Spoonvonstup

I was going to wait to do this review until this weekend, but when I saw all of the others coming in this morning, I thought- why not? I’ve got my notes; I’ll throw my hat in the ring.

I talk about my notes alot, so I thought with this one it would be worth sharing a scan of them.
http://imgur.com/qwnPc
You’ll notice my extremely terrible handwriting. Usually, it’s not that bad! (see the sample at the top of the image) But when you’re sitting up late with friends in a marathon drinking session, and your pen is of a certain style… handwriting goes out the window. Aren’t you glad I don’t just post these scribbles? This’ll be a little bit easier to understand (hopefully).

I am really loving this 2nd batch of the Autumn harvest. Notice my first note towards the middle (and I quote):
“Humina humina humina!”

It tastes like the Autumn LS we’ve come to know and love… but taken up another notch or four. How do they do that? However it happens, it’s been thoroughly enjoyed. I’ve done this gong-fy style in my gaiwan (big and tiny), my yixing pots, the big western pot, even combining gong-fu steeps into big mugs. Basically everything but cold-steep (and it’s been too chilly to try that out). I don’t know what my favorite way to do this is. Probably gong-fu, because it’s more fun for me to see flavors changing over time. Tea in a pot is a drink, but drinks are just that… to fill a need or quench my thirst. I can enjoy things so much more if I set out to do that.

So what does this new batch taste like? My first impression was of something called Nyou Beng.. it was an herbal tea my friends made for me in China, and I miss it dearly. It’s a kind of burdock root, but though I’ve tried to make it from Burdock here in the states, it’s just not the same. Basically, Nyou Beng tastes kind of like liquid graham crackers, plus a lot of other delicious things. Warm and caramelly, and perfect for drinking under a blanket or in front of a fire. The taste of this LS Black really reminds me of Nyou Beng.. if NB were a really fine and refined tea. Lip smacking good..

In the tasting where I took notes, we actually had the black tea after trying selects from a delicious Wuyi care package. The similarities between this and the Rou Gui called to me.. cinnamon goodness, but it was more of a smooth smooth sweet base note of cinnamon, rather than the pop and spicy bite of it. Other Steepsters here today have made comparisons to Da Hong Pao, which I can see. The black tea is almost like an oolong sometimes.

As steepings progress, there’s a nice chewy, bark-y quality at the bottom of the flavors that I don’t recall before. It adds a complexity I can’t quite put my finger on.. Usually, woodiness in teas feel very high energy and rambunctious, but this one seems to add to the fine quality. It’s like the little woody child has grown up into a fine young person with composure and knowledge tempered from experience.
As my notes remind me, I get a giant marshmallow-y feeling from this tea. Puts me in mind of s’mores and the North Shore of Lake Superior. Specifically, it really calls to mind those awesome seven layer bars!!
Another dessert this reminds me of? Whipped chocolate mousse with dark chocolate shaved on top. Yum.

My notes from here get less about the taste and more about things the tea reminds me of. For example, later steepings called to mind apples covered in chocolate syrup with whipped cream.. or maybe an almod croissant.. or maybe both, on top of each other, at the same time! Gosh that sounds good- weekend project, maybe? Fat chance- we’re moving into our new place this weekend!

In later late steepings, the taste called to mind a childhood experiment of mine. One time, when a friend was sleeping over, we wanted to make some cool food experiment. We took a hand-full of M&M’s and soaked them in water (stirring until the water was a delicate shade of purple). Then, to be super fancy, we froze the mixture overnight in a tupperware. In the morning, we had the “invention” for breakfast.. we crushed up the block of ice into shavings and ate it out of bowls like sorbet.
Some sort of sweetness in here reminds me not of the chocolates themselves, but of that taste of their candy shells. The taste of the shells that steeped out into the water and turned it such a light and pretty color.

Conclusion? Part of this tea reminds me of frozen, cold-steeped M&M tea! I love that; it’s been many years since I remembered that experiment.. now I want to do it again.

No notes yet.

I really love this shu. It just knows what it’s doing. No heavy nonsense. No murky bitterness. No sickly saccharine. Just balanced and fair and sweet and transluscent.

It’s classy.

I want to write more about this later. This is more a reminder to drink again and take proper notes. The scribbles I do have are useless in helping me describe.

No notes yet.

There’s this certain Diner- restaurant I visit that happens to be connected to a grocery store (for any MN folks- the Minnesota Grill at Byerly’s). Sure, it’s a blue-haired crowd, and it’s always empty, but the food is cheap and really genuinely good.

I’ve gone about six or seven times in the past two seasons, but every time we’ve gone, I’ve arrived cold and in the mood for tea. They’ll bring out a big box full of bagged Republic of Tea teas, and this is always the one I choose.

