Cody

First, thanks to TwoDog of White2Tea for a hefty sample of this.

The dry leaves have darkened and a soft fragrance of “pure tea” exudes from the chunks of cake, which are composed of a variety of leaf types. The first couple steeps are somewhat weak, but by the third infusion, things get going. Each sip opens simply and sweetly, with a light mouthfeel, soon developing into a a full, complex body that introduces slight kuwei (good bitterness) in the throat, a slight tartness, and a faint smokiness. The finish is cooling throughout the mouth and coupled with a subtle huigan (returning sweetness).

The aromas in the dry cup and gaiwan lid are deep, dark and slightly fruity with caramel-like undertones. Some aspects from the earthy spectrum as well. All this together with the textural profile and flavors present place this cake in what seems like an intermediate stage of aging. It seems mature, but there are still rougher dimensions of youth that haven’t quite transformed yet. I enjoy this, though. My sessions with this tea have so far been complex and interesting, and the leaves grant a little bit of everything I like in sheng pu’er. This is quickly becoming one of my favorite teas I have had this year. I only wish I would have learned of White2Tea sooner so I could have grabbed a cake of this before they ran out…

Thanks to Angel from Teavivre for this sample.

The leaves (both dry and when initially wet) surprised me with their extremely bright green color, which inevitably led to a highly “green” liquor—very floral and herbaceous taste with pale-green liquor coloration, a crisp mouthfeel, and a general lack of persistent, full aroma. I’ll chalk this one up as another modern “green tea” tieguanyin and move on. The flavors were of the general tieguanyin spectrum, although were more subdued than those of other similar spring tieguanyin*, so I won’t go into much detail there. Instead, I’ll focus on the aromatic and textural qualities that set this one apart (for better or worse).

I generally prefer the autumn harvests of tieguanyin for their more pervasive aromatics and depth, especially with this kind of lightly- or un-roasted tieguanyin. I found the fragrance of this one to be quite lacking, as I alluded to above, which seemed to bring out the highest overall intensity after the wash and then fade quickly throughout the session. The scent on the gaiwan lid was fleeting after each steep, while my tasting cup had little to no lengxiang (lit. cold fragrance; the scent leftover after the liquor has been drained). However, I found there to be dimensions of the wet leaves’ fragrance that were unique, such as a deeply vegetal, “green wood” quality that was somewhere in the earthy spectrum of scents.

I found the mouthfeel and general “form” of the liquor to be quite enjoyable. I noticed almost no astringency whatsoever, and a long smoothness for each sip. Although the textural dimensions remained on the light side during the opening and development of a sip, the finish was sticky and somewhat thick, with a faint cooling sensation in the throat. With more leaf in the gaiwan*, a small tartness in the throat is detectable, although the information Teavivre provides for this tea indicates that it shouldn’t have this quality because of the lack of tuo suan during processing. Again, it didn’t seem to be there with lower quantities of leaf (as in half the sample pack per 100 mL of water), but it wasn’t a negative quality to me regardless.

*Using a bit more than half the bag will result in more intense/full flavors, at the expense of some smoothness, in my experiences. Both produce sessions that are good in their own right, depending on what qualities you desire. Teavivre seems to recommend the entire bag for gaiwan brewing, but for my preferences the cramping of the leaves at that concentration produces a sub-optimum infusion.

First, thanks to Nicholas at Misty Peak Teas for the sample.

The leaves look decent enough considering their unprotected life in USPS shipping for a few days, with no barrier between the leaves and the envelope. Thankfully a 4g chunk of cake survived and enough loose leaves remained whole enough to get about 6g total leaf for a session. I notice that the cake must be made of quite the blend of materials: fuzzy buds, small fragments, small leaves, large leaves, leaves with stems, a large chunk of what appears to be bamboo (seriously), and other parts of the tea plant.

After a rinse, the wet leaves, minus the unusable material, turned out to be quite aromatic. The scent is thick and fruity and carries far from the gaiwan, turning highly herbaceous later on. I notice they are very green, oolong-like, and have a fair share of bruising. Unfortunately, the strength of aroma does not carry over to the soup, which is as weak in body as it is in coloration. Yet, with subsequent infusions, both of these aspects grow in depth, though the soup remains definitely yellow throughout. The extent of this increase is not large, however. This tea is very slow to start, not really granting a full experience until the fourth or fifth infusion. This would normally not be much of an issue, but soon after this mark, it is quick to die out, or grants more fullness at the expense of too much roughness with long steep times.

Given this shengpu’s youth, it seems to have not had much time to develop any textural intrigue nor qi. I found the both to be quite lacking, though the tea did seem to have a decent bit of caffeine to it. While it had some good flavors to it, its form, which is what I am most interested in with pu’ercha, was weak.

Each sip opens quite undramatically, soft in body and faint in taste besides an introductory sweetness. There is a faint buttery aspect that I commonly find in very young sheng pu’er. It gets better in the development, though the duration is short and seems to peak at a medium intensity. Complexity is introduced at this point—a basic blend of fruity and floral spectrums. The sip quickly passes into the finish, which is drying and has some bitterness forward in the mouth. I’m left with a faint coolness in the throat, which is at least one promising aspect of this tea.

During later brews, the development’s intensity increases and the duration is extended to a small extent. The textural components are not aided by the longer steeps, instead increasing in the forward bitterness and astringency. The aftertaste was tasty flavor-wise, but again, lacking in mouthfeel. I found the aroma in the cup after the soup was drained to be suggestive of quality, though. It was thick, floral and fruity, with the dark sweetness of caramel.

I would rather not speculate on this tea’s aging potential, but from what I’ve heard the average Yiwu cake does okay over the years. I would say this is probably close to one of those averages, but it’s really too young for me to tell. However, I find its lack of strength (I would have even liked to have seen more power in the bitter department) given its extreme youth to be concerning. The proportion of junk to leaves in the small sample received is also concerning, and seems to indicate a lack of care during processing, as does the fair quantity of red-hued leaves.

The cake has a tight compression and a light, sweet aroma. The first steep begins light to medium in strength, but the body feels full and seems to foreshadow the strength in the upcoming infusions of thick, dark orange soup. The flavors tend toward the fruity spectrum and are mostly simple in style, while the body is malty and full of “dark” sweetness, thick and ripe like prunes. Later, more smoky and woody notes climb in, and create a very balanced complexity.

The soup begins slowly and softly with a thick mouthfeel, introducing basic sweet and salty aspects. It develops into a long and waxing complexity across a second or two duration, where the flavors mentioned above begin to grow and amass one after the other. At this point, a throaty kuwei slowly emerges. It is, like the other aspects of this tea, deep. The bitterness isn’t sharp and is more “felt” than tasted. There are some drying effects towards the front of the mouth, but the throat remains moist. It reaches a medium to strong intensity as far as flavors go, before fading slowly to a stable finish that doubles as a long-lasting aftertaste. I found this to be a very interesting quality with this tea, as I usually find the sip’s finish fades before a complimentary, yet distinct aftertaste (with a slightly different flavor) emerges after the swallow. With this shengpu, the soup’s form descends to a stable and subtle intensity that simply “sticks,” lingering for quite some time. Finally, seconds after the swallow, a coolness begins to develop that intensifies as the session progresses. After the second steep, my body is calmed and warmed to the point of sweating, causing my neck and ears to become flushed.

