Milk Tea II

Milk Tea II follows upon the piece introducing milk tea’s inspiration.  As promised, here’s the recipe.  The creation has been an ever-evolving project.  If you’re not playing with your food, then what are you doing?

Milk Tea– The Early Days

I’m not using milk, but coconut cream from Indonesia. Taking one from the West here, i.e., Mongolia and Tibet. . . some Indian accents clove, cinnamon, cardamom, even a bit o’ the Americas in terms of cacao. Just a pinch or two of these.  At least a tablespoon of ghee and 2 teaspoons of grass-fed butter, 1/2 bonebroth. 13g ripe boiled in about 2litres water, along with 3g 山楂 (hawthorn) 1 piece 乌梅 (mumei).  Started whizzing in blender for 4min.  You have to remove all the chunky items before blending.

The main thought here was to add som citric acid via hawthorn and mumei to offset the effects of the oxalates in the puerh.  Just ballpark the amount of cream.

Milk Tea– Traditionale, Sorta

Phase two witnessed elimination of the hawthorn and mumei in favour of half-and-half.  Coconut cream works fabulously for creamy taste, but it doesn’t have any calcium, which is being used to bind with the oxalate.  Citrate’s mechanism differs from calcium, as the former reduces oxalate concentration while the latter affects a calcium oxalate bond that passes through the system instead of bonding with endogenous (in the body) calcium.

Add coconut cream additionally if it suits personal preference.  The cream factor along with butter is about 1/2 to 1 tea, with the other half being bone broth.  There’s positively no need to be overly rigid in measuring.  Just go by the colour of the brew and adjust accordingly.

Milk Tea– The Latest

The Mongolian milk tea makes use of millet.  I’ve got this flour used to make an African polenta called “fufu,” which is a royal mess to prepare, so much so that it’s not getting used.  This flour can be made from any grain I suppose, but I saw a plantain and a cocoyam type, purchasing both.  “Cocoyam” is called something that sounds like “fish head” in Mandarin and is made in a few dim-sum dished, though much more common in Filipino and Hawaiian cuisine.  I had to look up the alternate name that escaped me, “taro.”  It happens to be the root of the Elephant Ear plant.

So far, only the plantain flour has joined the symphony of milk tea.  I’ve read plantains are particularly high in oxalates.  Evidently processing can affect oxalate content.  Dunno of any differences when made into flour.  Test findings seem to vary widely, so the reliability of any of the data is nil.  In any event, the gist for using the flour was to add a cereal component to the tea like the Mongols.  Two heaping tea spoons added after removal of the puerh and after the spices have had a few minutes to simmer and bone broth has been added.  Seems like giving the flour a little bit of a cook is a good idea to transform the flour-y taste to something else, though I haven’t just adding in the blender.  This addition kicks up the creamy thickness factor to a very high level.

Additionally, Chinese dates were added to the mix at the blending stage AFTER pitting.  Five dates added a nice bit of sweetness without being too sweet.  Chinese dates though sweet have about 1/4 the sweetness of dates from the desert of California or N. Africa.  Also the taste profile is much more like a dried apple than whatever it is that palm dates taste like.

Wrapping Up

Milk tea comes to us by way of our Western friends in Tibet, Xinjiang, and Mongolia.  Each place varies how they make it.  Recently, I saw the tea being made in Kazak- or Uzbekistan with green brick tea.  This is how the Mongols seem to do it as well, though the Tibetans favour using ripe puerh.  There also seems to be some seasonal variation, i.e., green for summer and more oxidized tea in the winter.

The focal point of the milk tea recipies offer above is first the ripe puer and second fat, usually in the form of cream and butter, though pork lard or beef tallow have been used quite often.  Salt is not added in any of these recipes, as that is covered through use of boths that have already been salted, along with salted butter.  The ratio is about 1 part puerh to one half broth and another half cream.  The brew is not spiced heavily, though they add a nice balancing accent to the overall composition, just a pinch of clove, two pinches cinnamon, and three cardamom pods.  Three pinches of cacao into the blender works dandy.

