Tag Archives: fruity puer

Winter Tasting 2024

Posted on by Yang-chu
18 Jan

Winter Tasting 2024 finds “Peej”, as he’s known on the streets, back to the arduous task of sampling.  His focus goes back to Xinghai factory, in the dispassionate manner of any hoarder.  He recently acquired an edition of the ’06 Bulang GS without the “special” stamp.  I guess this would make it the 3rd or late 2nd batch.  It you drink it like most teas, it’s hideous; if drunk like cognac or ouzo, then at least you’re prepared.

Bulang Old Tree (no stamp)

There’s that hella fennel, star anise, bitter grasses, like golden rod. . . white oak.  I’m using my slow pour floral zisha, 150ml at 6.7g, which I feel is far too much really, but I’m giving this intensity a go.  It’s deathly astringent and drying, but less so in the throat.  I think the easiest thing to call it would be black tea, dianhong, but this species of star anise is particular to Mt Bulang in Banzhang.  It’s a recuring theme in many Xinghai productions and is evident in the LME Quincy, and the Tiger, CMS.

The Bulang Old Tree “Special” ostensibly is the second batch, as the neifei bears no timestamp.  Presumably, there is a Bulang GS “Select”, identical but for the designating stamp on the wrapper as well as the date stamp on the neifei.  The Special strikes me as having notes similar to the MKRS Daxueshan, a Lincang production.  Such are the hazzards of getting too hung up on terroir.  Daxueshan, nonetheless is on the “black tea” side of Lincang in contrast to Bingdao, which tends toward round and fruity, white grapey, pear.   Daxueshan area has a taste like Fengqing, in Simao, home to the largest and most famous producer of dianhong in all Yunnan.  There’s two cakes of this no-stamp version and price is quite modest, under $70usd.

Dianhong also goes by the name Yunnan Gold, or just black tea from Yunnan.  Oxidized productions are a specialty in itself.  The area of Fengqing is thought to be ideal for making black tea.  The puerh from this area tastes the same, with a distinctive rose nose and taste.  The 6FTM Lunar New Year Series possesses at least 30% Fengqing material.

BZ Wild King

The nose on the ’06 BZ Wild King evokes a sense of a spicy Smurfberry Crunch, lots of vanilla and blueberry, some nutmeg.  It hearkens to an era in the 80s, when Post cereals still existed.  While that opens up, should mention the run in I had with the ’07 Imperial Tuo, 250g raw.  It may get posted soon for a short spell.  It’s a very recent acquisition and has now entered a tasting rotation of sorts.  It has a personality akin to the Tiger Tuo.  A citrus pine vibe presents in the nose and liquor, some characteristic Xinghai apple and moderate sweetness with big astringency. Quite similar to the Green Peacock come to think of it.  The Green Peacock is a dreadfully good buy, more oiling, and one of the most well-received of ’23.

Goodness!  The ’07 BZ Wild King is nice in this ceramic shot glass.  It was just as good in the porcelain cup.  Smoke and wood, sweet then red-fleshed plum, super-intense Juicy Fruit factor on back end.  As usual, possesses that bracing astringency characteristic of Xinghai factory particularly before ’07.  There’s that distinctive medicinal note also found in the Bulang Old Tree.  BZWK has a top end note of swiss chard with vanilla, but turning more fully vanilla with spices like ginger and clove.  It’s on par with ’07 Mincemeat in terms of spiciness.  The sweetness is greater than usual for XH, but that’s definitely balanced out by the bold astringency, which is instant and reaching into the throat.  It may be testament to the “wild” in the title.

Stylin

The smoke evident in the first two infusions forms more of an accent than theme in the overall construction of the batch.  Smoke is much more evident in Stylin, from the same year.  Stylin’s leaves seem to be fairly small and expectations are that it will be intense.  The 6.7g used in the second case of BZWK proved more appropriate than for the Bulang Old Tree (special).  The nose is floral and fruity, sweet and the rinse is sudsy.  A definite aroma of honeysuckle and backdrop of smoke in the pitcher.  The smoke hits first followed by creamy and ferment-y butterscotch and then smoky, fruity, mineral-y.  Very nice sweetness.

The brew is lightest and longest-stored of the three sampled.  Intense smoked dryer sheet essence. Definitely more bitter than the BZWK.  The incense/dryer sheet essence fades to Juicy Fruit.  Stylin is first batch with a timestamp on the neifei.  A florid aroma coats the pitcher, there’s that “pissiness” of certain flowers, like magnolias.  The pissiness is disguised by the smoked wood in the broth.  It may be a puerh, but it’s tequila-identified. Puerh Junky knows next to nothing about tequila, but there is one type that is sweet and palatable like amaretto.  They call it “anejo.”

