Japanese Export

I picked this up in KM last year, ’17. The guy selling it didn’t seem too impressed with it, saying it was some stuff for export to Japan. I guess it wouldn’t be overstating things to say that this is wet-stored. I wouldn’t call it “dank,” because I can actually drink it. You know the types who’ll drink a cup of longjing or Xigui and call it “earthy,” while you smile politely biting your tongue? Well, this is actually earthy. Dirt pure and simple.

The thing with this profile is that distinguishing between the raw and ripe productions is quite difficult. I’ve got this raw cake from ’08 that I picked up in Bangkok that tastes quite similar. I used to have a wild raw brick that was HK stored that also had this vibe. I studied the leaves carefully to determine if it was ripe tea being pushed off as raw. Who knows. The deciding factor seems to be astringency.

Is it fake? Why wouldn’t it be? It doesn’t taste like the 7581 that I’m familiar with but would the recipe change for export to Japan? 7581 is blend of raw and ripe anyway, but I doubt that if I chucked mine in a closet in Bangalore that it would end up tasting like this. The 7581 I know is less minerally, with a sweet rich breadiness. Does it taste qualitatively different from other humid productions of this sort? It tastes like its supposed to taste for this type of production, as far as I’m concerned. I try to appreciate stuff on its own terms.

It’s certainly not my fav, but I know some folks who are nuts about dirty tea, some like stinky tofu after all. I think I live with one such person.

 

Part of a ’16 series from Chamasi depicting the tea-making process. This one is entitled “Wrapping Tea.” After sitting for a year, it has thickened up. Tastes like a thick cloud with some sweetness and a fruity aroma and aftertaste.

Coming of Age: ’12 Cultural Revolution Series

Finally.  The Cultural Revolution Series 100g ripe puerh mini-bricks are ready to be enjoyed.  Until now, this production hasn’t done much for me.  Not bad, just nothing to write home about.  I know the general sense that most ripes are pretty much ready for drinking after a year or two.  That gives it sufficient time for the wodui, i.e., the fermentation smell and taste to wear off.  Wodui, however, is not the only consideration with the aging of ripes.

Some say clarity of the brew offers some indication of whether the ripe is ready.  The cloudiness seems to be an indication that microbes are still at work transforming the stuff that comes from the fermentation.  That seems plausible.  There is also the matter of tannins, which is indication of how much the oxidizing needs to happen.  Aging sweetens, softens, and develops tastes.

The Cultural Revolution Series wasn’t so clear earlier, perhaps more tannic than desirable, and definitely lacking a certain roundness.  That’s no longer the case.  You remember “moonpies” or the “choco pie,” the chocolate coated marshmallow cookie?  There you have it.  Lot’s of vanilla with a thin layer of chocolate.  It’s reminiscent of the ’12 Moon Cake by YPH without the talc and 1/2 the price.

07 Tippy Puerh Tuo

’07 “T868” Tulin. I got this back when I was in my Tulin tuo stage. Scott of YS says that Tulin productions compare favourably to XG. I’ve not run across any Tulin that have the smokiness or minerality of XG. Dunno. To my mind there is more similarity with 6GTM productions, expressing bold floral notes with astringency and bitterness.

The T868 sits somewhere between the ’06 Yinhao and the T861, where the former expresses an unmistakable Fengqing/black tea character and the latter is a perfected creation with a more deciduous forest character, imho. The aftertaste in the T868 is long lasting with more incense and wood notes coming through with later infusions.

This brings us to the matter of storage, a highly subjective matter at that. As most of us know KM storage is slow, though there are differences from one facility to the next. The advantage to these conditions is that for spring material like the T868 nothing gets lost. The production is still lively, springy. Nothing is muffled or mottled. Age has tampened the more brash aspects of a young production while the moderately cool conditions have preserved all of the florality.

This shot is from more than 2yrs ago.

Revisiting ’14 Ge Deng Dragon Pearl

The ’14 Gedeng Dragon Pearl is nothing worth writing home about.  Frankly, the taste is rather bland and when pushed, there’s an undesirable measure of bitterness that I can do without.  What stands out in its favour is a squinch of huigan and a building aftertaste that is pleasingly astringent with light honeydew notes.  That effect lasts for the better part of 10 minutes.  There is also a light pleasant aroma that vanishes in an instant. The broth is on the thin side.

Of course, we all have different takes on things.  After about 10 infusions (one that had been pushed) and after finishing up with an acupuncture session, I gave a cup of this Gedeng to a patient, an avid tea lover.  At the first sip she raved.  She had just mentioned something about a disappointing experience at her local tea shop, because the production lacked body and what she liked about this Gedeng was its body and character.  I was rather surprised.  We had three pots and it doesn’t seem anywhere near running out of gas– nor does it bottom out, meaning that it doesn’t start to turn flat or metallic.  The fruitiness is sustained in a demur way.  It’s autumn tea.

Gedeng is one of Six Great Tea Mountains thus designated during the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911).  This production possesses the classic attributes of Yiwu-region material, genteel and essentially not bitter with an intriguing huigan and aftertaste.  It performs best when brewed at around 200 degrees and infused about 15s.  This 8g Dragon Pearl was brewed in a 150ml ceramic pot.  This is a true easy drinker but one that will not leave much of a lasting impression.  The leaves nevertheless have been carefully picked and crafted.  The price reflects the craft and traditional reputation of the region.  Worthy of sampling for one seeking to learn more about Yiwu or who prefers more zen-like productions.

