disregard for the the time variable.  If one intends to store the newly processed ones, then it’s anyone’s guess what the results will be, compounded by the complexities of storage conditions.

Pig 2016

Pig 2022

I nearly destroyed my silver needle storing it among the raws, and similarly catastrophic results developed with a couple tasty Nahan, Lincang cakes.  It is clear that those puppies require a great deal more air than traditionally processed puerh.  Any fears that air will cause the treasure to lose its aromatic intensity and pizazz should be laid to rest.  The opposite is true.

’18 Nahan

Nahan 2018 Shot

The pinkishness to the hue of that pic is obvious.  Evidently, this is supposed to mean “glory.”  The material is no doubt good, but creatures of this sort are raised in the same pen as the Pig.

As market demand has driven demand for more puerh that can be drunk now increases, it appears that some of the newer methods have creeped into even how Zhongcha is making some of the older productions.  If the Lunar Series serves as any indication, we see that compression at the very least is one of the differences.  This in itself may be sufficient for allowing quicker transformation, but there’s more.

For example, there’s a huge difference in appearance between the of the ’07 Pig and the ’14 Horse.  Wholeness and choppness is going to impact the final result.  Ostensibly the Pig and Horse recipes are the same, comprised of primarily Lincang material with some Menghai thrown in.  However, the sweetness has already started to emerge with the Horse despite being seven years younger than the Pig.  They’ve both been stored here in Los Angeles for about the same amount of time.  It seems unlikely that this difference could be chalked up exclusively to compression, though it is imaginable that both required somewhere around the same amount of storage time under Los Angeles conditions to blossom, seven years.  Still, the Puerh Junky’s hunch is that there’s changes in processing that are driven by the market.

Pig w/ neifei and neipiao modesty

Horse brazenly immodest

The Lincang villages not including Mengku and Fengqing specialize in fruity expressions that are sweet very early.  This is due to processing.  However, old-school Zhongcha productions comprised of Lincang material are no more expressive at a young age than those from Yiwu.  The differences depend not in terroir but upon the ones processing the maocha, just how much they feel they can reasonably cook the tea without losing the intrinsic character.  Obviously, some have assumed a devil-may-care attitude knowing that the drinker hasn’t any inclination to store the production, so they cook the hell out of it. . . or is that into it?

Wrap-up

This confession has gone long enough.  I can think of at least three different productions that have been stored since before ’16 from the ’07ish time period that didn’t blossom till this year, all from different factories with varying measures of market cache.  Some of these productions are still not ready but do benefit from a good deal of cooking.  My experience with some of the Lincangs that have specialized in sweet processing longer than other regions is that they require different care from the old-school productions.  Even here, however, it seems that the craft tends toward more conservative processing the more special the production.  That is to say, real Xigui and Bingdao won’t get the fire of less recognized villages and even they will require some wait of a year or two.  That’s another reform school lesson for another time.  By the way, have you paid your tuition?

 

 

 

Puerh Perplexity

Posted on by Yang-chu
06 Mar

Can you help a Puerh Junky out?  The Puerh Junky finds himself twisted in knots over what it means when one says “They don’t care for factory productions.”  Does that mean they don’t like recipes?  Maybe it means they like young productions.  Perhaps it means they only go for small factory productions.

As you’ve already discerned, the Puerh Junky is clueless.  He’s read of famous puerh vendors who’ve bought tea here and there, only to take it to be processed at reputable factories.  What does it mean to not be a fan of factory teas?

Factories often have so many selections, styles, and grades.  Even if it means not caring for a particular house style, this still confounds.  House styles vary, so it’s impossible to speak of factory productions as a monolith, unless there is some elusive trait that they all share.  It is true that among the factories emerging on the scene since the late 90s that they overwhelmingly descend from the Menghai TF.  Still, these meistras and masters bring their own touch to productions and are frequently commissioned to oversee special offerings by vendors.  What on earth is “the factory style”?

Maybe it’s the pressing and aesthetics, but pretty much all productions since ’14 have gone the way of Yiwu in making their teas look pretty. . . except for recipes.  This leads back less to factory productions per se than to production styles of a particular era.  Even so, there are plenty of old Yiwu offerings hailing from the factories that are gorgeous.