The third infusion appears slightly more coppery with some lasting suds befitting its dish-soap fragrance.  The really perfume-y puerhs are disgusting.  The flowers here are sultry and oppressive.  It’s pure perfume and the smoke is fighting a losing battle.  A bit of wintergreen and bitter grasses.  Astringent.  Cloying, like a woman seeking attention by wearing very loud perfume.  Although the perfume is evident in the nose, the taste is of ginseng, unapologetically bitter, spinach minerals, and a bittersweetness of Sweet-n-Low.  Feels now more like the cheap tequila that you’re just drinking for the hangover the next day.  Feels like it’s at least five years off for the lightweight Junky.

I just made that five-years bit up to make myself sound like a knowledgeable soothsayer.  Stylin‘, despite its cunning that sounds lower on the register, still possesses a rambunctiousness that belies youth.  Right now, it’s quite dreadful.  The smoke and perfume are hideous and punishing, then the bitterness.  Experienced drinkers may enjoy this or prefer to sit this one out till it gets a few more years under its belt.  It might end up being for the ages if you can store on your own for a couple years.

Instagram shots here.

Puerh Junky Visits Dali Tuo

Posted on by Yang-chu
25 Nov

Puerh Junky Visits Dali Tuo is a deceptively titled journal entry because we find Puerh Junky festively clad sniffing at something in a most indecorous manner.  Aye, he’s at it again, this time confusing Bob Cratchit for Ichabod Crane.  The camera zooms in and there’s something about the dude’s eyes that are certifiably “not right.”  It’s the amulet, yeah the spellbinder he’s pawing and sniffing at that’s got him all in a lather.  No doubt some of it has to do with the incantations scribbled upon the wrapper of the thing, the thing he holds.  The thing they call “a tuo.”

Dun-dun-dun.

There’s the hint of smoke and fresh-pressed cotton clothing in the tuo.  Yes.  It gives off a distinct impression of tobacco, something they no doubt smoked upon the Pequod.  It’s got a warm air about it, dressed impeccably in a fine high-cotton wrapper despite being 15yrs old, in the Puerh Junky‘s clutches for three years, stowed away without the light of day in the PJL, what everyone knows to be the Puerh Junky Lair.

“Seems to have blackened up a bit, it does,” he mutters to himself.

Lid removed, big waft of band-aids in the lid, while berries bubble from the cup.  That’s the five min warm cup warm up.  Wood.  No smoke or sugar jump out.  Still warm, complex, a bit cranky, scruffy.  It all comes together in the aroma of the rinse, perhaps berry predominates but now there’s smoke again.  Or wood.

The taste of the rinse is obscenely delicious.  Super sweet, kerosene and berry.  Smooth.  Slick in fact.  It was a headless move to drink the rinse, but such are the perils of conjuring the spirit of Ichabod Crane.  Besides, it’s a long 15m from the opening to the official first infusion.  The aftertaste is super slick.  Three drinking vessels tried: cracked ice Longquan celedon, porcelain glazed zisha (inner glaze), and glass.  The celedon cup gives an alarmingly sanguine finish.  All the while the wood, kerosene, sweet fester in the aftertaste.  From glass there’s a wicker front, a bit more astringency, which is a bit of a surprise.  The porcelain, wood and spice.

It’s aged extremely well.  The band-aid smell from the first infusion is now oppressive in the cup.  Aroma in pitcher is lighter, more nuanced.  Taste of berries shifts to black pepper in the throat, then to kerosene and band-aids.  Band-aids and berry in the aftertaste, then strawberries.  There’s some elements of the vaunted Forever Love in there, smokier presumably is the Dali Tuo.  There’s a kind of echo of smoke.  The note will bend kerosene or smoke depending on perspective.  Storage still clearly fantastic.

The second infusion has the smoothness and viscosity standout.  It’s more wood and petrol in the taste.  Not as sweet.  Tasting more like it’s done being all fruoux, fruoux.  An image of these dogs sitting about a card table smoking cigars comes to mind.  The Puerh Junky tries to distract himself with nicer thoughts like of Ahab and the Pequod.  There’s a lemon note endeavoring to make itself known, and some vegetal bitterness has definitely made itself known, maybe something like dandelion.  Room temp the sweetness and berry prevail in the porcelain cup.

The Dali Tuo gets more and more serious with each passing year.  It’s in a darker more petrolly place presently.  Maybe a year or two before becoming even more strait berry hard to say.  Instagram fotos.

 

Jingmai Tete A Tete

Posted on by Yang-chu
18 Sep

Jingmai Tete A Tete finally gives the Puerh Junky the chance to brandish his nonexistent French.  More importantly, it allows him to discuss an interlude between two Jingmai from 2014, the Guper and Haixintang.  This encounter has been more than a month in waiting, as it took a spell to complete the Haixintang page.  Let’s start there.

