Cody

Thanks to Angel and Teavivre for this sample!

I’ve been holding off on reviewing this one for a while and give this tea as many tries as I could for the best opinion. It makes a nice cup, but it isn’t really anything I would show off to friends. I fear too much roasting is what did this one in. Charcoal and woody flavors overpower many of the subtler tastes the leaves offer, and tend to cause a fuzzy and drying mouthfeel and a somewhat bitter aftertaste. Thankfully, the leaves have an inherent sweetness to them, and counterbalance this enough to make the overall flavor enjoyable. I have difficulty finding any floral tones throughout steeps, but if I try hard enough I can just pick them out. I find the flavor profile to lean more towards tart fruits than florals, and this is mirrored in both the wet leaf’s aroma and the aftertaste. The first few steeps gong fu style tend to be the most interesting for me. I receive notes of apple, cocoa, and malt in addition to the aforementioned charcoal and wood tastes. Honey flavors creep in into the third or fourth steep, but besides this addition, the complexity goes a bit flat and the flavors fade out quickly for this tea type.

The dry leaves have a nice deep brown appearance and smell of hay, dried fruits, and somewhat biscuity. The wet leaves expand to reveal a very green coloration. They release dark aromas of earth, pure tea, cocoa, and tart berries. They appear in decent shape, although there are a few quite large empty stems. The leaves are, however, very dusty and leave a layer of silt at the bottom of my cup after every steep. Untwisting the the wet leaves, I dragged my thumb across the surface of a leaf and received a fair bit of black specks on the tip.

I suppose my expectations were a bit too high, as this tea just tastes common; there is nothing exciting or unexpected hiding in the leaves. I’m okay with this, though. It’ll give me something to drink when I don’t have time for other complex teas.

Many thanks to Angel and Teavivre for this generous sample!

My first experience with this tea was disappointing, I’m sorry to say. Jasmine teas are generally too strong for me, as I’m really sensitive to potent, perfume-y smells. I prepared it with the expectation that it was a scented tea and was blown away by the jasmine. A headache ensued, and I was not able to get through very many steeps. This was mostly error on my part which I discovered when inspecting the wet leaves. Jasmine flowers are mixed in with the tea leaves…Ahh no wonder. After that experience, I put the tea away for a while and let it rest.

After my nice experience with Pekko Teas’ Jasmine Dragon Tears, my confidence with jasmine teas was renewed. I gave the jasmine silver needle another shot and altered my methods. I went with cooler water (~160 F), maybe a bit less dry leaf (~1/3 100mL gaiwan), and ultra short steeps (one second for first steep, added one second for each successive steep, then three-five additional seconds each steep after the sixth). It turned out to work much better for me. The flavor was much more delicate, the mouthfeel became less syrupy and instead creamy. I was also able to pick up many more subtler nuances than I did the first time I tried this tea. Most notably this occurred with the first and second steeps which developed honey textures and a light whipped cream undertone, developing into something more savory into the next steeps. The “greener” flavors were more noticeable and tasted like fresh vegetables.

Into the fifth steep, a very faint, but intriguing, spicy note climbed up. It had the flavor of parsley and the texture of ground black pepper. Also in this steep, further heavy tastes became apparent, pulling the flavor profile together and giving the liquor a fuller body and thicker mouthfeel with the addition of a stone flavor and increased vegetal taste. Honey notes reached a minimum here, and rose again throughout consecutive steeps. After this point, the tea reached a balanced point in which jasmine flavors decreased to midtones, vegetal, savory, and fresh green flavors became most prominent, and stone flavors settled into undertones. These remained fairly constant and faded out together while jasmine notes slowly slipped away.

The leaves smell extremely potent to me especially during the first few steeps. In later steeps, this settles some and I am able to detect sweeter notes, and some stone aromas. The aroma of the liquor is syrupy, sometimes medicine like, although it is very floral with notes of fresh hay.

Conclusions: I’m a stickler with jasmine. However, going with my new method definitely changed my opinion of this tea and made it a great deal more palatable for me. The actual silver needle white tea has some very intriguing complexities to it, but they seem to be masked by the jasmine flavoring when using the suggested methods.

Steepster! It’s been far too long! I seem to have come across a great deal of bad luck recently. First my favorite glass kettle broke, then a stomach virus, then some common cold. Needless to say, tea has been a bit out of reach for me recently. :( But I’m back! And with a new Utilitea kettle to boot! I have a lot of catching up to do, and this sample was the first I tried when I well enough to taste “real” tea.

I thank Pekko Teas for this sample, and I must say I’m impressed. This is a tea with an awesome name and a taste to match. The jasmine flavoring is just that: it isn’t overbearing and allows the tea leaves to exert their influence wonderfully. I’m constantly sickened by jasmine “scented” teas that give me a headache and make me feel like I’m drinking perfume. This certainly isn’t one of those.

I use about 18-20 pearls in a 100mL gaiwan with very short steeps at ~175 degrees F. (5", 5", 4", 5", 5", 6", 8", 10", 14", 22", ~35") —> That’s usually the pattern I use, sometimes performing a bit longer steep for the first one to allow the leaves to unroll further.

The liquor has a medium body and a smooth and buttery mouthfeel. Prominent tastes include vegetal, steamed greens (a rotation of asparagus, green beans, and spinach throughout steeps), and honey in addition to a humble jasmine tone. In further steeps, a parsley spiciness and cool minty effect come into play. Only the fifth steep has ever been bitter to me, and it’s hardly noticeable. Throughout the ten steeps I can usually get out of these pearls, the flavor never reaches that astringent and earthy taste that I’ve noticed some jasmine greens revert to midsteep. Instead, an deep earthiness climbs out of the aromas. But with the sweet, waxy floral scents, the lid of my gaiwan smelled like planting flowers after removing them fresh from the pot. Smells of sweet, moist earth and intense florals.

The aroma of the wet leaves is top notch. It has that brilliant mixture of deep vegetal greens, sweet honey, and penetrating florals. It’s a particular scent that is essential for jasmine teas to have for me to love it. The leaves themselves are somewhat questionable to me, however. They appear a bit faded and drab, like the color was leeched out of them. The are, however, very clean: very few particles and broken leaves or stems.

Overall, a tea that is quickly becoming a favorite of mine!