Overall I am really pleased with this one and impatiently await the effects of a bit of age on it. The tea presents an interesting textural experience, but is not without intrigue in the flavor department. Plus, it has an elephant on the wrapper, which adds just a touch more awesomeness to it.

It’s a pretty scrappy looking cake, but the soup it produces is great. The leaves are ridiculously long and many have difficulty fitting into my gaiwan. The compression is so loose that enough leaves for a session can be gathered from the cake just by lifting it and prodding the sides a bit, causing dried leaves to fall onto the wrapper like raindrops. And it’s aroma is extremely pungent. The time spent bent over the cake collecting leaves caused my face to become flushed and my eyes slightly irritated. It smells very smoky and aggressive.

The strength of the aroma carries over to the wet leaves and soup, although the profile changes somewhat. The tobacco smoke remains to some extent, but a certain caramelized fruitiness and faint ginger quality emerges. The mouthfeel is as burly as the scent.

The opening is quick and somewhat dull, with rough, dark sweetness. It rapidly develops into something stronger with average complexity and great depth of character. It lingers expectedly, gradually evolving into a spicy-cool finish in the throat. The coolness is intense and lasts quite some time. The aftertaste is cool and moist, with a kind of sticky sweetness, but my body is warm. The tea is stimulating, but only slightly so. Further steeps add a nice throaty bitterness and more fruity flavors, treading farther from the initial smokiness found in the aroma.

The second time I tasted this I actually measured the amount of leaves I used (6 g/100 mL), but my results were less intense and lighter in depth than the first time. I had used more leaves from the edge of the cake, which are much longer than those closer to the center and those within the body of the cake, and are attached to even longer stems. I guess I’ll have to pay more attention to what parts of this eclectic blend I’m using for each session in the future.

I am a huge fan of this tea’s liquor. When using my gaiwan, as soon as an infusion is poured out, the liquor is a bright, vibrant red. Yet, intriguingly this tea oxidizes extremely quickly. If looked upon for fifteen to twenty seconds or so after the pour, the liquor darkens and fades into a more ruddy brown-red coloration. The transition is quite striking and has a color range that is much broader than most other hongcha I am familiar with.

Otherwise, I am also a fan of the aggressiveness this tea brings out in the flavor. It is both expected and consistent throughout steeps and reminds me of the ol’ Zhu Rong of Verdant Tea, but with smoke instead of spice. It provides a robustness that requires a certain mood from the drinker, when something brisk and perhaps a bit rude is desired. But it’s not a complete brute. The flavor transitions into a mouthfeel is nice and savory, with a salty feeling in the aftertaste.

My main complaint is that the leaves are far too potent and abrasive to enjoy their aroma properly. In this case, the smoke is exponentially more powerful than the leaves themselves, creating an imbalance. However, if I remember correctly, this tea was surprisingly lasting across multiple steeps, without a major loss of smokiness in the later steeps. I believe up to eight was common.

I had a few sessions of this Western style, but concluded that I preferred it much more in a gaiwan.

The processing seems to have treated the leaves well—they look nice and the “roasted” aroma is light and adds nicely to the overall scent. The dry leaf aroma is clean, of dried fruits, and slightly floral. This dan cong reminds me a great deal of Jing’s phoenix dan cong, with higher levels of florals and less pronounced peach notes in the liquor’s flavor. Smelling the wet leaves after the first steep takes me back to my early days of drinking loose leaf teas (Jing’s phoenix dan cong was one of my first). Hints of guava mixed with the regular floral and wood-charcoal aromas. At this point, the leaves are still tightly raveled, but reveal that characteristic green/red/brown coloration dan congs tend to have.

The liquor possesses a nice, light amber/peach liquor coloration, becoming progressively darker into the middle steeps. Always very clear, though. Excellent liquor aroma: sweet, floral, hint of inoffensive charcoal. Body is smooth with faint sparkling characteristics.

When it comes to the flavor, I have noticed that fewer leaves treat the brew better with this tea. When I really load up the gaiwan, I have difficulty finding balance between bitterness and flavor, even with cooler water and extremely short steep times. It was either way too bitter, or there was no bitterness paired with no complexity as well.

Anyway, when the parameters were acceptable, the flavor really shined. The first few steeps were sweet and buttery, with nectar and honey flavors and an aftertaste of peach. Astringency was minimal if steep time was in check, and a nice kuwei, or throaty bitterness, was present in the second and third steep. Yet, as with many dan congs, the infusions of this one become dull, flat, but very sweet, after around the fourth or fifth steep. At any rate, this is certainly one of the better “generic” dan congs.

I have, “A definitely good hongcha, this one is,” written in my tea journal for one session with this Dian hong. While I can’t comment on my Yoda-esque prose I seem to have adopted that day, it adequately sums up this tea. It’s a mid-grade Dian hong, possessing fair amounts of both black leaves and golden budsets, and it certainly shows in the cup. While I prefer the all-buds Dian hongs, I both enjoy and respect the qualities brought out with the blend. That Yunnan “peppery” flavor often becomes lost with the higher grades or mutates uncontrollably with the lower grades, shows up in just the right amounts in this tea to blend nicely with the strong sweetness and dark, fruity aromatics. For the last session, I used the remainder of my sample, which took up between a third and a half of the gaiwan. It produced a far more complex brew, but most notably intensified the pepper-fruit interaction. I was excited about this, because I am usually unable to receive decent results with a large amount of leaf when it comes to Dian hongs. The texture usually ends up being too thick and muddles the more subtle tones somehow.

The aftertaste and mouthfeel are thick and starchy, giving rise to that “yam-like” perception often received from this type of tea. It’s always something I look for with Dian hongs, and this one does it fairly well. The aftertaste in this one, however, often becomes a bit salty and it if overbrewed at all, it is difficult to get past the maltiness, especially in later steeps when many of the initially interesting flavors have considerably declined in intensity. The liquor is also noticeably murky, but seems to clear up after the first few steeps.

After the disappointment with the Huangshan Maofeng, I made sure to wait a while before tasting this for the first time. The first session took place a week or so ago and the pu’er aromatics were mostly absent at that point. Today I re-tasted this Dian hong and could not detect pu’er tainting, but still came to the same general conclusion: I am not a fan.

It is completely possible that I’m being a spoiled brat after tasting the two top grades of Dian hong first (specifically Verdant Tea’s “Golden Fleece” and Teavivire’s “Golden Tip”) before drinking the lower quality stuff. But indeed, this is low quality stuff. Just from the dry leaves I can see all kinds of random treasures that shouldn’t necessarily be there and provide inconsistency: tons of twigs and off-color leaves/stems. The wet leaves provide more insight: to one extreme, a green-colored stem-bud combination that seemed to have escaped processing all together, and overly processed broken leaves to the next extreme. They smell somewhat artificial and highly pungent, masking the yam-like qualities Dian hongs are known for. Subtle aromas of chocolate and malt are present, but I am left grasping for them when it comes to the liquor.