Haixintang

Toward the end of ’22 after loading up on Xinghai offerings, the Puerh Junky decided upon a deeper exploration of Haixintang.  Both the brick and tuo forms of Grenouille impressed, but it was time to determine whether something of their production personality could be gleaned by picking up a few of their offerings.  An ’06 tuo from Youle could not make The Collection for the time being.  Its got an unfamiliar Youle expression in the Puerh Junky‘s limited forays with that terroir.  At the same time, it does manifest an aggressive spirit that resembles some aspects of Grenouille.  Conversely, the Jingmai to be discussed and ’08 Nannuo (unlisted) could hardly be viewed in the same light.  Instead of aggression, the focus is on simplicity, a truth to the terroir.  It’s difficult to find a thread uniting them.  Let’s get on to how the Jingmai measures up to the GPE offering.

GPE & HXT (Sitting in a Tree)

Jingmai is often recommended for newbies.  The aroma is bright, fresh, effulgent.  There’s probably a great amount of it that’s given the ole sweet-me-now processing, so brewing tends to be very forgiving.  The terroir is large and it’s also conceivable that by some measure it’s naturally sweet earlier than some others.  It’s also imaginable that there’s a processing style common among many producers that favours woking for sweetness.

The thing is the Puerh Junky never came into contact with such Jingmai between ’12-15.  Large- or small-leaf varieties, they were quite typical of other productions requiring a spell to transform.  One possible exception was the first Jingmai tasted in KM, which was a very early spring, tippy production that possessed formidable bitterness behind the orchid aroma.  These prefatory remarks relate directly to the contrast between the GPE and HXT offers.

Both have a wickedly inviting aroma but the GPE possesses a bitterness, a burliness that is possibly less frequently offered by Western vendors.  The HXT hasn’t even a smidge of bitterness.  It’s perfect for the beginning brewer.  The HXT is one of the most even-keeled production ever drunk.  Though infusion times require building, the taste and character hardly budges.  The sweetness remains about the same, ditto for the very mild astringency.  It’s a light refreshing breeze by a tree-lined brook, a shallow and clean brook streaming over little smooth pebbles, shimmers of sunlight here and there.

Suppose you decide to head downstream and you know that you’re in a Grimm Fairytale.  Since we’re talking about a Jingmai, you know that the story should turn out happily ever after, but not without a bit of drama, a lost shoe, some misbehaving ogre, an unrelenting step-relative.  That’s the GPE.  The travails make the story at the very least more interesting.  There’s a crescendo, it’s going somewhere, that part of Jingmai that your step-uncle didn’t tell you about.

Final Words

The tete a tete between GPE and HXT reveals a remarkable contrast between two offerings from the same terroir.  HXT is definitely best for those averse to bitterness, beginners, and for moods where one can do without the drama.  GPE is for those who haven’t had Jingmai bitterness and depth while still remaining true to the Jingmai spirit.  Thought this clip at 6:41 captured the differences.

Puerh Junky Visits an ’05 and ’04

Posted on by Yang-chu
12 Jul

Puerh Junky Visits an ’05 and ’04 begins with LCGC’s 125g Jingmai “003” and ends with 6FTM’s Tuo.  It’s the 2023 All-Star Game today, mid-Jul in a summer that has not been particularly warm.  Both have been stored in just about the same conditions for the better part of five years here in Los Angeles.  Original storage conditions were moderate to conservative.

The 003 came directly from storage with no preparation.  The title of the mini-cake has the character rui  (蕊), which is comprised of one major component xin (心), which is “heart.”  What’s all this about?  Well the ole Junky has no recollection of ever seeing this character with any other production.  A few years back, 003 had an appearance resembling yinzhen/silver needle, but smaller leaves and much sassier than a silver needle.  Ostensibly, this is evidence of rui material.  In contrast to gongting, quite rare for raw, the leaves are whole and as mentioned resembling yinzhen.

For an 18yo production the aroma of the 003 is nothing short of startling.  It is super aromatic, floral, bright but for some reason it doesn’t possess an oppressive perfume, none of that cheap church lady perfume vibe.  It’s bright and fresh.  Frankly, it seems like it is brighter and fresher than it in previous years.  Wife thought it was a new tea.  Adding to mystery is a broth that has virtually no colour.  Despite this lack of colour, the transformation bears no signs of being stunted.  The storage is flawless.  The fragrance is not only outstanding reflective of the tiny spring leaves, but the astringency has melded to create a rich texture.  This makes it major-league enjoyable, now imparting the smoothness expected from well-aged productions.  Of course, the astringency picks up a bit in later infusions, but it’s always along a sweet backbone that gives active saliva provocation as opposed to dry mouth.