This is another sample (Thanks Verdant Tea!) I drank long ago. It was definitely a fantastic experience. I really love the leaves of this one. The aroma is simple and delectable, with scents of dark chocolate and honey. The small, twisted leaves shining with this midnight-blue sheen when in the light is eye candy. When wet, they gave off an aroma that was literally chocolate. Not even “like” chocolate. This was a milk chocolate with almonds Hershey’s bar ground up and placed in my gaiwan. Mmmmm! At this point the artful twisting of the leaves is very apparent. The twists were so fine that the leaves looked like pieces of yarn. I’m amazed by the skill and care of the He family farmers.

The resulting liquor smelled like pure tea and cocoa, and a bit like a high roast dan cong. So far, sooo good! The appearance was a light caramel, butterscotch color, which gradually turned darker with increased tones of amber as the steeping progressed. My first sip tasted a bit metallic, but it was soon forgotten with the flood of heavenly flavors. It was like drinking thick and creamy hot cocoa with milk and a chocolate syrup drizzle, with a few marshmallows plopped in for good measure. Underneath, tones of pure tea and caramel wafted through the nasal cavity after a sip. The next steep was headier, and a bit coarser in the mouthfeel; it matched perfectly with the introduction of oak wood and a gentle sprinkling of spices. It took me back to my Boy Scout days during winter camp, sitting by an oak wood fire drinking hot chocolate or chai after a long, cold day, reveling in the warmth that crept back into my fingers.

The steeps kept coming and coming as the body became further balanced and the mouthfeel increased in spiciness. The liquor became more malty, producing something smooth and creamy. The hot cocoa flavors gradually transformed into something reminding me of crispy chocolate chips, like when you leave chocolate chip cookies in the oven for a bit too long. Very yummy.

Further steeps tasted more or less the same, eventually fading out and losing strength past 10 or so steeps (I kind of lost count and stopped taking notes and just tried submerge myself in the lovely aromas and flavors). I absolutely love the depth and complexity of this tea. It sticks with a theme throughout every steep, doesn’t disappoint, and excites every sense.

I tried this one a while back, but haven’t had any time to log anything recently. As I think back on the time I drank this, I remember being much happier with it than my notes seem to show. But I was listening to Queen songs on repeat while I drank, so I’m sure that had something to do with the discrepancy. :D

Overall this one was pleasant enough, but not incredibly exciting. I used the whole sample in a 100 mL gaiwan, which came out to be about a third of the way full. The dry leaves had a very sweet aroma, with that characteristic “old” smell very prominent. It also had this “seltzer-y” characteristic, like that smell of club soda. The aroma rounded off with undertones of avocado, old books, and this light sour smell. The leaves were very tightly compacted, appearing almost fused.

The wet leaves were powerfully earthy, very musty, with aromas of peat and dusty old books. After steeping, the leaves pretty much looked like mulch. And there were tons of empty stems. And I mean tons.

Transferring over to the liquor, that sour smell from the dry leaves became very powerful after the liquor was drained from the empty cup. Otherwise, the liquor itself smelled very similar to the wet leaves. The liquor appeared as this extremely red-tinged burgundy color that became nearly black during the middle steeps. It made this beautiful red ring of liquor around the lid of the gaiwan while it was steeping.

As for flavor, the first and second steep were probably the most interesting, at five and twenty seconds respectively. The taste was most predominately earthy. It really packed a punch. However, there were delicate traces of avocado and smoky notes, with a nice sweetness that rounded things out. The second steep was more or less the same, but with additions of peat, salt, and must. The mouthfeel was very smooth and mellow, and it left a spicy aftertaste that could be felt in the back of the throat. However, the body was quite flat for both steeps.

The third steep was the same as the second flavor-wise, but the avocado tones disappeared. The texture became a bit unpleasant—oily and slippery. This was probably the last interesting steep. I went for seven steeps, but I was reallyyy dragging it out (the seventh steep lasted 10 minutes) just to see if I could pull anything interesting out in the end. Instead, I received a taste that was like wet cardboard. Bleh. The mouthfeel became a bit intriguing. Tingling sensations grew in strength into the sixth steep, with a cooling sensation in the fourth. Other than that, however, I didn’t get much from this tea, leaving me a bit disappointed.

I’ll apologize ahead of time for this rambling…

Ahhh pu’er, you have redeemed yourself. I drank this sample from Esgreen last week, and I was supremely happy with the little cake. The cake was well-compressed and has a faint smell of old leather. I followed Esgreen’s instructions and plopped the little guy in my 100ml gaiwan. I heated my water up to boiling and poured it over the cake, releasing strong fumes of smoke, sweet damp earth, mushrooms, and peat. I took a bamboo chopstick and began breaking up the cake during a ten second wash. This is where the fun really began with me. I don’t know why, but there’s something so enjoyable in this activity.

I poured out the wash and was astonished by this ruddy, rust-tinted, incredibly dark broth. I was thinking that the “10g” cake in such a small volume of water would produce something pretty potent, so unsure of whether to stick with the 20 second initial steep, I took a sip of the wash. Barely anything. The body was actually smooth and creamy despite the overly weak body. With regained confidence, I steeped out a 20 second brew.

And I thought the wash was dark. This was THICK. Not only was the mouthfeel smooth and incredibly thick, the broth poured out of the gaiwan was highly viscous and murky. I took a tentative sip and was rewarded with a well-rounded flavor. Peat and earth flavors were mirrored with smoke and camphor tastes, while salty, almost caramel-y notes brought up the rear. There was also this faint nuance that with the immense thickness of the broth reminded me somewhat of cream of mushroom soup. After swallowing, I was greeted with a tingling tip of the tongue and a unique minty-cooling sensation on the sides of my lips. Excited, I went on to steep number two.

The peaty/earthy notes climbed and burst forth throughout a sip. The smoky notes became quite potent and caught in the nasal cavity. Camphor notes decreased, while a small amount of bitterness surfaced, along with a subtle metallic feel. At this point, the tea’s physiological effects came into play, and I started zoning out, becoming mesmerized by the tea oils. They were so delicate, the translucent spindles dancing under the rising steam against this unfathomably dark background of the broth. I snapped to, took another sip, and tried detecting an aftertaste…and realized there was barely anything. The flavors of this tea evaporate after a sip, leaving almost nothing lingering besides a very, very faint salted caramel flavor. Ah well.

The next steep resulted in essentially the same brew, but with a reduced bitterness. But wow, my head was feeling so thick and heavy. I was becoming so relaxed from this tea. I poured out another steep. A very prominent sweetness broke off from the earthy flavor as a new woodiness began to climb from the bottom. As I was appreciating this new sweetness, I closed my eyes…and found it difficult to reopen them. Why was I so sleepy? I debated taking a nap and starting back where I left off, but brushed off the idea.