The milk free version with hawthorne and mumei is fine but requires a fair amount of brewing, while the milk version calls for adding after the tea has been brewed.  Flour, I used plantain, adds a sinfully rich texture to brew.  I wouldn’t avail myself of this option too often as it will tend to pique the appetite, while the flour-free creation works well as satisfactory meal in itself, even more so with the milk-free version.  Finally, the sweet version can be used with any type of sweetner, palm dates, Chinese dates, raisins or even prunes.  The concoction works best with what you already have on hand.  There’s no need to go through any great extravagance, with the possible exception of the coconut cream.

Milk Tea

For kicks I started drinking milk tea.  This summer, I’ve been pondering the phenomenon of people’s adverse gastric responses to tea. It boils down to the anti-nutrients in plants, a misfortune calling into question the vaunted benefits of polyphenols, catechins, and tannins. Not the least of these anti-nutrients is oxalates. Oxalate receives great attention among those who’ve suffered from kidney stones.  Kidney and gallstones are anecdotally becoming more common given the popularity of certain nondairy and nongluten alternatives that are chock full of oxalates. Here’s some data that makes some preliminary forays into this matter.

Food is quite personal.  People don’t like to have their style cramped.  The matter becomes even touchier when challenging conventional wisdom.  Afterall, knowing what we know because that’s what we’ve been told should be sufficient especially when the majority of experts are in agreement.  I mean if you cannot trust experts, then whom can you trust?  If plants aren’t our friends, then how ever shall we reduce our carbon footprint and save the unquestionably globular oblate spheroid from the unrepentant binarians?

Curiously, I recently had a run in with a friend on this matter of oxalates.  He relayed an uncommon situation in the dental office involving bony growths, a phenomenon perhaps replicating something with his knee since a teenager.  Friend eats very generous amounts of high oxalate food: spinach, almonds, chard etc.  His favs.  We could chalk his predicament up to something genetic.  I don’t see why not, but that seems like only part of the equation.  The stones formed in the kidney are no different from the phenomenon of pseudo-gout (bone formations from oxalates as opposed to uric acid) or some forms of arthritis.  We shouldn’t rush to conclusions, but we can also exercise a modicum of reason based upon dietary habits.

Much of the scientific data surrounding the benefits of plants are based on unproven assumptions. The vast majority of positive plant research findings are on rats. Ethical standards, time, and costs primarily limit studies to rats. Though rats are mammals, their natural diets and metabolism are not entirely analogous to humans. Therefore, it requires a leap of faith to conclude that rat studies translate to humans.  What we really need is more dolphin, monkey, and volunteer prisoner studies preemptively declared safe-and-effective by dint that the very trustworthiness of science depends upon it.

Suppose, for argument’s sake, we grant that findings in rats can be applied to humans. Does that mean that the unstated assumptions surrounding such findings have a leg to stand on? By way of example, founder of the PCR test for which he won the Nobel Prize Kerry Mullis relays in his book Dancing Naked in the Mind Field an incident involving a speaking engagement on behalf of a very prominent pharmaceutical company (a safe-and effective pharmaceutical outfit I might add) for an anti-viral medication they were promoting. Mullis asked said company for the research data proving that a certain virus was the cause of said condition.  No research was forthcoming.  To this day no such research exists, but evidence (or the lack thereof) is meaningless in the face of conventional wisdom, not to be confused with relentless marketing and psychological terror campaigns.  Only the non-democratic types stoop so low.

Good ole conventional wisdom is not permanently etched in stone.  That’s what we call scientific progress.  Many clinicians, surgeons, and researchers are beginning to chip away at the conventional wisdom surrounding cholesterol, for example.  This is quite interesting because it potentially pulls the proverbial rug from under all of the supposed plant benefits.  In short, even if olive oil, green tea, and acai lower cholesterol, it doesn’t mean that low cholesterol is a good thing.  Most working assumptions around the purported benefits of plant molecules are largely based upon epidemiological studies biased by policy directives. Epidemiological studies are interesting but they do not constitute proof; they are not controlled and can only serve as basis for conjecture. For example, if we take data surrounding Japanese tea consumption, we may attribute it to why Japanese live as long as they do or to their significantly higher stomach cancer rates. The outcomes may be due to their eating lots of fish or maybe general affluence.  There is no way of knowing without controls.