Steep time is usually about a minute and a half. I am extremely sensitive to bitterness (ie: some salad fixings are too bitter for me to get down, so yes, it’s kind of extremely lame), so I’m always really conservative with this one.
But given my short steep times, it does very well! Earl Greys will always remind me of our trip to Maine, and this one is no different. This is especially true because the bergamot scenting leans more heavily on the blueberry side of things rather than the citrus side of things. I think I generally prefer it this way. Bergamots that have extreme citrus notes are a little bright for me, and combined with the lower quality bases used, just swing me hard into bitterness. The sweet blueberry nature of this makes is a go-to tea when I’m out and about at a restaurant (I never remember to bring my own tea, plus I don’t want to be rude, and I also want to support any place that’s even offering tea).

As for the black tea base of this one, it’s not too bad. Then again, I also never ever let it steep long at all, but given that it’s dust in a bag, I have to applaud Republic of Tea for putting together a blend that’s balanced and so darn cheap. Wherever their dustings/fannings come from, good for them. Of course, I’d prefer loose, but you can’t always have that. So pretty good job guys.

The weaknesses in the tea come out when the mug cools or when you’ve been sipping for a good long time (over a meal, perhaps). As you get to the bottom of the cup, there’s a bit of sticky dryness the prickles in the back of the throat. It’s not intense, but it can build, so this is one I’d probably prefer to drink quickly as a beverage to quench my thirst and warm me up rather than curl up with while reading, etc, over a long period. Also, as it sits, the bergamot scenting edges towards a lemony-pine-sol sort of thing. Not bad enough to stop drinking, but definitely enough to get me to just pay the check and leave our booth- not going to sit and savor.

So, in a pinch, this is a great one to have on hand. Perfectly drinkable blueberry-bergamot flavor, especially if steeped for a short time and consumed quickly. I’m always glad to see it available as an option, because hey! It’s an option! For tea! At a restaurant in America! Woah!!
No, I wouldn’t stock this at home or probably recommend it for my office because you can do better, but that’s not always what tea is for. It’s a good baseline I’m pleased to see being established. Anything lower quality than this has just no excuse. Yes- I’m looking at you, Bigelow Earl Grey tea. Last time I had you on a shoot, I steeped you for a minute, and you were still unkind to me. But it was either that or coffee, and you I just can’t do that.

Most folks who’ll be reviewing this tea will probably do so from the perspective of evaluating Lao Shan tea as a whole. I love Lao Shan greens, and I’ve had so many different kinds, qualities, and seasons, so this one is more focused on what makes this Autumn picking unique from the others, appreciated for its own strengths.

The dry smell from the bag is undeniably of cocoa.. of cocao nibs in particular. That’s somethig I find to be consistant across all Lao Shan teas in recent memory. I wonder why I never noticed that in Qingdao? Probably because I was living there, so I never took the time to stick my face in the bags and smell and appreciate. Also- no chocolate in Qingdao[ :*-( ], so maybe I lost my context. Why chocolate? Probably has something to do with that distinctive beany Lao Shan taste.

Consulting my notes, I see that the steeped leaves have a “delicious smell.” Hmm, usually I write more, but what can you say to that? Must have kept me from writing anything else.

The taste is crisp, lively, and subtle. It is certainly sweet, and there is something in the flavor that is making it positively addictive. Maybe it is some light savory and salt acting as a gentle support- sweet cream butter. There is Lao Shan bean, but it is a quiet force playing nicely in the background, walking on light tip toe so as not to disturb the calm coziness of the scene. Reminds me in a way of a quiet parent who picks you up to takes you to bed after you’ve fallen asleep on the living room floor. You remember them, you know it happened (counted on it, in fact), but there was no disruption to your dreaming.
Something in the taste also reminds me of Japanese green teas that have been dusted with matcha. I have a feeling that this would appeal more to the sensibilities of a lover of Japanese greens, even though grassy astringency is not actually rearing it’s head… grassiness is there more as a scent infusing the whole brew with a smooth, full mouth-feeling. It is a perfect, airy feeling of grass that is also solidly earthbound, mixed together with cozy cream.

More than anything with this picking, I am swept off to a place.

It’s a misty seashore, early in the morning. The air is cool and wet and smells of autumn, but there is also an intense warmth and coziness. You are standing in your robe with slippers on, in your fuzziest robe and blanket, watching the scene from warm within your woody cabin. A solitary retreat on the North Shore (except in this fantasy, the heat is on perfectly!). A feeling of subtle quiet, thoughtfulness… I’ve drawn a little heart here in the corner of my notes.
Or it is evening on that same sea/lake-shore after a long, full day. There is a crackling fire, and there are waves in the background. The ocean and water is so strong in this one, but it is that feeling of place.. of waves against rock.. not of brine.

Looking back on the description of this tea’s taste, I’m surprsed I can love it so well. Usually, I want my Lao Shan teas to taste like Lao Shan! The bean, the butter, the soil. This one is so much more subtle.. so much more of the autumn.. but the result is so lovely. The place that this tea takes me to is so strong. It feels like one of those original places of my own self.