The next steep was spectacular. A new sparkling texture arose, with thick sweetness, a more subdued smokiness, increased camphor and wood flavors, a reduced saltiness, and an addition of this ripe fruit taste. Mmmm such a nice balance.

Steep six. Supposedly the last quality steep according to Esgreen. I was anxious to see how this lovely would fizzle out. I soon realized that “fizzle” was a poor verb here. Perhaps sizzle? I was greeted with a great deal of spice, a decent amount of earthiness, and the aroma and flavors of cedar chips and wood shavings. The mouthfeel became extra tingly with that spicy feel on the sides of the tongue. After this, I thought there had to be more.

I quickly prepared a seventh steep. What resulted was a bright and warm brew. Spicy notes increased along with cedar and oaky goodness. earth and peat notes were subdued and smoke flavors were diminished. I could tell my tea was dying, but with great dignity. The texture was as tingly as ever and still sparkling. On a side note, I was becoming even sleepier, the tea seemed to be sucking my energy as it’s own was reduced.

I thought, let’s go for one more. After a seemingly endless time of five and a half minutes, steep eight was ready. Alas, poor Mini Bing! I knew him, Steepsterites; a fellow of infinite depth, of most excellent flavor… He faded out with notes of cedar, aged leather, and peat.

So to sum up all the above nonsense , I was expecting at least over ten steeps with such a high concentration of leaf, so at first I was a bit disappointed. Yet, I soon realized that that’s just not this shu’s thing. It’s simple, tasty, uncomplicated, and extremely easy to brew, as it is very forgiving. I also loved how the flavor changed from something that brought to mind images of a damp, murky, and earthy marsh to something like a dry and woodsy forest during summer. At least that’s what I got from the tea. Also, with that extreme calm feeling I received, I could definitely picture this being a nice tea for before bed or on lazy Sunday afternoons. At any rate, mini bing cha is pretty neat. :) Cheers!

This tea is certainly a yummy one, and one that I’ll be savoring for as long as I can. The quality is apparent right from the beginning in the dry leaves. They have this elegant appearance, with graceful twists and a variety of shapes. The dark brown-black color gives ode to some hidden power the tea possesses while the brittle nature of the texture play on it’s many subtle flavors. Smelling the leaves results in a heady, rich aroma of roasted hay and that characteristic Wuyi scent.

Add water and the leaves give off an incredibly intense aroma of pine sap, musty notes, and burnt oak logs. The resulting liquor smells of Da Hong Pao, is sweet and thickly floral, with undertones of sandalwood. A sip from the first steep explodes with flavor: ripe bananas, honey, malt, florals, and sometimes I can even detect a touch of cocoa. The mouthfeel is extra thick, leathery smooth, and so very juicy. Into the next couple of steeps, the fruity flavors from the first steep become more prominent and develop into tastes of dark berries and add tartness, complementing the sticky sweetness of the banana and honey flavors nicely. Sandalwood flavors also become apparent, and the liquor’s aroma expands into something that reminds me of a holiday candle. It’s nice, homey, and reminiscent of late autumn afternoons.

Into the fourth and fifth steeps, the banana flavors subside and a creamier mouthfeel develops as woodier flavors take control. Berries become less pronounced and a thick prune-like flavor rounds out the wood. In the next few steeps, the taste becomes spicier, musty, peaty, and earthy, transforming into more of a pu’er with a rounder, thicker body. At this point the aftertaste has become fruity and sticky with undertones of this weak black tea flavor. The steeps round out in the ’teens with sweet, licorice-like flavors and a subdued ripe fruit flavor.

I’m way behind in my reviews…So I’m not letting myself try new samples until I can catch up on the old teas and allow myself to focus on the new ones. And with that, I will catch up with this pu’er. I steeped the whole sample (I think it was around 4.5 grams or so) in my 100ml gaiwan. I got through about 10 or 11 steeps total. There was a great deal of intrigue in this tea, with a very unique flavor profile. From the first four-second steep, I received notes of mushrooms, cedar chips, a certain grape-like tartness, a faint earthiness, and flavors of overripe fruit. The liquor smelled like old, worn-out leather and age. It actually came out kind of frothy, which was interesting to me, as the height I poured it from wasn’t any higher than normal. The mouthfeel contained a slow and drawn-out huigan that began sparkly and tingly and transformed into a bitterness. There was also a lingering metallic feel to it here.

Into the next steep, all the above flavors increased in intensity while notes of camphor and what totally reminded me of Dr. Pepper were added to the mix. The mouthfeel turned into something fierce in this steep. It was stronger, more potent, and it made the tip of my tongue feel like it was on fire or that it was vibrating or something. Very tingly. This mouthfeel remained like this with somewhat less intensity throughout the rest of the steeps.

As far as flavor goes, the rest of the steeps went downhill from here (at least for me). The next steep was incredibly sour-tasting. And instead of showing up and then fading, it actually expanded and became more intense after a sip. It was kind of like biting into an unripe lime, complete with a great deal of astringency. Bleh. I don’t know what happened here, but it only steeped a second longer than the previous steeping. At any rate, it calmed down into the next couple of steeps, but it was still very apparent.

The steeps faded out with a great deal of earthiness, a bit more spice, and some notes of that overripe fruit taste. Overall, I really liked the tastes it put forth, and the mouthfeel was highly stimulating, but the metallic feeling and sour tastes were just too off-putting for me. However, I did really like the leaves of this one. Although there were a TON of stems in my sample, the leaves became quite green when wet and the ones that happened to be whole had some beautiful veins. The leaves’ aroma was also quite nice. Hints of florals, grapes, ripe fruits, and some nostril-tingling tartness.

Thanks to Angel and Teavivre for this sample!

I have mixed feelings about this one. I really love the flavor spectrum, and this is a lovely desert tea: nice and chocolaty, touches of caramel, a good helping of spices, and hints of honey and malt. Butttt, I’ve tried this tea three separate times gong fu style, using different steeping times, amounts of leaves, and temperatures of water. Every time I get an unpleasant sour and salty texture and taste, especially in the first steeps. After about the fourth, this dies down a great deal, but I can still detect it. It’s not terrible enough for me to discard a steep, but it’s noticeable enough to distract from the yumminess this tea possesses. I will say, however, that my first issues were treating it as a traditional black tea and using near-boiling water. The third time I tasted this one, I treated it more like a dark oolong with much better results. Still, this coppery taste lingered. However, I’ve added milk and sugar to some of the later steeps the last time I brewed it and it came out very chai-like and was quite pleasant. I think I’ll switch over to brewing this one Western style now.