With this knowledge about anti-nutrients in tow, perhaps we can gain fresh perspectives on some of the thinking behind the processing of tea in general or why those in HK consider young raw (traditionally processed) puerh poison.  Traditional food preparation methods and combinations no doubt play some part in mollifying the effects of anti-nutrients, though traditional rationales are not likely to express such practices in terms of anti-nutrients. Bean soaking, for instance, demonstrably catabolizes phytates and lectins.  However, soaking has negligible effect upon reducing oxalate.  Aging is known to have a catabolizing effect upon tannins, phytates, catechins and other polyphenols.  Alas, the same cannot be said for oxalates.

Maybe the whole issue is much ado about nothing, but if it were nothing then the phenomenon precipitating this query would be too rare to have sparked interest in the first place.  Still, more research is needed.  Reducing emergent (emergent in the sense that the sensitivity develops after a few years) tea intolerance solely to oxalates may prove lacking in necessary nuance.  With nutrition and human physiology, this is most often the case.  Most of the data surrounding oxalates involves kidney stones. However, the issue is by no means confined just to kidney stones.  Anyway, this oxalate issue in addition to awareness of the Silk Road pastoralists’ fancy for milk tea is what spurred me into making my own.  I’ll share more on my own brew later.

Spring Ripe Puerh Taste Off III

Spring Ripe Puerh Taste Off III presents us with another four contenders chosen at random.  Needless to say, all stables are bristling with excitement to see just how the judges with regard their students.  Side-by-side battles provide the best contrast for assaying the performance of ripe puerh.  It provides a context for not only determining whether a student is better but also precisely why.  Of course, tastes vary but comparison provides deeper insight into the creator’s execution.  Let’s proceed. . .

Ripe Puerh Taste Off Day III

  • ’07 Boss Square, GPE (Wang Xia)
    Resolute aroma in warmed dry pot, camphor, vanilla, sweet, spectacular clarity, present aftertaste.
  • ’06 Peacock Country, Liming
    Sweetness, light bitter backend, light camphor more bold at cooler temp, wood, incense, slight sour, long aftertaste, red hots, blue cheese, light astringency.  Gorgeous.
  • ’06 BZ Peacock King, LME
    Aromatic in warmed dry pot, heavy essence, roast, camphor, drying, very strong qi, woody, oud.
  • ’10 Sweet Richness, Yangpinhao
    Petrichor, coco, vanilla, minerals, rich aroma, very sweet initially, smooth reaching throat, fast-arriving qi insanely aggressive, baby powder, dash of sour huigan.

Ripe Puerh Taste Off Day III featured some very heavy hitters.  The biggest surprise was definitely Liming’s Peacock Country, part of the Ripe Sampler Group 1.  It was acquired from a Henan seller and has taken better than two years to round into form.  There’s still some astringency deeper into the session suggesting about two more years of storage before becoming a high-ranking sumo.  Having it side-by-side among some award-winning productions shed deeper insights into just how good it is.

Sweet Richness is also no slouch.  Baby powder is a taste appearing at about 10 years in some higher quality ripes.  It’s so chock full of “stuff” that its oils have bled through to the wrapper.  Still, compared to its competitors, there’s an obvious immaturity.  Given the qi it’s all ready paralysing drinkers with, it’s frightening to imagine the future.  This brings us to the last two. . .

Both the Boss Square and the BZ Peacock King are excellent productions.  Tasting samples for the day are placed on the table and revisited toward the end of the day.  This ultimately tipped the scales in BZ Peacock King’s favour.  Experimentation has revealed that many productions respond remarkably well to sitting out for a few days.  During the current Taste Off, none of the ripes have sat out before the event, but a brewed cup sitting out over the course of the day may actually shed light into which productions would benefit most from sitting out.  What was found in the cup of the BZPK corroborates findings from having it out for about three days.

Puerh Junky Under Dynamic Moon(cake)

Puerh Junky Under Dynamic Moon(cake) attempts to capture a Sunday-morning moment.  It involved the notorious Puerh Junky and a Menghai ripe in The Collection since ’16, the Mooncake.  Here the focus is on the word “dynamic.”  Much digital ink has been spilled over both this offering and its maker, Yangpinhao YPH.  No need to go there.  Today, it’s about “capturing”, “focusing”, and “dynamism.”  Nonetheless, a tale of the tape is in order.