Maybe it’s the quality, but this is a very tricky matter, especially if one is tasting a five-year old recipe and expecting it to taste like a similarly aged production from some Lincang village.  “Factories” have been offering more and more of these type of selections, and the question begs to what degree these bear the classical factory traits.  As the market has evolved, offerings and production styles have evolved.  Surely, these factors enter into the calculus of one who doesn’t like “factory productions.”

The best bet is that “factory” is shorthand for “recipe.”  Certainly, “8582” doesn’t have the curb appeal of say, Cosmic Bitch Slap or Orgasmic Shortcake both with histories reaching as far back as 2016.  Are these even puerh, really?  And how is it possible to have any reasonable clue about a five-year old recipe?

Now before casting the Puerh Junky as an inveterate curmudgeon, understand that he likes a young production as well.  However, it seems that age is the crux of puerh.  Only factories have productions old enough to determine the spirit of an offering.  Factory productions come from a lineage that is true to either the region or school or both.  What you end up getting then is a factory’s rendering, not dissimilar to the differences in pianists playing Schubert.  Such renderings make it nigh impossible to be categorically dismissive without sounding a smidge inexperienced.

Ox 6FTM Retrospective

Posted on by Yang-chu
06 Mar

Let’s take a journey, an Ox 6FTM Retrospective if you will.  It’s the ’09 offering in the 6FTM Zodiac/Lunar Series.  The Puerh Junky is in possession, covetously I might add, of them all, though some have never been touched.  If memory serves, the Ox may have been the first in the series acquired back in ’15.

The Ox is the first year of the series that was moderately pressed.  It was also wet-stored.  Here’s a shot from 2016.


Here’s a shot from 2020.

That foto includes the pot reserved for floral productions.  It’s 150ml.  The pour is fairly slow, so I go with less leafage, perhaps about five grams.  Here’s a shot from 5 March ’22, evening sesh.  It’s actually as dark it looks.  I was shocked.

Yeah, it’s a bit blurry.  Opening infusions are very smooth.  There’s something quite genteel to it in contrast to the Rat and Pig.  Here’s a couple shots from the morning, 6 March 2022.  The first about 15s and the second a good push of a minute or so.

Nice sparkle, matched in taste.

Light doesn’t catch the same here.  Same clarity actually.  Not as floral as the evening before with more minerality along with tame humidity.  Here’s cashed leaves from ’16.

Here’s the same leaf action in ’22.

There you have it. The ’09 Ox, 6FTM.

Puerh Junky Visits BZ Peacock

Posted on by Yang-chu
04 Mar

Before going into a Xinghai rant, Puerh Junky Visits BZ Peacock, the ’06 red ring version.   There is also a “coffee” ring version, referencing the colour of the ring on the wrapper.  Its name is taken partially from the wrapper design, though it’s actual name is BZ Old Tree.

Sometime in the early naughts, Tobacco Class puerhs started to gain steam among enthusiasts.  Among them, it seems that two stood out above the others, the Big Cabbage and the Peacock.  The former is recognizable by a big green bok choi that is also synonymous with being organic and the latter is not recognizable at all given the popularity of the peacock as an enduring totem among the hill tribes of the region.  These both seemed to be first innovated by the Fujin TF, which at the outset worked and wrapped through Dayi/MHTF before moving onto Xinghai.  The wrapper of the Big Cabbage is not discernible from any other Bazhong wrapper from the era, but the price commanded would leave one truly agog.

Puerh Junky has only been gathering peacocks for wrapper appeal.  The BZ Peacock had been in his sites for some time for this reason, totally ignorant of the buzz around the peacock of the tobacco class.  I picked up my first round as a test in ’19 and when I went to get more the price more than trebled.  The search was on.

I personally pay very little attention to the names of productions.  I’m in it for the wrappers, as already stated, and factories.  Xinghai happened to be a factory with a peacock logo or name, so that’s how I happened upon them.  It started out with mostly ripes, but I slowly started exploring some of their raws.  Xinghai set sail in ’02 and in ’18 they were bought by some entity that I haven’t cared to do any research on.  Right now, that’s not so important, as the BZ Peacock is the object of discussion.

Tobacco Class productions range due largely to house and production conception.  I previously offered an unrelenting Xinghai brick for the price of dirt, which I called Lapsang Bulang.  That brick holds the distinction of being THE smokiest and most carefully crafted brick ever encountered.  The leaves were big and whole.  The brick broke apart easily with the leaves in tact.