The liquor is ruddy and cloudy in all but the first steep, which has decent clarity. The flavor is aggressive and potent, which by itself is not terrible, but it’s much too metallic for me and leaves a drying aftertaste. There are some nice peppery notes available that are enjoyable on their own, but I can’t really find a base for all the rough flavors floating around, making the brew seem unstable. I can imagine this might be decent to use as a blend as ESGREEN suggests in their description, perhaps to add depth and roughness, but I find it unpleasant on its own. Given a current price of less than four dollars per two ounces, I suppose I shouldn’t complain.

Ummm, I hate to say this, but this tea was really tainted on its way here. The ESGREEN samples this time around consisted of pu’er, a black tea, and this maofeng. I’m sure you can guess what occurred. Into the fourth steep one of the main flavors is still like young sheng and the wet leaves smell like spent sheng leaves. It certainly fades from the first steep which just tasted like diluted, vegetal sheng pu’er, but the heavy aromas of aged tea really seeped into these leaves during the months of travel and nothing but a single layer of plastic to shield them.

I used half the sample for this review, so I’ll let the rest air out for a while before I taste this tea again, but I believe the damage is already done. However, there are some things I can speak of that were not affected. While the dry leaves are somewhat faded in coloration, they seem to have been made from decent quality material. Downy hairs are clearly noticeable on many and once wet, the appearance is brought back to life with bright greens and delicate small leaves. Few mottled leaves or odd colors present. While many are broken, they are generally broken in half or quarters, so most of it is probably due to crumbling during shipping. This is opposed to chunks missing from sides of leaves or holes in the middle of them. The serrated edges are very much intact as well.

Addendum:
The above I wrote about a month ago. After this much time of airing out and also tasting another lovely Huangshan Maofeng from Teavivre, I went back to this tea and gave it another shot. Thankfully, it wasn’t like I was drinking shengpu-flavored green tea, but unfortunately, there was nothing else left. The scents of smoke and young shengpu are still caught up in the wet leaves and aroma of the liquor in the first two steeps, but the flavor is practically absent. Long two-minute steeps in the gaiwan provided no remedy, only bitter water. It’s impossible to taste any of the sweet, vegetal, and nutty qualities that I now love about this type of green tea. ESGREEN should definitely reevaluate either their shipping methods or their tea choices when sending samples. The all heicha/pu’ercha sample packs in the past worked well, but this past round was just a good way to ruin what probably could have been a decent green tea.

I tried this sample from Esgreen twice: once on my own with notes and once with a close friend who enjoys pu’ercha during our weekly weiqi session.

I have mixed opinions on this tea. The flavor is interesting, and although the profile is strange for sheng, it’s pleasant enough. The smoky Lapsang-esque aromatics are very apparent, and seem far too potent to suggest natural nuances from the leaves themselves. It may hint at “yan wei,” or smokiness resulting from wood stove drying as opposed to sun drying. This is usually caused when the leaves are dried during the summer months, when the rainy skies prevent the leaves to be dried outside by sunlight, and these summer shengs are generally considered to be lower quality. I won’t pretend to know whether or not that is true for this sheng, but the unbalance of the smoke seems to come from the exterior of the leaf rather than the interior (cf. the Esgreen 2008 sheng zhuan sample from this round, which is also smoky, but does not taste as “smoked”).

The sweetness brought on by the buds is apparent. Besides woody flavors that are more noticeable in the beginning of the session, fruity and sweet floral flavors abound. However, there is a serious lack of power in the leaves. The amount of small leaves and buds may account for both of these features. Considering an age of only about two years for these cakes, the serious lack of texture and absence of throaty kuwei is concerning. The liquor is mild and presents an almost indiscernible cha qi, sitting somewhat unpleasantly in the stomach. The aftertaste is sweet, and there is a very slight bitterness present. I would not say that this is one of the strong points, however.

With sweetness and smokiness being the most noteworthy aspects of this very young sheng, I would not consider storing this for aging. Besides flavor, which begins wearing off after five steeps, this sheng provides a pretty boring session and doesn’t have much else to it.

I must sincerely thank Teavivre (Angel) for the opportunity to try this. I’ve been reading loads and loads on pu’ercha recently (and working through quite a bit of samples), and I would definitely recommend this as a learning experience. Recently I had a (very long) session with this sheng over a couple games of weiqi with a friend who was also impressed with this tea.

I would probably not consider Teavivre to be a go-to vendor for pu’ercha, but what they do have seem to be of a great quality. I’m strongly considering purchasing a tuo of this sheng to age further, because I feel it has great potential and is already quite good as it stands. I may instead go with the 2006 Fengqing cake they sell, which from what I have read has similar properties to this tuocha (at least from what I can compare) and is thought highly of in the blogosphere. I have of late been leaning towards the acquisition of tuochas, though, as they are quite convenient for me: smaller amount of leaf compared to the standard 357g cakes, allowing multiple to be purchased for close to the same price as one cake (which means variety and less per cake on “tuition” costs if I end up making an error in judgment), but still enough leaf to age for a while.

Anyway, back to the sheng at hand. The compression of the tuo is extremely high. The sample bag containing an intact chunk was like a rock and refused to be broken up cooperatively until after a rinse of near-boiling water. The compression shows in the wet leaves, which are a right mess of fragmented leaves and small pieces, but the resulting liquor proves mature, although somewhat murky in early steeps. In fact, both the leaves and the liquor are noticeably dark for younger sheng. Midway through the session, the coloration becomes a dark amber with a faint, but nonetheless noticeable lighter meniscus. All together, these signs seem to point to good storage and a decent bit of aging.

The liquor, while not entirely “complex” in flavor, provides a very smooth mouthfeel that translates nicely into a sweet aftertaste and a cooling huigan. Later on more of a sparkling texture is apparent mid-sip. To add balance, there is a strong, enveloping kuwei (bitterness) in the throat that is not at all unpleasant and lingers expectedly. Based on so many fragmented leaves, the taste is actually far less bitter (and far sweeter) that I would have expected. Sewei (unpleasant astringency) is minimal and mostly detected upon the tongue tip and lips. There are light notes from the fruity spectrum to add depth and touches of tobacco flavors that provide a robustness, separating it from the youthful sheng with grassy, floral complexions. Sweet floral and caramel aromas are trapped under the gaiwan lid, while added deep fruity scents show up in the empty cup.

By the third steep, a developing cha qi is present and becomes quite strong. Good bursts of positive energy that linger even past the 15 or so steeps that this tea can easily last for. Really, I’m quite impressed. This has become one of my favorite younger shengs that I’ve tasted.

Ahhh, right before I was about to post this I found a bit of black string poking out from the wet leaves. No matter; that’s what a strainer is for.

I’ve tasted this one twice now. This was the first loose leaf pu’er that I’ve prepared, and I definitely underestimated the amount of leaf that I should use the first time. More is definitely better with this shou. For me, about a third of my gaiwan works pretty well considering the leaves don’t expand much after water hits them.

The dry leaf aroma is spicy, dry, and woody. The leaves are short, stocky, and thin with faded black, and light brown colorations. They remind me of black tea leaves. After a wash of around ten seconds the leaves reveal a thick and earthy aroma like rich and fertile soil. There are also some notes of cocoa, grapes, and the second time I tried it, some faint funky smell like spoiled grapes. Kind of off-putting, but not awful.

The broth ends up being quite nice. The first steep is very thick and dark, but not so much so that I can’t see to the bottom of the cup. Later on, as steeps progress, it becomes darker and murky. Tea oils are also apparent on the surface.