The ’12 Mooncake is a 200g square, embossed with the fancy YPH logo.  As of ’23 it’s 13yo.  In light of the absence of any petrichor or other humid notes, it’s fair to call it dry-stored; but it’s not dry.  It’s hard to put a finger on how it’s evolved over time.  The silty mouthfeel for certain has diminished, as has the baby powder fragrance.  In its place, perhaps more incense and dark chocolate.  A perfume character has held steady throughout the years

It changes much during the session.  The huigan is the star.  Here is where a mélange of taste sensations come through.  Wood prevails, if that tends toward oak or sandalwood is going to depend upon the drinker.  There’s sourness, wood sour that lingers, but not sharply.  Everything about the experience is refined.  A glassy quality in the broth remains throughout, but as it cools more chocolate milk notes appear. At room temp, it’s pure squeeze bottle Hershey’s without the milk, drizzled over sandalwood powder, topped with half a cherry.  It’s not fruity, but there’s a dash in there to add to the artistry.  There’s quite a bit of vanilla.

This is not they type of ripe that is going for ripe thickness.  Pushing in the early infusions frankly will only ruin the refinement.  There’s certainly no need to push to get the feeling.  The qi is exceptional.  It’s a real nape-necker that spreads along the traps to the back of the arms, another wave up to the ears, eliciting stretches that advance to headrush, Ultraman hand gestures and imaginings, before the urge to seriously lay down, yawns, itchy eyes.  Super, duper relaxing.  No inkling of unsettled feeling in the chest.

Mooncake has entered its next stage of development.  Does this place it in company with the light-fermented ripes that age out over time to approximate raws?  Perhaps, but there’s no raw that I’ve ever tasted that is this dark.  For fun, the thought occurred to compare Mooncake with the Langhe Ripe Tuo, since both have pronounced wood notes.

  1. Mooncake is much more “floral” or “perfume.”  The perfume note of the Mooncake is its most distinguishing feature.
  2. Mooncake has a much fruitier nose in the late infusions, day two.
  3. LHT is sweeter.
  4. Mooncake is more bitter.
  5. Mooncake’s huigan is perfume and late infusions enter the baby powder zone.
  6. Both achieve best results when brewed as if raws, meaning extended infusion times at outset are not ideal.
  7. LHT is much more sour than the Mooncake.
  8. LHT has a smoky hickory finish that’s like bacon.
  9. Mooncake tastes heavier.

Instagram shots.

 

 

PJ Goes From Peacock to Crow

PJ Goes From Peacock to Crow has to do with the much-discussed “new processing” of puerh.  “New processing” makes puerh “ready” for drinking much earlier than customary.  “Ready” means sweet.  Old school processed offerings are not instantly sweet.  In fact, a decade generally tends to be the benchmark for beginning to check in on the development of a conservatively processed and stored offering.  Newly processed productions can be sweet the instant they hit the consumer market.  Instantly sweet puerh enjoys broad appeal among the plug-and-play generation of tea drinkers.

Purists will say that this new processing is not puerh.  It’s anyone’s guess how these avant-garde offerings will transform, a question of next to no importance for a plug-and-play tea drinker but central in the mind of the puerh collector.  It’s worth noting that casting the differences as night and day between the two processing approaches mischaracterizes a technique involving creativity and skill.  For certain, fast sugar expression comes at a cost to potential transformative complexity, but the same can be said of heavily stored puerhs where the heat and humidity burn away puerh’s underlying character in favour of putrefaction and dankness.

Since there there are no hard and fast standards for defining puerh beyond coming from Yunnan Province, tea makers are free to innovate or preserve tradition as they see fit.  For puerh purists, the presence of green tea notes is an unacceptable breach of that which defines puerh.  For others, who mainly drink very young productions from Western-facing vendors there is little frame of reference in the first place and often an inability to discern either.  Oh well.  The Puerh Junky doesn’t drink so many post-’14 productions, as even old school factories have joined the fray of new processing.  However, sometimes the quest of the old-school factories to remain relevant gets interesting as it serves as a study to see how makers straddle the line between tradition and innovation.