Outside of the flavor world, the dry leaves are a delight to smell. The aroma is like sticking your face into a container of Hershey’s cocoa powder, along with hints of hazelnut and spices. The wet leaves gave off scents of mocha, roasted nuts, honey, and coffee grounds. It was very rich and dark, but didn’t knock your head back—it was smooth and unaggressive.

The mouthfeel felt a bit chalky to me during some steeps. However, for the most part it was soft and smooth, especially when the water used is cooler. The aroma of the liquor doesn’t have much to it. It gets caramely some steeps, others it just smells like average black tea.

Flavor-wise, it is really quite similar to Verdant’s Zhu Rong from August of this year as far as flavors go. This one has a bit more chocolate and the addition of caramel, the Zhu Rong had a lot more spices. During mid-steeps of both teas (around 6 and 7) I would have to depend on mouthfeel (Zhu Rong was smoother) and aroma (Zhu Rong’s liquor’s aroma was more pronounced) to differentiate between the two if drunk side-by-side. I may consider this in the future… Actually, looking back at the raw notes I took while drinking both of these, steeps 6 and 7 look nearly identical, while the rest quite different. Hmmm, something to investigate further…

Thanks to ESGREEN for this sample!

I’m still pretty new to pu’er, so the first thing I did was go to ESGREEN’s website for any brewing instructions. When I saw “10-15g in a gaiwan” I thought I was misreading something. So I weighed the sample I received and found it to be 7g. I shrugged and poured the contents into my 100ml gaiwan. I went with the rest of the guidelines on the website and did two washes of three seconds each. The liquor was DARK. I began thinking 7g was too much, but went on with the first steep at four seconds. I bid my time and sniffed the wet leaves first. They were extremely pungent, smelling of old, worn-out leather, dusty books, dirt, and hints of overripe plums and a touch of florals.

I turned back to my foreboding cup of deep, dark, brown-crimson liquor, and sniffed it. Earthy and musky. I took a sip…and sighed in relief. I guess I was expecting something like turpentine since it seemed like there were way too many leaves in the gaiwan. Turns out it was just the right amount. The resulting brew wasn’t potent at all, and it never did become unpalatable if steeped too long in the later steeps. A slightly familiar “sheng” flavor introduced itself. It was earthy and musty. Meh.

But then….whoa… This tiny bit of astringency I first detected hiding somewhere in the tea exploded, making my mouth and throat tingle all over like ants were marching back and forth across my palate. An excellent sensation of huigan. The liquor was silky, smooth, and had this interesting salty/slippery feeling to it. The tea becomes more complex over time, increasing in sweetness, introducing flavors of fruits and florals, and becoming much like a shui xian into the fifth steep. The mouthfeel becomes even more complex, though. All kinds of tingling, sparkling, smooth, salty, and coarse textures assaulted my tongue and throat, appearing and disappearing with reckless abandon. I took this tea into the twenties for steeps, finally rounding out with flavors of peppercorn, camphor, earth and wood, tiny hints of chocolate, and florals and fruit. Towards the end of its life, it left a beefier aftertaste, and the huigan was slower and subtler.

The leaves were quite massive. By the end of my steeping session, the lid of my gaiwan was resting on the leaves, and couldn’t even close completely. There was also a ton of huge loose stems and quite a large ball of broken pieces that had formed at the bottom, resembling mulch. The leaves that were whole, however, had held up nicely through aging and were very strong and thick.

Other things I noticed: around steep five, the liquor became kind of murky, and was actually gritty. At one point I ground my teeth and heard a crunch. Also, through steep four to around six or seven, tea oils were clearly visible resting on the surface of the liquor.

Thanks to Teavivre for this sample!

I’m really liking this one. The dry leaves are so consistent in color, size, and shape, it really leaves a great first impression. They actually remind me a lot of a gunpowder green tea, just lighter in color and a bit larger on average. The leaves smell very clean and fragrant, of dried fruits, flowers, and grasses.

I also get a great deal of complexity from this one. It starts off pretty common, with flavors of florals, grass, and a tiny bit of a milky taste. Yet it develops a great number of nuances including parsley, kelp, grass, cream, and vegetal flavors. The flavor is lingering and “blossoms” over the tongue and through the mouth with each sip. The milk tastes become stronger throughout steeps and with later flavors of vanilla bean, artichoke, asparagus, and green beans, this tea really becomes quite savory. The mouthfeel began like the smooth, creamy, and thick goodness I was expecting, but really faded into the eighth steep, becoming more drying and “woolly.” However, the balance and interesting flavors remained through to the final steep, unlike the other Jin Xuan I have had previously, even becoming earthy with notes of tapioca in the twelfth steep.

The liquor’s aroma has a very subtle aroma, and is difficult to detect in the first steeps. The appearance is a light, but vibrant yellow-green. The wet leaves were also in great shape. It was quite a hodge podge of shapes and sizes, but their were few, if any, loose stems and the coloration was a healthy deep forest green. They were, however, quite thin and fragile, tearing easily. The aroma was of pungent greens, spinach, green beans, and maybe a little kelp. This tea really had that cross between a tieguanyin and a gyokuro that I had noticed in the last Jin Xuan I had.

Overall, a very nice tea that I’ll be drinking slowly.

Woo! Another dan cong fragrance checked off my list! And a very nice one at that. I’ve wanted to log this one so badly, but this semester’s been pretty intense and I wanted to give this one the proper time to say lovely things about it. :)

I’ll start with the dry leaves. The aroma is unbelievably complex, and it seems I detect some fragrances more than others at different times. To date I’ve accumulated these aromas: dehydrated cantaloupe, banana-nut bread, honey, ripened blackberries (this one is consistent), a bit of cucumber juice, and sweet spices. Of the darker oolongs I’ve had, this is by far my favorite dry leaf aroma. The leaves are also extremely long when dry; sometimes it’s a pain trying to get them to fit in my small gaiwan!

After a wash, the wet leaves explode with more olfactory goodness. It’s so very rich and pungent, with this wine-like tartness that envelops the nasal cavity. It’s like elder berries, grape juice, hibiscus, and a bit of orange blossom. It also has these undertones of that strong, pungent, vegetal quality you find in a good tieguanyin.