The 6FTM Tuo presents a more complicated tale.  Sampled a month ago to a drab performance, it blossomed to an expression quite different from its product description after sitting out.  Sweet berries and apple take center stage now, along a subtle petrol and graphite backdrop.  Que sophisticado.  hehehe.  The play between the fruit and oil in the huigan pleases, with the fruit acid tweaking the cheeks.  It’s very cheeky, with the sensation lasting a good slobbery spell.

This tuocha is edgier than the 003, probably thicker too.  The qi is characteristic of 6FTM offerings.  The qi of the 003 is very much in the aroma, along with strong chest opening attributes.  Conversely, the 6FTM Tuo comes with a heaviness that pushes down at the back of the neck before imparting a bit of wooziness.  This is the first time that the full character expected of a 6FTM production has come through.  The crux of this treasure has been and always will be storage.  Periodically, old productions are released from deep storage that require a number of years to meet a high standard.  I know of three 6FTM productions between ’02-’04 that fall into this category and this tuo is one of them.

Puerh Junky Visits an ’05 and ’04 offers contrasting styles of puerh from two highly regarded factories, LCGC and 6FTM.  The LCGC is deceptively young for its age, but the age is evident in its texture and sweetness, something noticeable when drinking it through the years and understanding something about aging under mostly moderate conditions.  Similarly the 6FTM is dry stored but it has a broth hue that one could more or less expect under dryish conditions.  Neither production is by any stretch dry tasting.  However, the 6FTM required sitting out a month before it performed anywhere close to standard.  If it isn’t sweet, with an excessively peaty and boring expression it’s because it needs to sit out to wake up.  For a Jingmai, the 003 has some qualities reminiscent of a white tea or silver needle.  This is evident in aspects of its outstanding aroma.  The 6FTM Tuo is a fantastic entry-level (if price be any indication) offering from the highly regarded early days of operation.

 

Turning Up Heicha

Posted on by Yang-chu
26 Apr

Turning Up Heicha came about from a reflection upon a number of dry-stored productions from about ’98-’07 that possess a quintessentially heicha character.  “Heicha” is a class of tea to which puerh belongs but is processed in different provinces.  “Puerh” is a trademarked name similar to champange, so technically other places technically cannot use the term.  Other types of heicha are fucha and liubao.  Typically, heicha’s association with puerh is with ripes given the processing technique, but older raws venture into the heicha category as well.  Puerh Junky will be visiting raw with heicha expression in this post.

HK Returns Cake, Zhongcha

Among the varying HK Returns offerings from ’07, the HK Returns Cake proved the burliest.  The lack of sweetness acquired in ’16 constituted a continuing conundrum.  I porcelained a portion about two years ago in ’21 Spring.  The porcelained version is not recognizable from previously associations, though the listing blurb duly notes that it strode a road toward berry fruit-osity.  Another portion of the same cake, stored differently, still possesses the tobacco tinge.

Only one tasting of the ’21 acquisitions (about three) transpired, and it expressed camphor sweetness indicative of greater humidity.  Overall, the HKR Cake has great durability and depth, with some of the stronger character from its youth coming though.

HK Returns Iron Cake, Zhongcha

Since we’re talking about heicha and Zhongcha and HK Returns, there’s the Iron Cake.  The pauperly Puerh Junky only has one of these for sale.  It’s absolute magic.  To be perfectly honest, were I looking for this taste, I’d probably venture into Dancong’s.  It’s extremely well constituted: sweet, thick, and with lemony notes on the top.  Lemonene expresses in Hideout, LME, but Hideout has an identifiably puerh character and complexity.  The HK Iron could be easily classified as a well preserved dancong or better yet, a well-stored fucha of about 8  yrs old.

Macau Raw Brick

The 2000 Macau Raw Brick isn’t for sale, but it serves as a solid touchstone for appreciating the transformation of raw puerh.  It has a depth that perhaps surpases heicha at it current stage.  Mind you, Puerh Junky doesn’t do much heicha drinking.  The variables of Mainland storage, travel, and storage on the LA side albeit separate intersect.  By the time the MRB reached performance level, it was difficult to determine which variable factored most.  This brick happens to be referenced in the Puerh Yearbook. It’s devoid of any humidity, so there’s no “old taste” per se, but it’s aged fully.

Du Qiongzhi 7532

The ’03 Du Qiongzhi 7532 comes in a bold Red Mark wrapper and progressed beyond the initial tobacco stage.  This particular cake, acquired in ’15, has never received full treatment. . . or maybe it has to its detriment.  It received the “top-shelf tx,” productions that were more enclosed and even placed in the sexy cardboard boxes aptly fitting single cakes.  The thing is that the cardboard aroma bleeds into the cake while zapping it of certain essential esscenses.  It’s been much work trying to bring this cake around.  It’s going on two years now, and if it’s been tinned, I don’t know where such tin is stashed.  In any event, it seems it wants to emerge as the porcelained version of the HK Returns Cake does but just hasn’t juiced up enough given the top-shelf tx.  It’s from Meitra Du’s own collection, so the junky side of me thought to be extra careful with little basis for knowing what extra care meant given my conditions and the conditions of the cake.  An Aug ’22 session produced by far the most enjoyable session and this summer seems to be a good time to really give it a push.  I do have two non-cardboard affected cakes.  The wrapper is thin cotton paper of distinctive quality.  Though horribly tattered at the edges, I don’t recall any staining.