Zhongcha’s Dance

Zhongcha’s dance with innovation and tradition is worth visiting.  On one end of the spectrum is the Jade Mark, acquired in ’17.  The idea of it being newly processed never crossed my mind; the thought was that it hailed from Lincang, particularly the Bangdong, Bingdao area where there’s a reputation for stellar young tea.  Up until that time, there’d been no run ins with sencha grade productions, so the sweetness was largely chalked up for terroir or pickings later in the season.  Evidently, parts of Lincang have been executing the “new” shaqing for quite some time, so one doesn’t necessarily preclude the other.

In its nine years as of ’23, Jade Mark has continued to hold its own as a perfect example of either Lincang or “new processing” done very well and the reviews have always been unequivocally positive.  As a recipe production, Zhongcha is not saying what it is.  Be that as it may, as a a “gateway” puerh, Jade Mark is hard to beat, though its transformation potential remains entirely unknown. . . or nonexistent.  Perhaps over the years it’s gotten sweeter, perhaps even more bitter, expressing more of true Bulang character than in its youth.  It’s hard to say.

At the other end of the spectrum lies the Bulang Peacock from the same year.  It started much more in the vein of a traditionally processed creation before manifesting an expression found in productions at least five years older.  Vanilla and spice notes are rarely found in puerhs under eight and if they are then either the processing or storage has been ramped up.  As of May ’23, BP appears to be moving on from its spicy and vanilla expression to something more camphorated.  There are phases where it’s got a Lemony Snickets vibe going on, a Ricola taste with the vanilla only coming at the very front end.  In contrast to the Jade Mark which has shown little change, Bulang Peacock is a constantly moving target.  Such change is consistent with traditional processing, though everything seems to be happening at a quicker pace.  The vanilla and spice still express depending on just how fast one goes from one infusion to the next and there’s some serious Bulang bitterness too.  It’s captivating.

Xinghai Sweet Chariot?

During the Xinghai buying focus of 2022, Puerh Junky picked up a couple from ’15 and ’16 presumed to be newly processed.  The ’16 Golden Peacock is the second Xinghai acquisition from that year.  Here’s where the crow eating comes in because even though the grouchy junky (GJ) in me wants to hate on these insta-sweets, there’s no denying that Mme Zhang is very good, most capable at manipulating processing parameters in a way that gives the plug-and-play playa exactly what they want while not compromising the integrity of the material itself.

The Golden Peacock is sweet without being too sweet.  There’s serious substance and depth that progressively unfolds with each infusion.  What starts out as being possibly frilly frivolity moves into a very self-assured production.  Bitterness fades quickly amidst omnipresent rock sugar sweetness and fruity note.  The Golden Peacock isn’t a rookie puerh.  It’s for those who like the boldness that Xinghai tends to offer, only at about ten years earlier than usual.  It’s got fresh green vibrance, but there is no sencha or chlorophyll taste.  Furthermore, there’s a noticeable fermentation aroma in the empty pitcher which promises that it will continue to transform.

Wrap-up

Aside from its controversy, new-school puerh processing exists along a continuum from traditional to borderline oolong and sencha.  Consequently, old-school factories have many options for how they imagine the outcomes for an expanding “puerh” market.  The case of Jade Mark demonstrates a puerh where potential for transformation plays a small role.  By contrast, the Bulang Peacock, from the same year, has changed quite a lot.  As of writing in May ’23, the Golden Peacock has changed relatively little.  The ferment-y aroma is indicative of fairly traditional processing, while the sweetness is new-school all the way.

 

 

 

Another Puerh Blossom

Another Puerh Blossom directs attention to a ’12 Laoman’e production acquired in ’14 and sat upon for a total of eight years.  The Puerh Junky’s wife and I first visited one of the maker’s shops in Kunming back in ’13.  She was floored by a Jingmai offering and for about the next five years PJ made some effort toward acquiring a few of their productions.  Their web presence has diminished considerably over the years, but their shop still flourished in ’17.