On to the liquor. The orange zest of the “orange blossom” (huang zhi) fragrance is very prominent here, but there is a ton more going on in the cup. On the first steep (2 secs), if sipped immediately, the body is very light with slightly subdued flavors of orange, and honey. After cooling a bit, though, everything seems to come together and settle into a fuller body with more prominent orange flavors, a slightly tangy citrus taste, and undertones of apple.

Into the second steep (3 secs), tastes of raw sugar come into play and mix with the previous flavors. The third steep (3 secs), though, is really where everything comes together. The sugar, citrus, and orange blossom notes meld together to remind me of candied orange rinds. Then, tons more fly up from the bottom including flavors of hibiscus, which add a floral tartness, more honey, red grapes, and a bit of ginger, which nicely compliments the orange flavors. The aromas from this cup are quite powerful. That explosive tartness originally smelled in the leaves is now given off by the liquor, and upon taking a sip spreads even further. Sweeter elements chase from behind, until they meet in equilibrium and fade slowly into an aftertaste of thick, tingling goodness.

At this point, the mouthfeel becomes sparkling-like, and is quite light on the tongue. This sparkling texture increases in intensity over time, even into steeps in the ‘teens. For sake of space, I’ll outline the rest of my steeps:

Steep 4 (0:07) – Spices, tartness, and the “candied orange rind” flavor decrease slightly, while malty flavors appear, astringency is less strong, and there is an overall sweetness.

Steep 5 (0:12) – Tartness is further subdued, while sweet floral flavors become most prominent. An orange cream-like flavor also comes into play.

Steep 6 (0:16) – The top flavors (orange cream and florals) again come down, while tartness seems to disappear. Undertones of walnuts and berries appear along with a subtle astringency.

Steep 7 (0:22) – Easy come easy go: walnuts and berry flavors dissipate. However, flavors of cranberries come into play and mesh well with the orange-blossom flavors, presenting something reminiscent of cranberry-orange juice. The malty tones of previous steeps also become difficult to detect. Orange blossom flavors rise….

Steep 8 (0:30) – …and then fall. Honey becomes very apparent again, while tones of apples and the rich earth appear as undertones.

Steep 9 (0:40) – At this point, the body becomes less full, as most of the flavors become subtle. Berry flavors are replaced by some florals, a new “mossy” flavor, and fresh orange. A slight spiciness comes back along with a subtle grape-like flavor.

Steep 10 (0:52) – Ginger spices climb up to be matched with a more woody flavor. Mossy flavor has disappeared and this cup is quite astringent.

Steep 11 (1:10) – Tapioca! I’m either crazy, or this tastes exactly like tapioca. The couple times I’ve tried this tea so far, it always tastes like tapioca at around this point, and continues like this into subsequent steeps, so I’m going with I’m not crazy. It’s quite refreshing and seems to pair very nicely with the orange blossom flavor that has returned in full. There is also a general earthiness to this steep. Also, at this point the tea reaches a maximum of the sparkling texture, which is very strong and tingly.

Steep 12 (1:28) – Orange and floral notes fade and are replaced by notes of ripe berries, earthiness and woody flavors become more apparent. A very minute amount of spice is detected and lingers in the back of mouth long after a sip.

Steep 13 (1:50) – Similar to last, but spices are more pronounced and the mouthfeel is extremely tingly.

Steep 14 (~13 minutes…oops) – Actually came out okay, just a little too astringent and some added bitterness. The body was very syrupy. Tapioca flavors are still most prominent, followed by orange blossom, and an earthy, pu’er-like undertone.

Steep 15 (~5 min) – Same as above.

Steep 16 (~5 min) – Same, but with a few more berry notes.

Steep 17 (~8 min) – Same, with added flavors of honey, making the body thicker.

Steep 18 and 19 (~8 min) – Very juicy. Candied orange rinds becomes the most dominant flavor, while earthy tones and and ginger spice add depth. Still a very sparkling texture.

This tea definitely kept me on my toes. It was quite a fun experience and has caused my love for dan congs to grow further. The only issue I had was that it becomes extremely astringent and bitter if steeped for too long. Other than that, I’ve been steeping it throughout the day and it never disappoints.

Holy ambrosia! I now understand how Jason felt after prying the legendary golden fleece from the clutches of King Aeetes. This tea just makes you feel powerful, like you’re caressing some coveted treasure of the gods, attempting to hide it from their jealous eyes. Remind me again why I waited this long to order some of this tea?

While not the most complex tea flavor-wise, it is a magnificent textural tea. Please don’t get me wrong, this tea’s flavor is supremely balanced, and oh-so delicious—a tea with top-notch character. But really where this tea shines is in the mouthfeel. I will reiterate what most others have already claimed: it is silky smooooth. However, it’s not static from what I’ve tasted in my sessions with this tea. I wrote twice as many notes on textural fluctuations than flavors throughout steeps. I’ll outline my notes:

Steep 1-2: airily light, silky, melts away as swallowed
Steep 3: becomes heavier and thicker, like velvet
Steep 4: becomes lighter, but more creamy and soft
Steep 5-6: light and silky again
Steep 7: same as last steep, but with a sparkling texture that tingles the back of the throat
Steep 8: back to creamy
Steep 9: back to silky

As for the flavor details, this dian hong tastes like candy. Especially during the first steeps where the liquor is smooth and melty, I can’t get those Werther’s Original caramel hard candies out of my mind when I’m sipping. These combined with raw cane sugar, a hint of cloves, and malt make up an amazingly well-balanced body in the first few steeps. Going on into the third and fourth steep, the heaviness of the liquor compliments darker cocoa and mocha flavors as spices gently increase and a honeyed sweetness meets them midway. These notes are very well complimented by strong, wafting aromas of chocolate and toffee from the wet leaves and liquor, respectively. Continuing on, caramel flavors increase, accompanied by a new tapioca-like taste, while the intense sugary tastes subside for a steep or two.

At this point, an aftertaste has been well-established, as hints of licorice and toffee play in the back of the throat. Onto the seventh steep! The liquor’s aroma becomes quite strong now, whereas it had been lighter and less pronounced in the beginning. Playing on the sparkling texture, the flavor develops a syrupy sweetness that meshes with increasing malt and tapioca flavors. Steep eight is really where this tea came out for me. It was nicely thick and creamy, developing some complexities of an earthy or mossy quality and some faint astringency, which added nice depth to the taste established by the previous steep. From this point on, this tea mostly reverted back to the flavor profile of the beginning, creating a nice and even bell curve of flavors, if you will.