’03 Du 7532

Thick Zen, Zhongcha

Thick Zen epitomizes the enigma of puerh.  My first encounter with it was around ’17.  It looked horrible and tasted of absolutely nothing.  I knew it must be good, but I didn’t know how long it would take.  Its viscosity clung to me and anticipation of it morphing into root beer oozed from my being.  I drank and sampled much from the first two cakes, convinced it was Yiwu.

The second batch of TZ has the same thickness, but the storage was dry, it appears, beyond the stage of turning camphor, wood, or rooty.  Could be the material as well.  Batch two is far sassier, with the fruit note far more up front, with stone fruit sour, a bit of raisin in the nose.  It’s like a strong boiling of dried cherry and peach without the sugar added.  Picking up some grape nose as it rehydrates.  By June ’23 it should be in good form, it’s already much sweeter than at the beginning of the month and there’s even some vanilla and complexity that garned its praises previously.

What’s not Heicha

Neither Poison nor some Yiwus are coming off as heicha.  I’d say the Yiwu Gratitude is venturing toward heicha, but the Prince is holding true to a darker note.  A number of the 6FTM Yiwu on hand have turned petrol in the same time frame.  All of these hail from backgrounds of decidedly more humid conditions.  When and how much humidity gets applies plays a major role in how the production will manifest.  Raw puerhs possess a degree of dynamism that cannot be found with other heicha, but through prolonged dry storage with heat they manifest as a bona fide heicha character.  Counterintuitively, ripes take considerably longer to have heicha traits to emerge.  The exception to this is the big leaf sancha, which might be processed in a fashion quite similar to liubao.

Wrapping Up

This desultory passage on raws Turning Up Heicha is just one of the ongoing reflections upon storage.  Although ripe puerh technically fits within the category of heicha, it doesn’t possess the fruit character until considerably aged and often never (there are obvious exceptions).  Conversely, raw puerh can turn up heicha quite often given the right measure of heat and dryness.  Raw productions like the HK Returns Cake and the Du 7532 that previously fell under the tobacco class have been marching ever resolutely toward heicha brightness.  Both cases demonstrate how slight variations in storage variables can produce notable differences.  The HK Returns Iron was first sampled last year, ’22.  There was no need to taste before then, because it was clear that offerings of this nature needed a solid 15yrs storage before sampling. It’s certainly the most outstanding among the HK Returns Series.  Age being what it is, there are nevertheless great storage matters requiring tending.  The Thick Zen second batch is every bit as thick, but needs some loving before performing optimally.  Complex notes are starting to form and it’s possible that storage intensity may reawaken its puerh essence, but for now it’s trending decidedly in the direction of heicha.  Finally, some reference points contrasting from heicha provide the reader with the Puerh Junky’s thinking on the matter.

 

 

Tuo for Two

Posted on by Yang-chu
28 Sep

Tuo for Two is a modern-day reverie.  Don’t laugh.  You should be crying.  The three tuo consumed over the past two days are a cryin’ shame.  Before the gory details, a pressing grammatical question should first be laid to rest.  The plural form of “tuo” is tuo.  If you see “tuos” written somewhere, try to be kind.  Even the “your/you’re” dragon has resisted the slings and arrows of correction.  What chances does tuo, much further down on the list of grammatical grievances, actually have?  Now that we dispensed with that there’s something else. . .

Given the title of this missive, chances are good that many readers are harboring suspicions that the Puerh Junky considers cornball allusions to Cole Porter cutting edge.   If you don’t know who Cole Porter is, you still might harbor suspicions but of a different sort.  Mind you, I have it on good authority that one should never let a Cole Porter allusion slip by, even if he didn’t write the lyrics.

Two Days of Tuo-ture

Recently the Puerh Junky posted an easy-listing page.  No, you won’t find Christopher Cross or Steely Dan, but there’s a slew of raw tuo.  One is the T861, Tulin which has been in the Collection since ’15.  There are two remaining.  At one time it bore the name AMT.   Comments there are interestingly honest however aberrant that sesh was.