In ’14 acquired offerings included Laoman‘e, Xigui, and Huangye, all from ’12  They were all about the same degree of wtf.  I didn’t know what I was tasting.  A ’10 Bingdao snagged in ’16 was equally disappointing.  The only really tasty production was a hideous looking ’07 Wuliang.  At the time I’m certain I didn’t think, well that Wuliang has had considerably more time to develop.  The Wuliang leaf material appeared considerably more rustic than usual.  The tastiness was thus attributed rusticness not age.

’07 Wuliang Yapu TF

Two years ago the ’10 Bingdao blossomed.  It is outstanding.  This year 2022, the 2012s had come into form and the Xigui started to be offered through the Lincang Sampler set.  This mid Nov day occasioned trying the Laoman’e.  The richness and sweetness are noteworthy, particularly in contrast to previous years.  The colour shows that its just at the be first stage of readiness, but it is an extremely satisfying stage.

It’s as interesting to observe the evolution of Puerh Junky’s own understanding of puerh as it is the puerh itself.  These Yapu productions were taken for decidedly second-rate, when it more accurately reflected second-rate understanding.  We’re all learning.

Xinghai Tea Factory Aiyaaa

Xinghai Tea Factory Aiyaaa momentarily gripes about food stamps.  Well, technically date stamps or the lack thereof.  Liming is bad with stamping but Xinghai is the worst.  By ’08 the problem seems to have been remedied, but between ’04-’07 the stamp situation is a disaster.

It’s not uncommon for wrappers to indicate checking either the neipiao or neifei for time stamp.  It may say check neipiao but the stamp will be on the neifei.  Quite often there is no stamp at all. On top of that is a situation where the neifei isn’t really even a part of the cake.

Well, after watching this video where the stamp was clearly absent from a neifei that looked to me as though it should have been stamped, a rant was in order.  You’re witnessing that now.  The Puerh Junky’s wife did as well.  The quandary was clear: why aren’t they stamped?  The easy response is they’re fakes.  But if it’s fake, why not go the whole nine to ensure you’re pulling one over?  Enough has already been made of just how much the fake card is overplayed.  I suspected, perhaps pilfering at the place of employ.  Ambitious employees may opt to try their hand at entrepreneurship.  Possible, but perhaps not likely.  Finally, the heavens opened.

Puerh Dating Quandary Solved

If dateless productions are not fake or the result of sly employees’ pilfering, what would dateless offerings be communicating to buyers?  “IT’S THE BATCH STUPID,” to quote a famous politician.  With some of the big time factories where collecting constitutes a significant part of the market, the first batch is that which is coveted.  Batches of the same production must be differentiated from the first in order to maintain the first’s “rarity” and value, thus the absence of a date stamp and presence of quirky anomalies with the wrapper.

What kind of quirks?  Well, for example, the first batch (pictured above) of what Puerh Junky calls the ’05 Xinghai Green Mark (the real name is just too generic, no wait is Menghai Qizibingcha generic?) bears a faded green seal, whereas the second batch seal is much more vivid. . . and lacks a date stamp.

In another example, the second batch of the Bulang Old Tree has the identical wrapper but is stamped “特制青饼” and lists with a different Xinghai production name on the reverse specs.  One vendor actually had all three versions of the wrapper, one having simplified characters, but only the first batch bearing the time stamp and being twice the price of the other two.

Stamped Second Batch

Xinghai Not So Chaotic

So Xinghai Tea Factory is not so chaotic.  It like Liming and a few others have a method to their date-stamp-free madness.  There’s a measure of coolness to such a practice.  It reflects just how seriously the factory takes itself, the exact opposite of chaos.

 

Puerh Ratings 2022

07 Peacock 9611, CNNP

Below find Puerh Ratings 2022 according to a few websites from Baidu searches.

Chinapp (品牌网)

The Chinapp derives their rankings “based on nearly 100 indicators such as brand strength, product sales, user reputation, and netizen voting.”