Other miscellaneous notes:
- The evolution of flavor after a sip is really quite fantastic. It starts off full of flavor, but it keeps gradually expanding, becoming full-bodied before slowly fading away into an aftertaste. I think this has one of the most lingering flavors of any tea I’ve had recently.

- The leaves are really quite amazing. Beautiful colors and sheen when dry, with an interesting springiness to them and a soft texture. When wet, the quality is even more apparent. These are probably the most consistent appearing leaves I’ve seen; every single one is exactly what it should be, nothing extraneous. Oh! And they smell heavenly. Honey, vanilla, a light dusting of spice, dried fruits, and caramel. There was something else that I couldn’t put my finger on, but after just reading the other reviews, I must agree there is an uncanny sweet potato aroma to them.

- After most steeps, a delicate layer of tea oils is visible.

Sorry for the length! Thanks for sticking through the whole thing!

I was absolutely elated to find this as my free sample with my last order. Dan congs are a special favorite of mine. They always seem to have something hiding in them that burst out when you least expect it. And this tea was no exception. The flavor profile began like most other good mi lan xiangs do: a nice honeyed sweetness, middle tones of orchid, some stone-fruit or citrus flavors near the top, and roasted, woody undertones. It had great body, an excellent finish, and a clean, sweet and warm aftertaste.

Into the sixth and seventh steep, spicy notes came through, which was a pleasant surprise. From then on to steep 10, nothing changed much. Still great flavor, great body, good character. But then I came across steep 11. This was some crazy voodoo. I could have sworn someone swapped the leaves in my gaiwan for those of another tea. The flavor profile changed so drastically I could not even believe. It turned completely on its head. Heavier flavors like a new earthiness, a stronger wood flavor, and a bark-like flavor swam to the top, while the more delicate flavors of honey, florals, and stone-fruits either vanished or became undertones. The aftertaste became heartier, more “beefy,” and the mouthfeel which was not very interesting to me until this moment, became thicker and fuller.

To explain this, I’m going to guess that the leaves finally opened fully at this point, which released a ton of flavor previously trapped. The leaves had still been, until around this point in the session, twisted very tightly, still having the appearance of the dry leaf. Whatever the reason, it was a pretty fun sample to try. One thing I did notice about the leaves, though, is that there were a ton of empty stems. I won’t complain about them, because it didn’t seem to affect the tea much, but it was something I don’t find as much in other dan congs.

A most fantastic dan cong, and something new to me. This tea went through a very light roasting without any charcoal roasting. The result is fantastic. No flavor was compromised and instead a lovely, intoxicating floral notes of magnolia exploded through the liquor and the wet leaves. However, while definitely being a huge pro for this tea, it also has the potential to be this tea’s downfall. This dan cong becomes unbelievably astringent. Fast. Oversteep it for a couple seconds and it’s like your eating flowers. And not the ones that you’re supposed to eat. It just becomes really unpalatable. Also, it comes out in the mouthfeel as well. It’s a pretty “chewy” tea and I there is this waxiness throughout every steep (although in varying intensities). Interestingly, though, this transfers over into the aftertaste quite well. It’s pleasantly thick, very floral, with a honey sweetness.

I’m not going to discredit this one just for those flaws, though. Even though it’s pretty high-maintenance, I performed tons of steeps (upwards of 12) and it had some great complexity, even granting some spicy notes into the eighth steep. It has some fantastic flavors, melding fruit and floral notes nicely. It included some notes of kelp and nut, and also the greener spectrum of dan cong flavors. It all reminds me a bit of a dragonwell green mixed with a mi lan xiang dan cong. Besides the unbalance caused by the over-astringency, it became one of my favorite dan cong flavor profiles.

The leaves are also fantastic. They’re massive. Enormous. Probably the largest dried leaves of an oolong that I’ve had. They have great consistency in size, almost no broken pieces, no dust, and very fragrant, with aromas of dried fruits, berries, grasses, and honey. Although of inconsistent coloration dry, when wet, they show an even coloration of amber-brown and army green, nice patterns of bruising, and lovely looking veins glowing from the blades.

As this was from a small sample I received at the Tea Trekker store, I was grateful for the opportunity to try this tea, and it provided an excellent experience, even if it was a bit difficult to get right.

So I think this was the first artisan black tea that I’ve had since becoming interested in tea. I suppose I was sort of sucked into the oolong world and never really came back =). I had never really cared for bagged black tea, usually sticking to chais and other flavored bagged teas before transferring over to loose leaf teas. This being said, I wasn’t quite sure what I was in for, but I was in the mood to broaden the range of teas I was familiar with. So with that, I bought a small amount of Zhu Rong from Verdant on my last order.

As soon as I opened the package I was a fan of Chinese black tea. The dried leaves are so pretty with the deep black-brown contrasting so vividly with the tight twists of golden brown. And the aroma…so aggressive and heady, full of scents of burnt hay, caramel, and tons of spice. Just invigorating. I measured some into my gaiwan and did a quick wash. The infusion was such a beautiful golden amber and gave off such an incredibly powerful aroma of cocoa, a hint of spice, and that “pure” tea scent.

I hurried to get the first steep out and was greeted with a liquor of a deep, russet red tinged with gold. I took a sip of this ambrosia and discovered a very pronounced honeyed sweetness with a chocolate and malt body, and undertones of pure tea flavor and oak wood. Whoa. I moved on to a second steep. The sweetness somewhat subsided, chocolate flavors began to diminish, while pure tea flavors and oak wood rose. Wait, this stuff has complexity, too? The increased woody notes created a very slight bitterness, which I had not even noticed the lack of in the first steep. This was certainly not turning out the way I had anticipated. And I was certainly happy about it.

Into the third steep, the spices appeared. The natural spiciness blended so well with the sweet honey flavors and chocolate. The more bitter notes of cocoa and oak moved into undertones and created a fantastic balance and great character revolving around a full body of the malt and pure tea notes. Into subsequent steeps, the malt/pure tea body remained stable as midtones while the sweet notes and bitter notes flipped back and forth every other steep, making the experience seem like some wonderful dance.

Although the overall flavor is hearty, after a sip it evolves gradually through the mouth without any bursts of intensity. It calmly expands and slowly recedes like a huge, slow wave. The liquor is extremely smooth and somewhat silky. The aftertaste is very clean, malty, with a cocoa flavor and a smidge of fruitiness. My only gripe is that if too cool of water temperature is used, the mouthfeel becomes waxy and a bit unpleasant.