Dry T861 gives off limestone, honey, and a slight hint of newspaper.  Brewed in red clay, the mineral notes stand out, while in the gaiwan it is sweet and smooth with a hint of humidity.  The astringency attacks the blade of the tongue, lips, and deep in the throat.  The Chinese call this “ghost pinching the throat,” 鬼掐喉咙。 Overall, the taste is what is associated with peat.  The huigan is nicely complex with light humidity, honey, and minerals chatting on in unison.  The seriously sweet broth possesses complimentary thickness.  Beware!  There’s lotsa camphor to this.  Upon exhalation even a hint of something floral can be caught.  As one progresses in gaiwan this floral element becomes more pronounced.  Zero smoke, even a bit of sour.  Deeply satisfying, really the epitome of what a recipe puerh should be: cured with character.

Infusions 2 and 3

I accidentally left the 6.3g of the Red Mark Tuo in the same 100ml red clay pot too long.  Out poured a syrupy decoction.  I was certain that it was going to be horrible but ended up horrified.  I’ve been drinking this since Jan ’20 but in Sept ’22 it is not just the best its been but a serious contender for one of the best offerings in the collection.

Foto from early 2022

It’s so smooth and balanced.  Dense petrol, wood, and incense characterize the broth.  It’s not remotely pencil shavings, caustic, or for want of any additional note.  There is a subtle camphor note tying everything together keeping it from becoming oppressive, excessively unctuous.  The summer has been very good to the Red Mark Tuo.

First acquiring the Tiger Tuo sometime in early ’16, it ended up aging quickly into a root beer-y delight.  I decided to reup on the order in the ’20 and then found it at a better price later in the year.  There’s something to be said for slow storage.  In this case, the sharpness has receded while the interesting pineapple and other fruit notes have been preserved.

Summer has also been very good to the Tiger Tuo.  It’s super sweet, thick, and fruity, with a thread of pine sap that makes it distinctive.  A fellow drinker called it the best she’s ever had like “paint thinner”.  What a compliment.  Tiger is light years from the treasures mentioned above.  It hasn’t entered into the transformed state where the camphor comes in and the liquor turns reddish, but it’s transformed sufficiently to allow the sap and sugars to emerge.  There’s no telling how long it will remain in this state.   V. slight smoke and comprised of about five terroir including a Jingmai backbone, along with Bangwei, Bingdao, and others.

 

Wild Jingmai GPE Returns

Posted on by Yang-chu

Wild Jingmai GPE Returns draws the reader’s attention to the restocking of a very good production.  It was last written about in Oct ’20.  As noted in the product description, WJM more than doubled from the Puerh Junky’s original purchase price.  Whereas it was previously a certifiable steal, the price is still quite fair compared to offerings of similar factory reputation, age, and quality.

Perhaps since the last missive on WJM, it has increased in viscosity and sweetness.  The tight compression might be contributing to its pronounced vivaciousness.  It’s hard to say.  The recent lot hails from the same vendor as before.  He favours very conservative storage.  By contrast, his ’07 Tibetan Script Jingmai, GPE, though considerably more expensive, required two years storage on the Los Angeles side before the offering was in drinking shape. Curiously, the Wild Jingmai has always been highly drinkable.

Despite being eight years old, there are none of the ferment-y notes that can be fairly typical for this age.  The unabashed bitterness in later infusions offers a distinctive contrast to its seductive candy floral aroma.   There was a time when I might bash my head against the wall differentiating between bitterness and astringency, but after reading a post where one confused sour for bitter it’s best to leave well enough alone.  That said, astringency is a texture and bitterness is a flavour.  WJM gets off-the-charts bitter deeper down without tasting as though the bitterness is from being immature; rather, it reflects a very common attribute among Jingmais in general.  No doubt about it, WJM is hegemonic, what the call in Chinese badao, 霸道。

Wild Jingmai joins Jingmai “003” as the only other entire Jingmai in the Collection. The Ox Tuo and the Ox, 6FTM consist of Jingmai blends.

Found: Tinned Pig

Posted on by Yang-chu
08 Sep

Found: Tinned Pig casts a glimmer of light upon the travails of the Puerh Junky, a foundering soul amidst a sea of puerh containers, wrappers, boxes, struts and frets.  As we zoom in, the camera has a retro filter.  We see the Puerh Junky in the cave on the Sunday before Labour Day 2022.  Hair amiss and sweat pouring from his brow and neck, he’s looking for his Gedeng dragon pearls.

Some moody Philip Glass music, monotonous and foreboding, sounds in the background.  A rudderless skiff at night fades in and out between shots of PJ searching.  A thought as to the whereabouts of the missing Pig pops to his mind.  The narrator vanishes and we see him in an interview with a reporter from the world-famous Puerh Storage News. . .

Piggy Went Home

I’m estimating that ’07 Pig sat in its secret location in the cave since May ’22, as that’s around the last time I appear to have last written about it.  At the time, I recall a measure of consternation because it was starting to taste metallic.  Immediately lay to rest the idea that the Puerh Junky listens to this type of music. (note: even in interviews he has this bad habit of referring to himself in third person)  It’s just a serendipitous funny occasioned by the word, and Mariano Rivera’s walk-up tune.  Fact is, I wouldn’t even it know the tune but for Rivera.