That’s a Jul 2000 shot, which the program won’t let me caption without creating mayhem in the layout.  In any event, Lapsang Bulang is serving as a foil to demonstrate what the BZ Peacock is not.  BZ Peacock’s smoke is more like incense.  There is a whiskey, tequila oak-stored quality about it.

Before getting more into the drinking, something should be said about how remarkably unrefined this production is.  It’s really the quintessence of the old-school factory style: hard pressed, ugly, and chunky.  Prying leaves is a joke.  This is a Menghai/Bulang creation and elegance in pressing at this time did not figure.  Don’t look for that Yiwu elegance here.

This rougueness carries over into the presentation, sorta.  Thoughts of drinking this makes me cringe a bit.  It doesn’t have that in-your-face smoke.  In fact, it’s not the smoke at all that elicits the fear.  It’s the qi.  Maybe it was “one of those days,” but even from the second cup of the first infusion earlier this week absolute oppression occurred.  I guess you could say like whiskey or tequila.

Below is what it looks like from the rinse.  There’s zero humidity.  There’s no Guangdong.  There’s positively no humidity.  The rinse, yeah I’ll drink the rinse, has a bit of sour and smoke, and surprising sweetness.  Already, I feel it and a sense of dread comes over me.  Only one cup. The pic show’s crystal clear now.  It instantly gets my throat.  Must be the day, as I have no prior recollection of that.  The sour note in taste and aroma are the most interesting traits.

Rinse

After the leaves have woken, the pot has a sour, mesquite, and Redman Tobacco sweetness aroma, in that order.  I toss the rinse, as I want to last and upon standing am already feeling it. Only one cup!  I decide on 10s in the bell pepper pot, even though earlier in the week I flash infused infused in gaiwan to proper results.  I’ll modify later but am going for a more forceful experience this time, though am using less leafage, 6.7g in 150ml.

I don’t think I’ll last more than four rounds.  I keep thinking of the Simao “A”, which I’ve learned was crafted by another tea meistra Wang Xia.  The BZP has the taste is of pure tequila without the volatile distraction of the alcohol.  There’s an exquisite note of vanilla which finishes the sip.  The taste is smooth in the mouth.  Surprisingly sweet.  It’s not too much time, an appropriate first infusion. The vanilla is definitely winning major points.  The brew is not in the least crude, at least at this point. With devil may care attitude I have another cup and pour another, but now I’m definitely feeling it in my head and chest.

Infusion 1

I’m not sure I can go on.  I think there’s a feeling of anxiety coming on, though I’m not the anxious type.  The sensation in the chest and head aren’t fun.  I feel dread.  I honestly can’t go on.  My hands are on the shaky side.  My body tells me that’s enough.

I tap out after three cups from two infusions.  I’m going to brew a little “7588” Fuhai to settle down.

Portrait “7588”

Earlier in the week while sitting in the sun I was able to power through to about six, with gaps interspersed.  That’s when the the incense to center stage.  Also, the huigan is floral.  The smoke-fade-to-flowers sensation may be quite common, but I cannot think of any off-hand.  The floral presence in the huigan builds with each infusion.  It’s quite nice.  Cask-type productions usually carry with them a measure of bitterness and the BZ Peacock is no exception.  I went two days with this and it never bottomed out.  The incense carries throughout.  It’s a cross between these two pieces, Sylvian and Black Sabbath.  Like I said, not for lightweights.

 

 

Bada Peacock: Hot to Trot

Posted on by Yang-chu
15 Feb

This just in: As of February 2022, the Bada Peacock is Hot to Trot.  Some time ago, the Puerh Junky did a side-by-side with Hideout.  Well, the Bada has left the Hideout in the dust.  At the time of that review, the Bada had a copper twang.  It’s no longer there.

Kunming TF productions aim for Zen.  The Bada Peacock is no exception.  There’s no bitterness here, nor any astringency.  Giving the leaves a good 15m soak and there is still zero of either.

In all its Zen, one thing distinguishing the BP from some of the other KMTF/Zhongcha offerings is its complete deviation from that fruit undertone so easily associated with the flagship jiaji (甲级), i.e., Top Notch Tuo, but also evident in the HK Returns, Water Blue Mark, and emerging in the Thick Zen, and presumably to appear in the Beijing Olympics and the still very young Mangosteen, a rough customer despite being from ’07 leaves before being pressed in ’12 (As an aside, it should be noted that HK Returns cake is still in a burly phase.).