Finally, I’m amazed by the amount of steeps I can get from this tea. The first time I tried it, I reached close to eleven, something this oolong lover was very happy about. However, I was certainly not used to the caffeine levels of black tea…I was buzzing all over the house after that much tea.

First of all, I must rant about the leaves of this tea. They’re of incredible quality. When dry, I received beautiful aromas of sweet vanilla, stone fruits, honeycombs, and orchids which transferred exquisitely into a thick, intensely floral, biscuity sweet smell when wet. I have to say, these are the best-smelling leaves of any tea I’ve had so far. But wait! After steeping and steeping, they unfold to reveal their most fantastic appearance. On the backdrop of their forest green blades tinged with a very slight bruising, is a gorgeous array of spindly, silvery-green veins that spiderweb across the surface—a lovely aspect that I rarely see with such clarity and liveliness in other teas. They feel thick, healthy, and very strong—just as though they were plucked off the bush minutes before they found their way into my gaiwan. I must say, I’m quite impressed.

The infusions these beauties create are just as vibrant: bright, grassy green with golden undertones which produce a surprisingly powerful smell exactly like the wet leaf’s aroma. Everything about this tieguanyin feels alive. Flavors and aromas burst with springtime nuances, while after a sip, the tastes bloom forth and continue to grow, before fading into a great aftertaste of sweet stone fruits and lingering floral notes. The taste pairs wonderfully with the buttery smoothness and silky, creamy textures that build into the fourth steep, where flavor and mouthfeel meld into a thick, honey-like sweetness where the fruity notes reach a climax. Continuing on, the body somewhat lessens and with too short of a steep, becomes a bit weak. However, interesting undertones become apparent from this point and come and go throughout the last steeps: a parsley-like spice, fresh grass, and a mineral/stone flavor.

This tieguanyin provides quite an experience. At any rate, I think I’m starting to get addicted to this tea. I just finished an 11 steep gong fu session, and all I want to do is finish this review and make more…

Ummm, gotta go…

When I first learned about this tea, I was instantly intrigued. I just had to try some. The name and lore behind the tea was so different. So, when I visited Tea Trekker a few weeks ago, this oolong was the first on my list. I’ve had it a few times so far gong fu style, experimenting with the amount of leaves. About 3.5 to 4 grams in a 100ml gaiwan seems to grant the best results.

The leaves give off a scent of fresh hay and minerals, with a very subtle dried fruit aroma when dry, and a fresh and clean organic green scent with hints of flowers and what I finally came to describe as a sweet, mossy smell when wet. First inhaling the dried leaves, I didn’t think I was going to get any floral qualities at all from this tea. I was almost correct. This tea is certainly not like a tieguanyin with its intensely floral qualities, although it does possess some. No, what Mao Xie brings to the cup is something I can only describe as “briney.” Now, I may be getting carried away by the name of “hairy crab,” but I think this is a perfect example of the influence of terroir on taste. Mao Xie is grown on the Fujian Province’s coast throughout a long growing season, which probably has something to do with the slight mineral taste that blends oh so well with the relaxed floral tones and and humble sweetness that sometimes reminds me of saltwater taffy. Whenever I drink this tea, images of the beach and ocean mist always waft through my mind. Upon cooling though, the liquor does assume a thicker, salty/sour taste that can be somewhat unpalatable, but this is probably my only real complaint.

The liquor has a nice golden-green color and a soft, medium body. After a sip, the flavor rolls through the mouth in small, long waves. There isn’t really any “burst” of flavor, but with this tea there doesn’t need to be. It’s strength is that it has depth of flavor (instead of strong flavors) which spreads wide, lingers pleasantly, and fades slowly. Definitely a unique tea.

This tea has a really great taste to it, full of thick, vegetal, kelpy goodness. The first steep is always exploding with robust green flavors and smooth, sweet aromas whether it’s steeped Western or gong fu style. However, if you’re looking for a tea with resonance, and great flavor throughout steeps, it’s certainly not this one. With four grams of leaf in a small gaiwan, and the first two steeps 3 seconds and 6 seconds respectively, the next steeps always seem to be uncannily weak, even when the time is increased significantly. A great deal of the interesting flavors and aromas giving this tea such a great profile at first simply disappear and leave you wondering whether you imagined the flavors previously, leaving the taste simple, watery, and boring. However, if you brew this gyokuro Western style with a shorter first steep, you can get a respectable and tasty second infusion.

The liquor’s flavor is sweet, very kelpy, buttery, and quite vegetal, giving off aromas of steamed veggies and freshly mowed grass. The mouthfeel of this tea is extremely smooth, and oh so thick—almost milk-like. It somewhat reminds me of a Jin Xuan oolong, only with a much deeper “green” flavor and far more astringency. I sometimes catch a subtle whisp of smoky flavors that seem to drift in during the second steep that adds character and further complexity. Yet, while full and rich, the flavor is fleeting. It only lasts for the remainder of the sip before fading quickly and leaving barely a hint of an aftertaste. While incredibly subtle, the aftertaste is almost exactly like the aroma of the dry leaf, which is awesome and intoxicating: herbaceous, very sweet, kelpy, and powerfully “green.”

Finally, I absolutely love the leaves of this tea. They truly are a beautiful shade of deep, vibrant green.

Very nice! I was pleasantly surprised with this Jin Xuan. I had not had a milk oolong such as this one before, but I was familiar with tieguanyin, which this tea resembles. So I was kind of expecting something similar from this tea, but instead I received a much more interesting experience.

The dry leaves were rolled up nice and tight with nice healthy green colorations and a fair bit of attached stem. They smelled of dried fruits and cream with floral and organic undertones, and there was just a tiny hint of a toasty aroma. Very pleasing. While the leaves were quite clean and free of small pieces and loose stems, the colors were inconsistent. They ranged from a dark army green to a bright grassy yellow-green. This was a pretty broad spectrum, so I was a bit nervous at first to the quality.

However, once wet, the leaves expanded tenfold and proved to be very nicely manufactured. Consisting of very large, lightly bruised, and completely whole leaves with large bits of stem connecting up to three or four, they gave off a lovely pear-like, biscuity, and subtly piny scent that calmed the mind. Yet, on closer inspection, I discovered a fair number of the leaves were of extremely poor quality, appearing ragged, broken, and munched on. A huge turnoff for me, but oh well, at least the flavor wasn’t affected.