For four months it had sat cooking with the lid.  Immediately, I removed the lid and placed in the raw side of the fridge.  It sat there for two days and was sampled on the third.  The results?  Forget you Philip Glass!

Pig Unfocused

This is the sweetest and thickest the Pig has been, but what jumps out immediately is the pallor.  This is consistently the colour the brew throughout.  Where is the aged colour?  I mentioned something about this conundrum when looking at leaves.  May have even gone into the colour deception.

I’ve had the Pig since ’15.  In another post, I discussed the pleasing changes of the Zhongcha Pig, acquired around the same time.  Now, the 6FTM Pig cannot be said to not have transformed, because it has.  All of the edginess, the piercing attributes of a young tippy production have vanished.  There is notable drying astringency as well that takes hold for a spell before releasing the mouth watering.  The floral has transformed to fruity and it resides in the mouth for a pleasant duration.

’07 Pig, 6FTM Cashed

Everything about the taste matches its colour but the age.  I would easily guess that this is a puerh at least ten years younger, except that it doesn’t infuse to a layer where the sweetness dissipates.  I would also identify it as a Lincang, but from the Bingdao side not Fengqing.

Anyway, as far as the ongoing tinning experiment, it appears when the tin is outside the fridge that the lid does not affect the taste.  Inside the fridge, the tin starts to bleed into the taste.  Again, this goes back to the matter of air flow.  The Pig is now happily resting in the fridge without its lid.   Pig isn’t for sale, but a sample of the quite similar Fohai is avail in Sampler U, along with samples of the Lunar Ox and Monkey.

 

 

Puerh Junky Visits Golden Sail

Posted on by Yang-chu
22 Aug

Puerh Junky Visits Golden Sail picks up with another ripe from the mid naughts.  Golden Sail holds the distinction of selling Yunnan puerh under a Guangdong brand.  As the Puerh Junky has made abundantly clear, brand is about the closest this 250g tuo comes to Guangdong, as it was brutally dry stored.  Some people like that dry-stored ripe vibe, so I made it available even though by my own reckoning it needed resurrection.

The problem with dry stored ripes is that they aren’t sweet.  Ripes should have some measure of sweetness.  I’m not sure how some of the instantly sweet ripes are processed but guesses are that they’re heavily wokked and/or heavily fermented.  Both are heat processing which accelerates transformation of “the stuff” to sugar.

Dry storage also stunts expression.  Notes don’t sound as clearly or vibrantly.  Instead, there are fleeting hints to an otherwise stilted drinking experience.  Such was the case with the Golden Sail, which had hints of fermented cherry but altogether too faint.  Combined with a lack of sweetness and a mid-range vegetal note, it was very difficult to drink.

GS came Puerh Junky Resurrection Center (PJRC) in Dec 2020 complaining of the conditions mentioned above.  An Aug 2021 tasting showed not much change.  The experience was frankly nothing short of horrible, lacking sweetness and if memory serves possessing a sour note totally challenging.  During that session, the cherry note was not detectable either.  I only got through two infusions before tapping out.  Gross.

Aug 2022 presents a vastly improved picture.  Some renovations at the PJRC have afforded more efficient humidification in the summer months to the benefit of all the ripes.  I stopped using a hygrometer.  The Power Humidity Ward (PHW) of the PJRC receives visits on a daily basis, so there is very little concern about mold.  Furthermore, temps remain moderate from daily maritime breezes that cool the air.  Temps have rarely gone above 85, with an average range between 65-85.  Furthermore, any particular concerns about humidity can be addressed by moving ripes from the PHW to another ward in the PJRC.

No such concerns apply to GS, which is now exhibiting sweetness, a cherry-cum-berry flavour, and a slight camphor note.  Remarkable are both bitter and astringent features that express both in the broth and aftertaste, especially the astringency.  The fruit is very promising and much bolder than before.  It’s downright fruity.  Let there be no doubt: GS is in a much better place.

The astringency and bitterness got me curious.  Golden Sail is a Zhongcha/CNNP export brand.  I had assumed that this tuo was their flagship ripe 7581 devised by the Kunming TF but the wrapper offers no indication.  However, this degree of bitterness and astringency doesn’t seem to be in the spirit of the 7581, which is never bitter or astringent.  Such a profile suggests that the material comes from considerably smaller leaves, possibly grade-four leaves and smaller.  Close inspection shows tiny twiggy material, tips, and chopped leaf.

Come to think of it, the release rate of GS is along the lines of smaller leaves, very quick.  Even so, the durability is greater than with most gongtings.  It offers six solid infusions.  As with most ripes this age, clarity is first rate.