Flavor-wise, it’s a bit of a weaker brew as I alluded to at the beginning. I first began with Teavivre’s recommended steep times, but found them to produce a more one-dimensional and shallow flavor. I do 10" for the first and 20" for the second steep, but usually jump to something above a minute for the third and something like five minutes for the fourth. I can maybe get one or two extra steeps after that, but they typically aren’t note-worthy.

This shou has a very woody flavor, which is always the top note for each steep. Later on, a really sweet and peaty flavor mingles with the woodsy notes while dry, spicy features rise throughout the session. At some points, I can taste some fruity dimensions, like a wine-y aspect that provides both sweetness and a tad bit of tartness. Later on during the session, usually during the fourth steep, it tastes really leathery, with an almost oily mouthfeel to match. Otherwise, I suppose I could describe this tea as “smooth” texturally, but the mouthfeel isn’t very interesting overall, although it becomes faintly sparkly during the very last steep. I can, however, get a decent aftertaste following most steeps, which happens to be very sweet.

Other than a faint metallic undertone in the first steep, a bit of an odd aroma to the wet leaves, and a little oiliness this shou is pretty clean. It provides most of the things I would look for in a shou, but doesn’t really bring anything new to the table.

Thanks to Teavivre for this sample!

I’m not the biggest green tea drinker, but this is a new favorite of mine. It’s sweet, fresh, light, and crisp. All the things one usually seeks out in a green tea with the addition of some nice oolong-y characteristics and a basic flavor framework that reminds me of a dragonwell. The leaves are an awesome shade of vivid green and smell very dragonwell-like: oats and nuts and potent veggies. I haven’t decided whether I prefer gong fu or Western style with this one yet, but each has it’s pros.

Gong fu style
This allows for a huge change in flavors from steep to steep, but getting more than three solid steeps is rare. But let me tell you, those three steeps are pretty awesome. It’s like a fifteen-steep session condensed to one fifth! With about 1/4 to 1/3 of my gaiwan full of dried leaf, 175 F water, and a seven second first steep (no rinse) it comes out wonderfully. I receive notes of fresh hay, a malty sweetness, thick and “chewy” vegetal qualities, and faint tones of nuts. Maybe almonds? The liquor’s color has great clarity and is so light and vivid it’s almost neon.

The second steep at about 14 seconds brings a lively mouthfeel with a sort of sparkling texture. A new nuance that reminds me of whole wheat toast becomes most apparent and the nutty qualities become more pronounced. The third steep seems to do well somewhere between 30 seconds and one minute. Twenty seconds is a bit too short and it comes out really weak, and one minute introduces some bitterness and astringency (two things that usually aren’t present with this tea except for extra long steep times). The nutty and toasty qualities subside a great deal at this point and are replaced with a strong herbal quality. It’s far more “green.”

With the aforementioned leaf to water ratio, a fourth steep is possible, but it’s flavor faded and it has a heavy mouthfeel. It comes out like a mixture of steep 2 and 3.

Western style
While the flavor doesn’t change dramatically between steeps, each steep is lovely in its own way. Western style produces a light-bodied cup with great character. The “darker” flavors like toast and nuts and such aren’t as apparent this way, but instead blend in with the other nuances so that all the flavors kind of meet in the middle. Yet, a lively, sparkly/fizzy mouthfeel helps add another dimension to keep things interesting.

The main drawbacks to this method, for me at least, is I have to use a ton of leaf. I did 3 heaping teaspoons in my 16 oz cast iron with 175 F water. I performed the recommended one minute steeping time, took the leaves out, and poured some off. Still really weak. So I plopped the leaves back in and went for another minute. This worked much better.

Ultimately, I’ll be using Western brewing when I want a sipping tea and gong fu when I want a short, but power-packed session. I also prefer gong fu to pull out the best flavors this tea offers, like that whole wheat toast note that I look forward to every time I drink this one. I think the textural intrigues of this tea are pulled out much more easily with Western style, though.

There’s a good chance that I’ll be stocking this one as my one green tea on hand at some point. :)

So, going off of KS’s steeping parameters, I tried this one again. I used boiling water, the other half of my sample, filled my 16oz cast iron pot to about 12oz capacity with no rinse, a bit more than one minute duration. The liquor was an extremely clear dark brown-amber color. It felt like more of an embodiment of the first two steeps I had done when I tasted this gong fu style. But it was still really weak in flavor, and it just seemed to dissipate and left me grasping for the rest of it. Western style, the mouthfeel felt more “chalky” to me, but there was an added cooling effect that went unnoticed previously.

Yet, as I’m sipping through the pot, I keep getting a thick musty/fishy kind of taste at the bottom of each cup. This is noticeable to me in the aroma of the empty cup and the taste once the liquor has cooled. It’s not really sitting in the stomach right, either. I noticed this the first time, but didn’t comment in case it was some combination of something I ate and the tea, but it occurred this time as well. I generally have a pretty weak stomach, especially with heavy creams or chocolate and such, but teas are usually okay with me. This one not so much.

Anywho, I trust KS’s judgment and taste buds, and hopefully inconsistencies can be explained by me just getting a bad batch or that I have a completely different view of shu pu’er. But we seem to have had pretty similar opinions of past shus, so I dunno! In any case, the leaf quality, lack of depth, and negative cha qi are things I can’t get over regardless of the other odd things I came across with this shu, so I’m sticking with my rating. :/

Sigh. This one isn’t working for me.

I started my session with a close inspection of the dried leaves. The sample was made of one large intact chunk from the tuo, so I was happy to see fully intact leaves and minimal chunks n’ dust at the bottom of the pouch. I was about to take my pu’er pick out and divide the sample in two, but as I took the chunk out of the bag, I realized it was quite flexible. Either the tuo was very loosely compacted or the sample really loosened up on its way over the ocean.

Yet, as I was pulling intact leaves apart, I noticed a very thin, black object. Thinking perhaps it was a stem/vein I gently tugged at it and the leaves around it so as not to break anything. But then I observed it continuing up and over the other leaves and it’s sheen made it apparent it was not leaf/plant derivative. Oh boy… I pulled it out from between the leaves and was left with a two inch long black stringy object tapered in its diameter. Hmmmm, hair or string? While both are generally considered to be “okay” if found in pu’er from what I’ve read, the fact it was in a sample and also present when processing (since it was within the leaves) seems to indicate some poor quality.

Well, in either case, I was going to taste this sample (minus the questionable object) and hopefully I would enjoy it so much that the prize I discovered would be rendered moot. Yeah, that wasn’t the case.

I used half the sample with boiling water in my gaiwan. Wash was around ten seconds, the first steep was fifteen. This is probably the greatest example of incorrect first impressions. The first steep was awesome. There wasn’t much to it, but there was this interesting nuance that I’ve never tasted before in tea, especially not in shu pu’er. It lingered gently on the tongue and roof of the mouth after a sip and passed in and out of taste during a sip. It was some delicate amalgamation of sweet, nutty, woody. There were also notes of coffee and I think cocoa. While it wasn’t incredible and was weak-bodied, it seemed to suggest these flavors would be enhanced or transformed. I excitedly performed my next steep at twenty seconds…

And got nothing. Ughhh it was so disappointing. One dimensional, weak flavor, barely any aftertaste, oily mouthfeel, and a dry feeling in the throat. Worst part was that the interesting flavor completely disappeared. Okay, maybe I didn’t steep for long enough. Upped the time to half a minute for the next steep. Meh. New note of apple and a more metallic aftertaste. Tastes kind of burnt. Still quite weak. There was also a bit of a sparkling mouthfeel, which I liked, but didn’t make the steep much better.