In essence, I can describe the flavor of this tea as a medium between tieguanyin and gyokuro. It is sweet, floral, and very green with essences of stone-fruits and roasted veggies with a small kick of vegetal astringency. But yet, there is a textural element in this liquor that isn’t present in either of those teas: it is most definitely milky. The mouthfeel is buttery smooth, thick, and lustrous. It also has a biscuit-like aroma and taste, but the latter is more subtle. One thing I really love is the evolution of flavor throughout a sip. The taste rises and expands, becoming more complex and leaving a lingering finish and a refreshing aftertaste. I only have one small gripe: most of the unique flavors of this tea dissipate after the fourth or fifth steep when steeping gong fu. Towards the end of it’s life, it tastes just like the last steeps of a tieguanyin. While this isn’t bad by any means, it’s just not as interesting to me.

I’m highly disappointed with this tea. I’ve steeped this as many ways as I could think of with varying times and temperatures, but this tea never shows anything interesting. In fact, it produces more bad than good in the cup. It tastes like burnt wood, smoke, and roasted nuts, and has no balance to it. The flavor is pretty one-dimensional and only gets less intense throughout subsequent steeps. It’s overly bitter, and this never goes away no matter how many steeps its been through. The liquor’s texture is heavy and leaves a thick aftertaste. It has nearly no sweetness to it, and if it comes out at all, it’s not until at least the seventh steep gong fu style. While the taste can become overly potent even with the shortest steep, the aroma of the wet leaves is even more so. They’re extremely pungent, piney, and smell as though the leaves were roasted and fired for far too long. Finally, I can’t help but notice the careless misinformation in Narien’s description: “ferment.” Unless I’m mistaken, I’m pretty sure they mean “oxidize.”

I used a 100ml gaiwan filled between one third and one half full with dry leaves.

My, my, my. This instantly became a favorite of mine after my first taste. Harboring upwards of 15 high-quality steeps, this tea continues to bring forth surprise after surprise as these large leaves unfurl and release brilliant flavors and aromatics into the cup.

It begins malty, fruity, and quite floral, with tones of peach, orchid, and honey. Body is very smooth, light, and the flavor lingers tenderly on the tip of the tongue and already begins constructing a distinctive and mouthfilling aftertaste.

Into the second steep the body becomes stronger and fuller, with greater peach flavors, and a slight astringency felt on sides of tongue. Resonance is clearly a great attribute in this tea. The liquor’s aroma is strong, flowery, while the wet leaf’s aroma is powerfully pungent, with a very wine-like aroma and undertones of pine, stone-fruits, and citrus.

Then, as the citrus notes begin to climb, the malt flavors subside, making way for new tones of spice and honey. Overall, the flavor becomes much more calm and less robust, yet the complexity remains with tons of subtle nuances. The mouthfeel is smooth and full while the aftertaste remains refreshing and sweet.

At steep four, the liquor’s aroma is very strong and complex, and is one of the more aromatic liquors I have had the pleasure of smelling in a while. The citrus, peach, and honey tones that were tasted seem to have burst out of the liquor itself and fan out through the air. The flavor of this steep has awesome character and rounds together all levels of sweet, bitterness, astringency, floral, and even slight spicy notes in near-perfect harmony.

As more steeps continued to pour out of my gaiwan, the tea I tasted towards the end seemed to be a completely different tea than what I tasted in the beginning. As the leaves opened to their fullest extent, greener flavors started to drift into the liquor and subtle grassy tones were appreciated. In addition, the malt, fruit, and honey flavors so strong at first became subtle and harder to find as nuances of earth, wood, caramel, and roasted nuts come into play, all held together by a body with a more pronounced “tea” flavor and aroma.

The only downside to this tea is that it can become tricky to brew without near-perfect steep times, especially in the first few steeps. The astringency and floral tones can become a little too overpowering. This minor hindrance aside, this dan cong provides a fantastic experience for a reasonable price.

I’m pretty happy with this sencha. It’s very sweet, vegetal with undertones of soy beans and a smooth and mellow liquor with a pleasant astringency and a tad bit of bitterness in the first steep or two. However, the flavor is quite one-dimensional, and doesn’t evolve much between steeps, although it does grant several. Compared with the poetic description on Narien’s site, the flavor of the tea I received did not add up. The aroma is of fresh steamed greens and has a subtle acorn-like scent as well. My largest complaint is the amount of tea dust. After steeping, the liquor appears murky and looks as though it was infused with saw dust, and causes the liquor to have a thick and heavy, and almost milk-like mouthfeel. However, the wet leaves appears very even, are of a bright green coloration, and seem quite healthy. They also have a nice delicate, silky feel to them. It’s a nice tea to sip with a snack for a very cheap price, but if you’re looking for a unique tea experience, I would look elsewhere.

I was slightly disappointed with this Wuyi from Jing. I received this and other oolongs in a limited-time sampler, and from what it looked like on their website, this was supposed to be the best of the bunch, being the “highest grade” for 2011 and “perfectly proportioned.” However, throughout the multiple times I tried this tea using differing amounts of leaf each time, I never really found anything astounding in it. In fact, the sample itself was very poor quality. I could not believe how dusty this tea was. At the bottom of the bag was at least two teaspoons of tiny, broken pieces resembling a CTC black tea. And given that there was only around 10 grams of leaf in the bag, this was a highly unreasonable amount. However, the whole leaves and halves of leaves that made up the rest of the tea in the sample was of good quality and appeared to be manufactured well, with a pleasant aroma of freshly-cut hay and dried fruit when dry and a pungent, pine-wood and stone fruit aroma when wet.

While the flavor of the tea itself was quite good, it never really evolved. A “pure tea” taste was the most prominent, with a few undertones of woodiness and pine, maybe a little spice. The aroma was of dried fruit and honey-like. The liquor was clear and brisk and grew sweeter with each subsequent steep. Beyond all that, though, not much else was delivered. Throughout 8 steeps gong fu style, the flavor remained essentially the same, with very little evolution. However, the first steeps were very strong and almost unpleasantly bitter, even after a decent preliminary wash in my gaiwan. Thankfully this was only temporary and sweetness overtook nearly all of the bitterness, but from then on, nothing changed significantly. A great deal of what seemed to be missing in taste was made up for by its aftertaste, which was lingering and refreshing.

Overall, a decent light and flavorful sipping tea with medium body, but lacking depth and complexity. To me, it was definitely not as exciting as Jing’s Cassia Wuyi and did not live up to its afore-mentioned praise, but was a pleasant tea nonetheless.