 

Shocking Puerh Changes

Posted on by Yang-chu
17 Jul

Shocking Puerh Changes relates the on-going observations of the Puerh Junky with his pre-2016 purchases.  Specifically, it involves the dangers of classifying productions, which are wont to transform into an entirely different category.  It is also part of a saga of discovering erstwhile duds were nothing of the sort, but processed in such a way where they only have come into form after a great deal of time.  Let’s begin.

Shifting Puerh Class

The ’07 Prince of Vanilla came into the Puerh Junky’s possession in ’15.  It hails from the Longyuan TF, which produces an awful lot of tea, many with super fancy wrappers.  In the year of its incarnation, ’06, the PoV won some type of metal at some competition that was essentially ignored upon acquisition.  The wrapper captures a theme of a continued Dai/Thai tradition thus comprising a thematic “fit.”  Compression is one of the most noticeable features of the cake.  Whereas most Menghai productions from this era have been machine pressed with serious zeal, the PoV is quite moderately pressed.

Nothing impresses more than the ability of competition tasters.  Over the years, it is hard to say any thing had particularly stood out about the PoV and for copetition tasters to detect award-winning traits hot off the press boggles the mind.  In one missive, I mentioned that Prince of Vanilla made for good bowl drinking and that the qi was stout, a great firm drink in the Tobacco Class for the morning.  At one time, there was a vanilla note, which earned it its name, but after some time faded residing rather humbly in the Tobacco Class most distinguished by its wrapper.

As such, it never garnered any special storage attention and could said to have been relegated to quasi-purgatory treatment.  Special attention means more humidity and purgatory means getting whatever humidity possible, which isn’t a whole lot.  This could prove positively disastrous in the desert, but Los Angeles isn’t exactly a desert climate given the famous marine layer that adds a bit of humidity to the air for about three of the four seasons.

As of the summer of ’22, the Prince of Vanilla’s Tobacco Class days are very behind it.  It is now a Fruit Class bomb.  It’s not like the Thick Zen where there are just fruit notes.  No, it is screaming blueberry, a taste which lingers and lingers long after done drinking.  It’s as though this is the material from which the mercurial Merlot was taken.  Merlot is a ripe which was originally going to be called Crunch Berries because it was so fruity but then settled into something more like Merlot before shifting back into to a voluble fruity expression. . . with more qi.  It seems sometimes that consistent dry storage will develop this fruit character, instead of strong camphor and tree roots.  The storage is certifiably dry but it isn’t in the least dry tasting.  That occurs when storage is too dry and too hot, which in any event result in different notes.  Here, nothing about the PoV is dry.  It’s super summer fun.

Jingmai Puerh Awakens

Another ’15 acquisition was a Jingmai with a stunning wrapper from a now either defunct or reorganized outfit called Mountain Top TF.  The fate of such a factory is quite telling.  To wit: the ’09 Jingmai is only now starting to show signs of promise in ’22.  A new factory faces a serious uphill batter for survival if their processing required waiting a good 15 years before coming into form.  This is a battle that Mountain Top appears to have lost, but there’s still its offerings for evaluation and enjoyment.

Perhaps most surprising about this Jingmai was its utter absence of the signature Jingmai florality.  Youth and processing notwithstanding, Jingmai are still expected to possess a floral character.  Without any particular character or floral expression, this production was nothing short of a major dud, especially given its exquisite wrapper and very careful pressing.  As such, it was set aside and essentially given the purgatory treatment: dry and given little if any fuss.

The July ’22 tasting proved surprising.  There is a hint of flowers starting to emerge amidst a very sweet broth.  It’s hard to imagine how such tastes and aromas age into a production, but this is what makes puerh aging so interesting.  Also shocking is the virtual absence of colour in such an old production.  By all accounts, I would have guessed that this was a ’20 Lincang processed for young consumption, the exact opposite of the facts.

The caste of the broth stays this colour throughout.  There may be a hint of pink in there which is supposed to a mark of the absolute best.  It could also be from the time of day the photo was taken.  I paid more attention to whether the floral note would express more strongly, how long the sugariness would continue, and whether the broth would darken up or go through a cloudy stage than the nature of the hue itself.  It never went through a cloudy stage nor did it get darker.  The richness and sugar start to fade in the 6th and 7th infusions.  Clearly its most humbling feature involves the colour, as a typical barometer of age.  Curve balls of this sore make the Puerh Junky all the more apprehensive in doubting some age claims.

The remaining cakes were resting in more humid climes for a few months, but there’s a measure of storage orchestration with which I’m currently contending, so they’re back to purgatory for at least the next week. The Jingmai will be sampled again at the end of the summer.  I’ll be particularly interested in how long it lasts and whether the floral note continues to develop, as I’m finding with the Bulang Shengtai.