 

Graphite Blonde: ’06 Xia Guan Dali Tuo 150g

The Graphite Blond never lets you beneath her steely surface.  She wears a classy, inviting perfume that is a mark of style that shies from the garish.

Many Xia Guan productions try to knock you over the head with smoke or flower or rustic huzza, but the ’06 Dali Tuo is the impeccable and experienced secret agent whose poise is lasting and full.

If you last till the 12th infusion, a distinct aroma of spiced pears wafts from her.  The huigan is always fast, as the graphite fades away into a faintly bitter astringency.  Before 12, the bitter is not particularly noteworthy.

’07 Beijing Olympics, Zhongcha 357g cake

After two days of concerted digging, our excavation team reached the stratum of 2007. A veritable forest of Zhongcha productions could be found, many commemoratives too boot.  Beneath a well preserved Year of the Pig, I uncovered a tattered Beijing Olympics.  It’s a chopped cake that has been dry-stored.  Quite unsightly, especially on the reverse side.

I threw 6g into a small yixing: wax, straw.  Sour stage?  No fragrance.  Orange juice.  Astringent.  Wax paper.  Tastes like what I imagine some of their younger Yiwu productions might age into.  There is no punch to this production and strikes me as lifeless.

Days two and three it is significantly tastier.  Same leaves.  The aged layers have melted away to reveal a little peach, with the fuzzy, mild astringency, remarkable qi emanating from the Iron Man point at the center of the chest.

Longhorn orange, opaque, pours up sudsy, with a liquor evocative of dishwater.  Very deceptive, for every bit as subtle its flavour, every bit as intense is its qi.

Two days later, I switch to a gaiwan, again using 6g.  Aroma is much more inviting, sweet mellow fruit and dry sweet straw.  The taste is evocative of the Korean yellow melon, with a distinctive sour finish, consistent with earlier in the week.  No bitterness.  The huigan is more pronounced and very pleasant.  Five infusions of varying degrees, higher temp is perhaps better.  Liquor is much clearer.  The next two days of about five infusions each are more of the same, with a light essence of bubble gum.  Remains consistently sweet, never bottoming out into bitterness.  The sour seems to disappear after about 7 infusions in.  Lasts and lasts.

 

Tasty Puerh Tuo: 2010 Lancang Tiger

This just in: the Lancang Year of the Tiger has been declared “a good puerh.”  Sources agreed to speak on anonymity.

Four Lancang productions have been gathered by yours truly.  Their most famous production is is a Jingmai, which I’ve yet to try.  Focus alternatively has been on their lunar series, including the years of Rat, Tiger, and Ox, as well as a 100g cake of premium early spring buds from ’05.  There is a consistent florailty to them all, with varying levels of bitterness and plenty of astringency.  For those favouring the genteel effect, these productions are not the most easy drinking, but likely quite attractive to those keen on black teas.

This 250g tuo is moderately pressed, separating easily without crumbling.  The dry material still gives off the fragrance of granny smith, but spiced wood is now more prominent in the first three infusions.  Wet, it gives off a the aroma of floral vanilla

This round in the green clay teapot produced a liquor that is turbid, brown, and sudsy for the first six infusions.  It attacks the gut.  The fragrance hangs in the mouth for a lengthy duration.  Cheeky and throaty.  Difficult to tease out all the tastes, which can be easily overshadowed by the numbing astringency.  You have to sit with one as  you would scotch.

On the other side of the boldness is a velvety vanilla that is evocative of root-beer, a signature of my most favourite puerhs, raw and ripe.  This root-beer taste is either starting to gain a foothold as tuo ages or perhaps my tastes are maturing, perhaps a bit of both.

In sum, it is a well-balanced production, which in its seventh year is a delight to drink.  It is decidedly less like the green apple it was a few months ago.

’05 Glee: The Epitome of Genteel Puerh

The other day I was two-timing.  I was with a gathering of folks and the fare of the day was wulongs not puerhs.  In the course of conversing, one person remarked that puerh was a masculine tea.  I smiled because I know what she means, but that’s just not the case for all productions.  Exhibit A: Glee, the epitome of a genteel (rou) production.

Yangpinhao is a brand with a clear identity.  Their productions raw and ripe express an unmistakable talc and vanilla character.  Glee was produced in ’05 but dry-stored for 10yrs before being wrapped.  The aroma faintly floral and the liquor looks about what it should for 12yo Kunming tea, as you can see from the picture above.

In the year since acquiring Glee, I’ve downed about 1/2 of the 200g. tuo.  It is gently pressed and the leaves are more whole than is usual with tuo cha.  The taste doesn’t bowl you over.  In fact, you have to really pay attention to this one.  The impression at this stage is of highly mineralized slightly sweetened water with some floral overtones.  Just three months ago those notes tasted like wild weeds, a flavor I’m very much not keen on.  This floral note builds with an intensely lingering astringency that shreds and sticks to the tongue, cheeks, lips and throat about a minute in.  Early infusions are woodier.  There is no spice.  There is no bitterness.  At the 10th infusion with a time of more than 60s, the color was dark with a stronger floral note but positively zero bitterness.  It has a very subtle and possibly calming effect on the body.