Most ZC productions from ’06-’14 do not specify region or village, as the emphasis during this era was still on recipes, mostly some combo of eastern Lincang and Menghai/Bulang.  In this regard, BP is unique. The taste is pure rock sugar.  It’s very, very, sweet and this sweetness never wanes.

Ephemeral and ineffable.  You could drink and drink the Bada Peacock trying to figure it out.  The light floral note offers a nice accent to an sugary treat that doesn’t require much thought for an offering’s that’s hot to trot.

Forever Zen Post Mortem

Posted on by Yang-chu
13 Feb

Just yesterday (12 Feb ’22), Forever Zen made its debut.  A more detailed post mortem is in order.  The ’09 Forever Zen is a dry stored offering from a longstanding vendor of mine, since ’13.  It is from them that I learned of the Banzhang Zhengshan TF, an outfit offering productions both raw and ripe of far superior value.  Remember this?


That’s the Vanilla Prince, the only raw I’ve ever seen associated with “gongting.”  Here’s a very tasty tuo with lemon notes that I’ve not been able to source but was once offered by the same vendor.

Anyway, I really can’t say enough about how much I like what they do, BZZS.  The thing is that being named “Banzhang” suggests their forte is in the region of their origins.  Years ago, Puerh Junky offered samples from a burly Jingmai (Simao) kilo brick that they offered, but this was essentially in keeping with the fuerte vibe to be expected.

Jingmai Kilo

Regions are marked not just by differences in terroir but also differences in processing methods.  That’s a topic for another discussion.  In any event, when a factory strays from their region of origins, there’s reason for caution.  For example, 6FTM’s Yiwus are incongruous with the fundamentals of Yiwu.  Thence, I was skeptical that BZZS could pull the Yiwu bit off successfully.

This skepticism proved unwarranted.  Everything about the Forever Zen is quintessentially Yiwu, in this case Manzhuan.  That’s the blue stamp below specifying Manzhuan along with their literally fire-branded signature.

They went full traditional here opting for the bamboo ties as well.

They’re not monkeying around here.  No flash or glitz.  If I didn’t know this factory, I would have easily moved onto a flashier peacock or commemorative wrapper.  This no frills conception carries over onto the spartan neifei.

I just spent the last month reading though the blog of a prominent blogster who is to bitter and astringent as I am to root beer.  However, the blogster seems to confuse personal preference for tea quality.  This is an egregious tasting flaw.  As noted on more than one occasion, my personal preferences don’t cloud my ability to assay a production’s quality on its own terms.  I certainly do not use bitterness and astringency as a basis for forecasting what a production will become.  Furthermore, I have great reserve regarding any opinion that cannot clearly differentiate between bitter and astringent.  As far as I’m concerned, such a gaff is the equivalent of not knowing the differences between “your” and “you’re.”

As Chinese are wont to do when conveying truths, there’s an aphorism that goes,

  班章为王，易武为后

trans. Banzhang is this the king and Yiwu is the queen

These prefatory statements relate directly to Forever Zen, which is as queeny as you can get.  Here’s the deal, there’s a reason why all the six famous tea mountains are in Yiwu.  When the Qing (1644-1911) envoy, whose name eludes me, was dispatched to the southern tributary of Nanzhao in the late 17th-c to scope out the good stuff, he was looking for productions that jived with the genteel tastes of the Qing court.  Burly Menghai/Bulang/Banzhang offerings wouldn’t make their mark till the late Republican era (1912-1948) and early PRC when the outlook on life was “bitter.”

Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, let’s proceed further to Forever Zen, which hearkens to the age of gentility.

Infusion 10-11

Gentility doesn’t preclude qi.  Day one, in which I got in seven infusions, the experience reminded me of swimming in the farm pond in my backyard in Iowa, where pockets of swirling warmth commingled amidst the cooling waters.  This warming sensation swirled in spots, from the gut, to the skin, followed by a veil of heaviness, then back to a swirl in the gut.

Infusions 12-13, 15s

Despite the lack of any real astringency, it’s both cheeky and throaty.  In particular, the throatiness lasts for better than 15m.

Infusions 14-15, 25s

On day two I gave myself permission to stop after infusions 16-17.  Sure the quality had tapered a bit.  Unfortunately, I don’t recall the mouthfeel, as I was so high, smashed in fact.  Day two was much headier than day one.  By then I was up to 45s.