Okay, let’s bring it to one minute. Nada. 5 minutes? Nope, just tastes burnt. I probably would have received better results if I would have used the entire sample, but still…

So what did the leaves have to say? Could they explain this disappointing session? Quite so. The “leaves” were made up of about 20% blackened stem, 75% black halves of leaves that disintegrate with slight rubbing, and 5% greenish brown leaves that practically rip from their own weight. Actually, when I attempted (and easily succeeded) to rip one of these lighter leaves, the topmost membrane of the leaf face separated from the body of the leaf. Ew.

There’s a good chance that I won’t be drinking the rest of the sample. Maybe I just got some really bad fluke, which I’m hoping for the sake of the other Esgreen tasters on here. I’m anxious to see what you all have to say.

So this is a backlog from ages and ages ago… I just never got around to logging my notes and the new tea samples kept rolling in soooo yeahhhh. I suppose it’s best to catch up with the old ESGREEN samples before I get around to the new ones. :) Thankfully this was a memorable tea and I wrote extensive notes on it!

Anywho, this was a pretty tasty tea. In line with the name, this tea is quite “dark,” indeed. The wet leaves are pungent, smelling of age, old books, damp moss, and rich fruits. They’re pretty mulch-like, kind of like coffee grounds. The liquor’s aroma is much like the wet leaves’ but with added buttery notes and an apple-like finish. The addition of the bamboo makes it pretty interesting. It’s like some hybrid of a shu pu’er and a medium oxidized oolong.

As far as flavor goes, this tea is well-balanced. And I’m surprised I find myself saying this, because I would think mixing aspects of green flavor spectrum and the darker aspects of the earthy and spicy flavor spectra would not mesh well. Yet, the greener qualities remained subtle enough as undertones to mold the overall flavor, without causing conflict. Overall, this tea is very sweet and rich. Earthy, peaty flavors are very strong and remain that way, more or less, throughout the eight steeps I took this tea to.

For the first half, a strong peppery taste greeted me during the first steep, and then gradually faded with each steep until it became hardly noticeable. Subtle tones of grass and vegetal qualities remained present until the fifth steep where they just seemed to have dropped off. Woody notes became apparent into the second steep in addition to smoky aromatics that snuggled in between the greens and the woods.

The fifth steep really changed it up. There was this mixture of pepper, cornmeal (I wrote “like a tortilla”) and a new, but very slight beefy flavor that churned out a pleasant steep with a sparkling texture. After this, things circled back to the beginning with sweet earthiness most pronounced, buttery pepper flavors underneath, and barky, smoky flavors bringing in the rear. A tingly spiciness was felt on the tongue.

In regards to mouthfeel, I really enjoyed this tea. For most steeps, the texture was milky smooth, but every other steep introduced a slightly different textural element. First it was an evolving bitterness, which transformed into a subtle huigan, then a cooling sensation, then the sparkling, and finally spiciness. Considering the $19/450g price, it’s a pretty great deal. I would definitely stock up if it weren’t for the horrendous shipping prices… Still, very happy I was able to taste it!

Thank you David Duckler!! This was a generous sample added to a purchase I made for a sheng cake David found for me on his last sourcing trip to China. I was not expecting any samples or a note since I didn’t actually buy from Verdant Tea. As it turns out, I received both! What a nice guy, that David Duckler.

Anywho, I was excited to try this pleasant surprise. I was not disappointed! This is a very clean sheng. Almost no earthiness, no musty or musky smells, very nice, delicate leaves. I was actually able to see the fuzzy, downy hairs that are quite apparent on the wet leaves, and the dry leaves are abundant with silvery down. There is a huge range of colors, though. They range from a faded yellow to a dark brown-purple. Nearly every leaf has patches of bruising, making them look more like the leaves of an oolong. Some empty stems were present, but nothing abnormal.

When dry, the leaves smell amazing. Definitely one of my favorite dry leaf aromas so far. It’s something like vanilla, cream, and smelling the skin of a ripe fruit. When wet, this transforms into Raisinets, vanilla, florals, and tart berries. Later on, the aroma becomes darker and heavier, with some earthy notes.

The liquor is a beautiful golden amber. In addition to the scents mentioned above, there is this very slight fresh cucumber smell that appears in the eighth or ninth steep. The flavor is pretty light and mellow. Very minimal cha qi to this sheng. The mouthfeel is quite smooth and creamy throughout most steeps, becoming sparkling much later on. There is a very delicate bittersweet huigan, but it isn’t very lasting. It’s most apparent in the first few steeps, along with a tingling spiciness. But again, this tea isn’t very energetic. These “lively” textural features fade off during the middle steeps and return (barely) into the final steeps (around the tenth). I used between 3.5 and 4 grams in my gaiwan, but I think next time I’ll do closer to five. I started out with 13 seconds for the first steep and still received a pretty mild flavor.

There are some very interesting flavors in this sheng. Most notable are the florals and fruity notes. At first they aren’t too noticeable, but they climb in intensity and remain strong from steep 4 on to the end. The fruit notes started somewhat berry-like, and gradually became more plum-like (there is even a hint of melon in the final steeps). These fruity flavors blend well with a strong, lingering sweetness on top of every steep. However, to balance this sweetness, a nice tartness is present, coming through as a grapefruit/citrus flavor. It seems to be taking aging quite well. There isn’t a very strong youthful taste to this one, but then again, I can’t really taste that “aged” quality either.

So, this sheng isn’t as stimulating as I was expecting, but it has great flavor. Oh yeah, another thing I noticed was that the aftertaste didn’t linger much. The flavor evolves slowly, but then just seems to evaporate once the sip was over. Around steeps 4 and 5, this improves a bit, the body becoming more full with increased depth, but still, on average, a very light tea.

Two posts in one! What a deal!
I decided to try this one again before I made a post with a different gong fu method for young sheng pu’ers that I saw online involving a great deal of pouring into multiple vessels to cool water during the infusion: . It seems similar to traditional Chinese glass methods used for green teas. It sounded interesting so I thought I’d give it a try with this sheng, since it is relatively young, with more dry leaf than used for the above notes.

It turned out quite well! I was surprised by large difference in the level of depth and complexity. It was much sweeter also. However, I’m not sure whether it was more or less bitter. It t seemed like it was more bitter than the first time, but I’m betting that it’s because I used a higher leaf to water ratio and the extra contact with the water just resulted in natural bitterness from the extra steeping time. Yet, the steep times were far shorter than the first tasting I did (only 3-4 seconds compared to the 13 seconds for the first steep). At any rate, it is a pleasant bitterness, not overpowering, and doesn’t subtract from the actual flavors. However, the sensation of huigan and extra creaminess of the liquor was definitely noticeable. The aftertaste was much sweeter with an added melon-like flavor and left the mouth feeling cool like after eating a mint candy, but without the minty flavor. It’s also a bit more stimulating.