  1. Dayi (huge surprise. . . not)
  2. Liming (genuinely huge surprise)
  3. Zhongcha (fairly surprising, they’re referencing about the “new Zhongcha” for sure)
  4. Xiaguan
  5. Fucunmeiji (福村梅记).  This one is a huge surprise.  A few years ago, they also ranked quite highly.  At the time of that ranking 2015, Yangpinhao had their hand in the processing of Fucunmeiji’s offerings.  Dunno if that’s still the case.
  6. Longyuanhao
  7. Longsheng Puercha (龙生普洱茶)Totally unfamiliar.
  8. Laotongzhi
  9. Langhe
  10. Fuhai

Rankings (排行榜)

This is a pure rankings website that devised their ranking “according to the brand evaluation and sales volume”.  Participants in rankings appear to be fewer than 100.

  1. Dayi
  2. Liming
  3. Qingfengxiang (庆沣祥) A upper tier of Colourful Yunnan Brand
  4. Xiaguan
  5. Laotongzhi
  6. Chenshenghao
  7. Gongming (宫明) Unfamiliar est. 2014
  8. Colourful Yunnan
  9. Fuhai
  10. Lancangjiang Familiar but never tried. Est 1985

Cangpin Puerh (藏品普洱)

While the two above seem to be keen on selling tea, this site only lists three and is much more focused on the history surrounding the factories.

  1. Dayi
  2. Fujin
  3. Chenshenghao

Newest Comparison of China’s Top 10 Puerh Brands 2022

This is just an article, but worth running through the translator.  Bet you cannot guess which is #1.

  1. Dayi
  2. Xiaguan
  3. Laotongzhi
  4. Zhongcha
  5. Chenshenghao
  6. Lancang Gucha
  7. Mengku(rongshi)
  8. Douji
  9. Fuhai
  10. Liming

Puchawang (普茶网)

Seems this might have been devised in ’21 but reposted in May ’22.  Site dedicated purely to puerh tea news, articles, storage, and brewing.

  1. Dayi
  2. Xiaguan
  3. Fujin
  4. Chenshenghao
  5. Mengkurongshi
  6. Liming
  7. Laotongzhi
  8. Changtai
  9. Xinghai
  10. Zhongcha

Reflections

Clearly, Dayi commands pole position in the world of puerh.  As far as the remaining positions go, there is considerably more jockeying.  Among the sites devising a list, some are clearly more geared toward plying their wares.  This might influence what appears to be the presence of some fairly obscure brands.  Others seem to be more influenced by reputation built by the brands, adhering to traditional views among experts.  Among the five, the first two seem to be more sales oriented, whereas the last three more in the traditional camp.

No single list can be taken as gospel, but taken together one gains some idea about what consumers and experts both take seriously.  The composite picture isn’t going to change much from one year to the next.  Probably checking every five years is more than sufficient to apprehend any surprising developments.

Another thing is that it is highly doubtful that most of the lists are based upon the most recent productions.  This makes it virtually impossible for upstarts to get on the list.  Consequently, this makes the Chinapp list at least interesting in terms of introducing potentially viable fresh players.  Longsheng isn’t a new player, but their presence given their age did garner attention.

Regarding specific factories, we see Liming placing in all of the top-ten charts.  Again, it is not altogether clear why LM has the reputation it does in the English world, but at the very least it is reasonable to conclude that this view is not shared in the Mainland.  Second, Fuhai does considerably better than Xinghai, but the Puerh Junky wonders to what extent Xinghai’s processing of Fujin factors.  It just conjecture.  Finally, the Puerh Junky sees factories making a list as largely a combination of size, history, marketing, connections, and finally quality.  Tasting productions on an off the list is a bit of a lifetime project to determine how each may personally rate for you.

 

 

 

Puerh Junky Visits Langhe Ripes

Puerh Junky Visits Langhe Ripes takes a turn toward the oft neglected shu puerh.  Here the Langhe TF garners the spotlight, in particular the ’06 Peacock Tribute.  This offering has been spending its days in Los Angeles since 2014, back when I would buy onezies instead of at least threezies.  The Peacock Tribute isn’t for sale but it provides a good opportunity to talk about fermentation and storage.

