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.

 

2014 Naked Gedeng Dragon Pearl

I’m at infusion number eight of this little treasure.  I looked back to what I wrote before.  The aroma of this is floral and it is the same as what can be tasted in the broth when you hold it in your mouth.  Whatever bitterness that I may have detected in the past is totally absent, but the astringency of this is a noteworthy feature.

You may have trouble talking as your lips stick to your teeth it’s so astringent.  Since writing about it two years ago, the floral essence seems to stand out more.  The thickness is exquisite sliding down easily and its colour is now a shimmering gold.  I am 10 infusions in and at 10 seconds and water at about 180 it is going strong.

I know someone is saying, “Ah-ha,” you’re faking it by using *artifically* low temperatures.  Viscosity is a more important control for me than temperature per se.  If a lower temperature is producing thick tasty pots, then there’s no need to up the temperature, particularly for young raws.  I rarely seem to be able to wait long enough for the pot to cool.  Even when blowing on the cup, it’s often still too hot.  This is more than a matter of convenience, because fullest taste is not at a particularly high temperature.  Why must brewing be so terribly different?  Should a high-quality production require more or less temperature to release its stuff?  And still, what do the temperature adherents make of the concept of scorched leaves?

I digress…

Though the astringency hangs on for quite a spell, alas there is only a faint afterthought of some ancient and forgotten fruit left in the mouth.  At eleven the thickness has remained but the fragrance has started to fade.  The sweet juicy broth remains.  I’m going to start to up the infusion time.