I’m always learning :)

I’m not sure why I never logged this one. This was one of the first loose-leaf green teas I tried. I think I was just lazy. I did like this tea, though, and I’m sad to see it go. I was even sadder to not be able to finish the last of it, for I found mold on the leaves tonight despite the airtight tin it was in. :( I guess I had it for a little too long…

Anyway, this was a great sipping tea for the afternoon or early evening. It had a very interesting butternut squash note to it that I really liked. Rarely did it become bitter, and had nice light vegetal qualities to it. I alternated between gong fu and western styles and liked the respective results equally.

Thank you to David and Verdant Tea! This sample came with the David’s Choice sampler.

This tea is fantastic. I’m really having trouble criticizing anything about it. Yet, oddly enough, I’m also having trouble finding anything “new” in this tea. It’s a tieguanyin for sure and it gives you everything you’ve ever wanted in a tieguanyin. So why is this one amazing? Because it does every little thing it’s supposed to do perfectly and nothing more. Every tieguanyin aspect is empowered and bursts forth. You really get a feel for the leaves’ essence, which is brought out beautifully. It’s a masterpiece.

The dry leaves are in excellent condition and were stored very well. It was like trying to break into Fort Knox to get at these leaves. First David Duckler’s silver sample pouch, then another small vacuum-sealed purple gift pouch which I assume is from Wei Wei, and finally another folded over plastic pouch with the leaves. They smelled fantastic! Sweet, floral, green and fresh, with just a touch of lilac. They were very hard, rolled extremely tightly, and were quite large. Almost every single one had a touch of brown stem protruding from the dense light green to army green ball. The colors were quite consistent and had great, shining coloration.

When wet, the leaves expanded wonderfully. I always love checking on them right after the wash, when the creases of the leaves are glowing with a brilliant light green, juxtaposed to the now dark forest green of the curled leaf faces. Normally when I check the leaves, I tend to count or pick out the leaves that are completely whole. This time, I was counting the leaves that were incomplete. The smallest leaf chunk was about the size of a dime, and there were only 3 loose stems. Considering this contained the bottom of the sample, I’d say that’s quite impressive. Most leaves were 2.5 to 3 inches, a smaller pile was between 1 and 2 inches. Most leaf edges were intact and the veins were clear against the leaf face. Bruising was minimal, mostly around the edges, but about 3 leaves out of about 40 were very bruised. Otherwise, every leaf looked pretty much the same.

The wet leaf aroma was like candied soy beans (is this a thing?) and snap peas. They smelled extremely fresh and bright, with some darker undertones like over-boiled broccoli and stone. At some points, they became yeasty-smelling and biscuity. Much later on, they took on aromas of freshly cut grass, melon, and tiny hints of fresh mushrooms.

Steeping parameters: 100mL gaiwan, ~3.5g leaf, water temperature increased with steep number from 178-190 F.

Steep 1 (5"): Buttery sweet, classic tieguanyin, grassy, boiled greens, parsley, undertones of honeydew. Mouthfeel is light and creamy. Very light green, silvery liquor.

Steep 2 (12"): Increased parsley spice, biting vegetal flavors, increased boiled greens. Aftertaste is cool, refreshing, with a slight pinch of herbal spice. Liquor is slightly more green, still crystal clear, very minimal tea dust.

Steep 3 (16"): Tastes like tieguanyin in its essence. It’s very vegetal, rich, and tongue-tinglingly cool. The mouthfeel is even more spicy, especially on the tongue, while the rest sports a very minimal astringency and a returning vegetal aspect. After a sip, nearly the entire flavor profile returns on the exhale quite strongly. This steep has exceptional character and mouthwatering depth. Liquor has added yellow tints to the above coloration.

Steep 4 (25"): A perfect mesh between Jin Xuan and Tieguanyin. The mouthfeel fights between vegetal and milky smooth while the flavor exhibits both the grassy and savory spectrum. The aftertaste is more like very sweet zucchini and that lingering bubblegum taste after you chew all the flavor out of it. Normally not the most delicious thing, but it seems to work in this. There is also many more floral notes in this steep, mimicking the delicate lilac notes of the dry leaves’ aroma.

Steep 5 (30"): In line with the heavier notes in the wet leaves, and a deeper liquor color, the flavor becomes a bit darker and earthier here. Notes of moss and stone are quite apparent and give base to the lighter, greener notes of before. The body and aftertaste become more oolong-y compared to the flighty aromatics of green and white teas that had been present prior. After I finished drinking this steep, there were some nuances of fresh strawberries in the aftertaste.

Steep 6 (45"): Very sweet and honey-like. Small hints of tapioca in the undertones. Earthier flavors are slightly more noticeable, but mostly because the greener flavors have faded somewhat. This steep is much like the last, but just less potent. However, the strawberry flavor in the aftertaste is more pronounced.

This is where I deviated from my first tasting. Originally I did 2.5 grams of dry leaf in my gaiwan, but this time, I finished off the sample with my gaiwan, so it was something like 3-3.5 grams. Ummmm, these leaves are monstrous and thick. They pretty much revert back to what they were when they were picked right off the plant, so needless to say by this steep the lid of my gaiwan was resting on leaves, not porcelain. However, I must say I was happier with this ratio of leaves to water than the first time I tasted this tea. Much more impressive complexity and far more powerful flavors. Anyway, I plopped the leaves in my Yixing teapot (~12 oz) and poured just enough water to cover the leaves completely for the next few steeps. Besides, I wanted an excuse to give my Yixing pot a little treat. :)

Steep 7 (2’): This steep was one of my favorites both times I tasted this tea. In order of least to most apparent: “tieguanyin,” honey, buttered bread, grass, cream of spinach, parsley, tapioca. This time around, I got a sauteed mushroom flavor that showed up in the aftertaste as well that I really like, actually, even though I certainly was not expecting it.

Steep 8 (3’): More earthy than the last, with a similar taste, but with less complexity. Ahhh but it certainly is gooood.

Steep 9 (>5’): Just filled up the Yixing and let it sit. Came out pretty weak, but still very tasty.

For sure, an all time favorite tea of mine. I’m curious if anyone else had this in their David’s Choice samples. The picture is one I took with my phone for my own uses, so forgive the quality. :) Feel free to replace it with something better if anyone else has a sample of this.

Thanks to Angel and Teavivre for this sample!

I really wanted to love this one, but it’s just not happening. I mean, it’s nice to sip on when I’m not thinking about it, but it’s not the delicious tieguanyin I’m used to. I understand this is a Taiwan version, but I’ve had jin xuans that taste more like tieguanyin than this tea. This tastes much more like mao xie (hairy crab) oolong than tieguanyin, actually. The sweet, potent florals of tieguanyin are pretty dull in this tea, and the added roasting just adds awkward charcoal flavors that make the taste seem unbalanced and somewhat stale. It’s really strong for the first couple steeps, too. I have to make the wash extra long just so I don’t have overbearing burnt barley and metallic flavors in the first steep.

The leaves and liquor have aromas that smell like roasted wheat and unripe fruits, mixed with some cooked vegetables and lots of grass. Actually, most of the steeps have a very grassy profile. Into the later steeps, things improve a bit with notes of asparagus and genmaicha, finally landing on some really vegetal qualities of tiequanyin. There isn’t much sweetness to this one, which seems to contribute a great deal to the unbalance of flavors. There are a few faint traces of melon, as well, and after sneaking a few peaks at some reviews of this tea, I agree with KS about the aftertaste seeming a bit like watermelon rinds. It’s interesting, but not the most satisfying.