Langhe is a very well regarded factory for their ripes, but don’t take my word for it here’s Scott at Yunnan Sourcing’s blurb:

  Langhe 郎河 : Langhe is a factory of Menghai 勐海 that was founded in 1995. Since then it has built a strong reputation, won awards, and has become one of Yunnan’s most renowned brands. Langhe ripe teas are the most sought after from this tea factory. Classic Langhe recipes include 9599, 9579, 9559, High Mountain Ripe, and Gong Ting Ripe. Langhe ripe teas are excellent for long-term aging because they employ traditional light fermentation “wo dui” technique. This light fermentation allows for gradual aging of the ripe teas and retain much of the character of a raw pu-erh tea.

Now it’s official.  Curiously, there isn’t much chatter about Langhe.  A quick check on the puerh group on FB for example turns up only maybe four posts.  One of them is simply of the neipiao and another conjectures about authenticity.  There’s such paralysis around fakes that people don’t get that the only productions/factories that are faked are the ones that everyone knows.  It’s simply not cost effective to fake everything.  You fake what you know will sell.  Yes.  Langhe has a strong reputation, but that’s among those who know more than Dayi, Xiaguan, and Yangqinghao.  Faking is a business decision and until quite recently where prices have made widespread faking more justifiable, it just has made no business sense to fake lesser known brands and productions.

Boss Neifei

The Peacock Tribute possessed all the attributes of a Kunming dry-stored acquisition.  However, in contrast to some of Langhe’s other ripes, it is next-level astringent.  Is this what all the “small batch” craze is about?  In any event, whereas other treasures like the ’11 Imperial Round and the ’06 East is Red came into form relatively quickly, the former in six months and the latter 18, PT had never come into something resembling form until the tasting of 12 Aug ’22.

East is Red

It’s not because it is a gongting production because so are the aforementioned.  Neither is it because it hasn’t had sufficient time, as its age is identical to the East is Red.  Nor can storage be entirely attributable to its lack of performance because all three were and are essentially stored the same.  No.  It has to do with PT‘s needs or its personality.  Now, I can see a production with little sweetness and hella astringency striking some drinkers’ fancy, especially those who like to add milk and sugar to their brew.  Unfortunately, even those drinkers might be a shade disappointed because there’s no floral note to speak of like black teas, i.e., hongcha, that take doctoring.  Anyway, if I want kind of astringency, I’ll go for Lipton.  Ripes (or raws for that matter) should not be astringent like this.  If they are, then they’re impersonating a hongcha of questionable quality.

Gongting Scene

It seems that this astringency has to do with the processing.  Langhe is known for their ripes because of their light processing, which makes for good storing and resemblance to old raws.  With the PT, it appears that they took their processing to the next-level of “light.”  Even though the most recent tasting was considerably better, a year or two of a good Guangdong punishing would do it well.  That said, let’s get onto the specifics of the session.

Knowing this tea’s personality, I decide to mitigate against the astringency by flash brewing in gaiwan, 120ml, with 5.5g.  Immediately, the Peacock Tribute possessed a sweetness that wasn’t there before.  We’re not talking heavy sweetness, but nonetheless mild and pleasant.  The flavour of walnuts prevails and there’s a light camphor note at the end that matches the sweetness.  The aroma is unpleasant.  No other words to describe it but unpleasant.  The qi is strong.  The gaiwan choice successfully tames the astringency and there isn’t much to complain about in the first infusion.  Clarity, as with all Langhes, is outstandingly gorgeous.

Subsequent infusions always possess a weirdly unpleasant aroma, which fortunately doesn’t carry over into the brew.  The sweetness continues for about six infusions never building.  The same can be said for the camphor.  Walnuts is its overriding taste.  The most outstanding qualities are clarity and qi, both ranking at a five.  The body of is light, not thin but light.

Gongting Cashed

At the end, I let the brew sit overnight to see what the morning would bring.  More of the same only lighter.  Positively no sweetness.  Overall, the experience was greatly improved through gaiwan and emergent sweetness, but it’s still very “young” given the astringency and lack of full sweetness.  Peacock Tribute will need another couple years and a move to more intense storage in approach a satisfactory stage in the Puerh Junky’s book.  Far superior offerings in a similar vein include T8371, Macau Brick, and Silver Peacock.

 

 

Puerh Junky Discusses Peacocks

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.