The mouthfeel is common and uninteresting. It typically gets a bit creamy and slightly juicy during middle steeps, but it isn’t anything extraordinary. Most of the steeps end up being a bit dry.

Overall, this one is just “okay” to me. Nothing jumped out at me and the unbalance of flavors really threw things askew. I dunno, it just did not match up to all the other oolongs that I have tried.

Edit:
Based on the conversation with KS below, I tried this again with a method closer to the suggested style: 4g per 100mL at boiling, wash, 25",35",45". I’m not sure if it’s that much better, but it is different. I’m also not sure which I prefer, flavor-wise. There are definitely some new blends of flavors. There are more fruity nuances, it’s surprisingly sweeter, and isn’t as bitter as I was expecting for such a high leaf to water ratio. It certainly is more bitter this way, however. With these added dimensions, it feels a bit more balanced, but the body becomes more monotonous. I still can’t get past the charcoal flavors, which are even more potent. Now that this is more severe with this session, I’m now recalling that every time I’ve tried this tea, it’s given me a headache. :/ Sigh, this just isn’t happening, folks.

Thank you so much to both David Duckler and Master Bi for this opportunity!

This is one incredible tea. I must admit that I have never had a Lapsang Souchong before this tea, as I always had the assumption I would dislike the smokiness. I occasionally like the hint of “smoke” flavors in some higher roast oolongs or pu’ers, but the smell of actual thick smoke has me gagging. This tea, though, has shown me what Lapsang Souchong can really be all about. It is the Truth of flavored teas. The smoke enhancements are so well integrated into the leaves’ flavor profile here that it is impossible to tell where the tea ends and the flavoring begins. They seem one and the same. The flavors are so well enmeshed and it produces this savory, textural beauty of taste. And it certainly is a taste like no other. I’ll take you through my gong fu session, but the images and descriptions I use to convey this tea I will admit that I would have been confused and possibly even turned off by them if someone had described them to me when discussing a tea. Yet, somehow, this tea manages to turn this unlikely flavor profile into something incredible.

I use about 2 grams of dry leaf in my 100 mL gaiwan, a bit less than a quarter full. I first came up with this ratio because I was being stingy and wanted to make this small sample last forever, but [thankfully!] it turned out to work quite well. While I’m on the topic, I’ll mention that they look a great deal like a heavily roasted mi lan xiang’s dry leaves.

Wash: 3 +/-1 seconds

Steep 1 (4"): Based on the smell of the wet leaves, and especially the dry leaves (and also my [incorrect] perception of what smoked tea was), I expected the first sip to assault me with deep, smoky flavors and a drying texture. Psht! This was nothing like that. This is juicy. It’s savory. It certainly is thick, but has the most brilliant, clear amber liquor to juxtapose it. I think the best way to describe this taste is to attempt to call to mind a perfectly barbecued pork brisket. Yes, that’s correct. Imagine a succulent, moist brisket seasoned with a humble spread of salt and a dry rub of natural spices allowed to slow cook for hours in a smoker with natural hickory or mesquite wood. Perhaps add a touch of citrus zest when it’s finished. Yup. That’s this tea to me, who has lived in the southern US his whole life, and grown well-accustomed to the flavors of awesome barbecue.

Steep 2 (10"): Oh yeah, so if you could tell by the last steep’s description, the whole “smoky” taste wasn’t that overbearing. In fact, it wasn’t until this steep that I was actually made well aware of it at the top of each sip. Like I mentioned before, this tea isn’t boasting it’s smoky flavor. Instead, the smoke intensifies and draws out the depth and interesting notes of the tea leaves, putting a slight spin on them. The savory goodness and salty/spiciness also increases here, all coming together with the meaty flavors, rounding out the body and creating a very deep complexity. The mouthfeel becomes thicker and spicier, and with the increased “meaty” flavors, becomes almost “chewy.” There is also a tingling felt all over the surface of the tongue. This is also the first point where I can really tell that this is tea. That “pure” black tea flavor becomes very prominent, and one can pick out the inherent tea leaf sweetness brought into this steep.

Steep 3 (20"): At this point, all the flavor nuances kind of meet in the middle, creating an even deeper, thicker body than before. The liquor’s appearance becomes a darker golden brown to match, although none of the clarity is lost. The sweetness is also much stronger in this steep. It almost seems like a nice honey glaze on the brisket I mentioned above. Ohhhhh it’s good.

As a side note, while I was impatiently waiting for the next steep to do it’s thing, I took a sip of the still-warm wash and was astounded. Relatively speaking, it’s the best wash I’ve tasted for a tea. It’s like a reallyyyy weak version of steep 1, but twice as sweet. I’m pretty sure the next time I taste this I’m going to forget the wash…

Steep 4 (30"): So at this point the smoke becomes less powerful, actually allowing other flavors to rise above it. In this and the next steep, that sweet glaze-like flavor I mentioned from the last steep is most prominent. In the next, a honey sweetness is most apparent. This steep is very similar to the last, besides a slight apple-y flavor. Hmmmm… applewood-smoked bacon, anyone? Actually, the aroma of the wet leaves becomes very reminiscent of this, especially after the first few steeps and the smoky aromas begin to fade.

At this point, I’ll mention the aftertaste, which is thick, tangy, and smoky. The most amazing flavors really come out on the exhale after every sip.

Steep 5 (40"): From most to least expressive: honey, smoke, spice (and lots of it), meat, savory, apple, salt. The mouthfeel at this point is very spicy and lingers longgg after a sip. The insides of my cheeks and roof of mouth are left nice and tingly.

Steep 6 (1’): At this point the tea starts fading, although the same basic flavor profile as the last steep is displayed. I think I took this tea to a few more steeps the first time I tried it, but I didn’t have anything noteworthy on them.

So, all in all, this tea is a game changer. It has completely redefined what I perceive flavored or scented teas to be. There is a hand-rolled jasmine sample that came in my David’s Choice box as well, and I’m itching to try that one now that I’ve had this, just to see how the scenting has been transcended. At any rate, this Lapsang Souchong is a masterful work of art. I wish I had had something to compare it to previously, as it seems now that any Lapsang Souchong that I consume after this point will seem monotonous and dull. Ah well. Such is tea. :)

I purchased a cake of this during the Cyber Monday Verdant Tea sale. I have been craving pu’er for a while now, and needed something that I could pick apart at leisure while there still being enough to age. It also serves as a distraction from my small, but steadily growing sheng collection, so that I can actually those items age. At any rate, I’ve tasted it a few times since I received it and am quite happy with it, especially considering its young age.

The dry cake’s aroma is lovely. Very spicy, woodsy, with hints of old books and laminate. The leaves are very well-compacted. The last few times I used about 5 grams (+/- 1 gram) in my trusty 100 mL gaiwan, using boiling water. The wet leaves smell delicious. They’re very potent, smelling of sweet earth, musk, and parchment. There are some spicy raisin-y scents hiding somewhere, but they aren’t the most apparent.

The liquor’s aroma is like sweet, spiced plums. Or maybe prunes? It’s a very rich, deep scent. The liquor’s appearance is dark brown, tinged with red. It really reminds me of coffee. Later on, it becomes much darker, almost black, tinged with a russet coloration.

Usual gong fu session: 5" wash, 5", 6", 8", 12", 20", 1’20", >5’

On to the flavor! The first steep is filled with raisin-y goodness, tons of spices, a bit of peat, woodsy, and very salty. Thankfully, the rich sweetness of the raisin and peaty/earthy flavors counteracts the saltiness, but it seems like there is a tad more than there needs to be. However, I think it helps to create the most interesting mouthfeel I’ve sensed in a while that I only find in this steep. It’s this crazy slippery feeling that makes it feel like the tea doesn’t even come into contact with my tongue, like there is some weird force field surrounding it. It’s really quite weird. But as if that wasn’t enough, it’s also incredibly creamy and creates a nice cooling effect in the throat. Just when I thought I had felt everything, the last sip, which had cooled off considerably, produced a fizzy sensation. Ahh pu’er, so unpredictable.

The next steep introduced caramel and earth flavors, really filling the body and rounding out the flavor profile. The crazy sensations above sort of dissipated a bit, all decreasing in intensity and duration. At this point an aftertaste begins to develop that turns incredibly spicy. Later on, it just catches in the throat, thick, hot, and lingering. Kind of like the aromatic spiciness of wasabi that catches in your nasal cavity. The fourth steep really presents the spicy profile. Seems like a mixture of cedar, turmeric, and cinnamon. I’m definitely considering making a chai with this shu. I had great success with a pumpkin spice-chocolate chai I crafted using Verdant’s Zhu Rong black (the girlfriend says its her favorite chai she’s had). I’ll probably make another post here if it turns out well.

Anyway, back to this shu. The last steeps result in a pretty weak brew flavor-wise, but there is this really nice cooling sensation they create that lingers for quite some time. After I was finished after my first tasting, I checked out the wet leaves. I’m not too excited about their condition. They’re really falling apart, peeling away from the central vein like wet paper. Considering it hasn’t been much time since the leaves were pressed, I’m a bit nervous of how they’ll fare after a few years. Hopefully, based on the current flavor, it won’t be much of an issue and will age nicely. I’ll attempt to restrain myself from finishing the cake and compare notes in six months or so.

Wow.

This tea is my new obsession. I must applaud Wang Yanxin for this one and thank Verdant Tea for somehow managing to take this tea away from her. Anyone with the ingenuity to create such a wonderful masterpiece is a tea wizard. With a complexity rivaling many oolongs, a melt-in-your-mouth texture, and deep, rich aromatics, I can say right now that this is an instant favorite of mine.

I don’t even know where to begin describing it. While tasting, I wrote down the names of a plethora of teas I’m familiar with that this one reminded me of in one aspect or another: A dry leaf appearance like Verdant’s Zhu Rong with less gold, aromas of chocolaty goodness like Laoshan black, at times a body similar to a shui xian or mi lan xiang, a liquor with a coloration somewhere between a dian hong and Zhu Rong, hints of orange citrus notes like a huang zhi xiang. This tea is a Frankenstein’s monster of all my beloved teas combined.

Brewing parameters: 100mL gaiwan, ~1/3 full dry leaf, near-boiling water

The dry leaves present a calming aroma of pure tea, heavy malt, and deep chocolaty notes. I can catch undertones of the charcoal roasting, and it adds nicely to the overall scent. After a quick wash, I excitedly took a sniff of the wet leaves, wondering whether they were hiding something. A rich aroma of chocolate, roasted coffee beans, and a slight fruity scent wafted up. It reminds me of this dark chocolate bread that a local bakery near my home town bakes. When it’s fresh, it has this really thick, cocoa-yeasty smell that just hangs in your nostrils much like this tea’s aroma does. I’ll take you through my gong fu session:

Wash (~1") with water cooled from boiling.

Steep 1 (2"): The malty flavor in this steep is really prominent and melds with a pure tea taste to create a full-bodied brew. Underneath, tones of chocolate, hickory? spices, and coffee come into play. There is also this faint tartness that causes a bit of astringency, but also a slippery mouthfeel that becomes very quenching. Right from the start I felt a strong cha qi from this steep.

Steep 2 (3"): The pure tea flavor increases a bit, paired with an addition of honeyed sweetness. Both chocolate and spicy notes become stronger. The tartness also increases, and becomes more orange-like, or maybe tangerine? The body becomes fuller, and more rounded modeled by a very smooth and creamy mouthfeel, which continues on into the next steeps.

Steep 3 (4"): The spices and citrus notes blend together into this undertone of spiced oranges. There is an additional starchy note underneath that reminds me of the Golden Fleece’s sweet potato flavor, but less sweet and without that caramel-y texture. The most intriguing moment of this tea unfolds in this steep. A pure sugar flavor emerges out of nowhere, becoming very prominent in each additional sip. It produces this lightness on the tip of the tongue, forming a tickling/cooling sensation. In addition, the tartness of the orange notes combines with something like dark chocolate to create this “pulling” sensation and something that makes me imagine what chocolate-covered mandarin oranges would taste like. It’s not astringency, though. Maybe somewhere between that spicy mouthfeel and astringency. Kind of like that sensation after eating dark chocolate with nuts with an additional tartness. It’s difficult to describe, but it makes my mouth beg for another sip and I love it.

Steep 4 (5"): Where I typically write my mouthfeel/textural notes, I only have “THE BEST” written. Starchy and honey flavors increase, while malty notes become more subdued. Pure tea and chocolate flavors reign supreme, and that pure sugar taste/sensation remains very noticeable. In addition, a vanilla cream flavor emerges and ties everything into this nice, well-connected bundle of yumminess.

Steep 5 (7"): All tartness seems to drop out at this point, and all I’m left with are sweets and spices. The sugar taste seems to morph a bit here and become more like brown sugar.

Steep 6 (10"): A nice caramel flavor emerges here and blends very nicely with the new brown sugar flavors. Most other nuances remain constant and the starchy/potato-like flavor diminishes. The body is much lighter at this point, but the mouthfeel is so smooth it’s almost melty.

Steep 7 (13): The sugary sweetness fades out here, and is instead replaced by spiciness that is felt on the tongue. Interestingly, there is a fruity flavor on exhale that seems to hint that something new is coming.

Steep 8 (18"): Indeed, tiny hints of a dark fruit/berry flavor peaks out from the bottom of the flavor profile, blending with notes of vanilla cream chocolate, spices, and malt.

Steep 9 (25"): Basically the same as the last, with a lasting thick and spicy mouthfeel.

Steep 10 (35"): In descending order: malt, pure tea, peppery spice, honey, something between apple and raspberry, chocolate, and finally, vanilla cream.

Steep 11 (1’ 10"): Mostly the same as the last steep, but the flavor has faded severely.

This tea just makes me feel awesome. Very comforting, very warm.

Wait! The leaves! How could I forget? The wet leaves’ appearance is interesting. They are either deep black or a chocolate brown in coloration, and it seems these two colors are divided quite equally. Most of them are also very spindly. They’re rolled extremely tightly. Very few stems, but the size and shapes of the leaves are pretty variable.