- -(Tasting notes over: mini-proclamation begins)— —
Hurray for all of these autumn pickings! Who knew that tea could be so giving? Those who kowtow blindly at the Altar of Spring to the exclusion of all other tastes need to stop obsessing over questions of SUPERIOR GRADE this and TRADITIONAL SOURCES PROCLAIM that. Just quiet down for a moment and use your own tongue to appreciate all that tea is trying to offer you. Discover your own preferences, but not before you open yourself to new possibilities and taste with your own self.

Listen to the tea, and appreciate. It’ll never let you down.

I wrote an unintentionally gigantic review for this tea over at the Tea Review Blog the other day.
http://www.teareviewblog.com/?p=19324
I’ve been waiting to add it to Steepster, though- how to rate something so very different from what I normally drink? But then I realized that really didn’t matter in the slightest. More importantly, I want to share how awesome my experience with this Tulsi / Holy Basil was.

This stuff is delicious! I don’t know if this is a feature of Tulsi in general, or of this Tulsi in particular (a blend of Rama, Vana, and Krishna tulsis). Either way, I now feel like Tulsi is something everyone should have in their cupboards if they ever like adding things in with their tea. I haven’t been able to think of a tea with which this wouldn’t be lovely: black (Indian and Chinese, especially a Yunnan), greens, white, chai’s. shu pu’er, wuyi and roasted oolongs.. it’s like salt or cinnamon or honey- good with everything.

The only danger here is being tempted to really add it to everything you’re drinking. That’s great if you’re in a sick doldrums, but I certainly felt like I was slipping towards Tulsi over-load, at least in my at home blending. Who wants all of their teas to taste the same?

All of that said, I think this is a great thing to try on its own. For me, it doesn’t change at all over its many steepings, which means it’s a great flavor.. but it’s just a flavor. A beverage (yummy!) and not a drinking experience. Others will find this a huge plus for reliability, but that’s not really why I drink tea.

And what is that flavor? I really get into that on my other review, but here’s the skinny:
Aroma…. Spicy (like allspice or ground cardamom) with hefty doses of citrus. Complex, with a woody impression, like a chest that’s been storing orange rinds and baking spices..
Taste….. Strong citrus notes of orange, orange rind and lemon peel. Sparkling mint or spearmint. The citrus is mixed with melon (cantaloupe or honeydew) – mellow. Licorice and fennel. Cinnamon, peppercorns, allspice and clove.
There is also a cedar note that grows stronger in the middle of my tongue. When mixed with the citrus notes, there will be some who find this unappealing. The impression is not strong and moves away quickly for the other flavors.

Aftertaste…… Sweet aftertaste that coats my mouth. Bright citrus notes.. I feel cleansed and uplifted and settled. A minute or so after drinking, there is light feeling of vibration in my mouth, priming me for more drinking like an oolong. No dryness or any sense of bitterness.

The overall flavor is complete and unified. This Tulsi by itself is more interesting, commanding and balanced than many spa blends I’ve come across. It’s like a perfect blend, all in one leaf!

Tulsi- the oolong of herbals. If you haven’t tried it yet, I recommend it.

No notes yet.

This is a really intriguing tea to me.

Most white teas are either straight or flavored/sceneted versions of Silver Needle (Yin Zhen) or White Peony (Mu Dan). They are sweet and spicy, with some citrus notes coming out in a Bai Mu Dan. Other than that, I find the profiles to all be very similar, with only varying degrees of strength, quality, or staying power. As a result, I’m just not that into white teas. I love things that are complex and unexpected, and I love my teas to change and take me on a journey over multiple steepings. That’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but we’re talking about what’s in my cup here.

And then Verdant brought in this Songyang white. I’ve never heard of Songyang before. I’d also say “not even while I was living in China,” but that doesn’t say very much considering the folks in Qingdao didn’t care about white tea at all. The only other place I’ve even seen a Songyang white is at Adagio (Songyang Serenade Tea). They describe Songyang as " light in color, with a tender aroma and a sweet, refreshing taste. If you enjoy the subtle taste of white tea, we recommend you give Song Yang a try." To me, this description says, "this is an extremely light tasting tea. we don’t know what it tastes like and the flavor is obviously not interesting to us, so we’re just going to says it’s generically “sweet” and “refreshing. Even though it’s bland, we’re sure you’ll drink it because it’s white tea so it obviously has ‘health benefits.’” The description goes on more about how hard and expensive this is to process rather than taste.

I haven’t tried Adagio’s version of Songyang (it’s no longer on their website), but I can’t imagine anyone calling this version from Verdant tasteless or just generically “sweet” and “refreshing.” This tea is so different from any other white tea I’ve ever encountered, it’s something I’d recommend to others just to broaden your mind a bit.

The dry leaves are as pictured.. long tongues or little green, complete leaves that look like shards. The dry smell has hints of sparkling spive with some dry sweetgrass notes. There is a bright crisp note that really reminds me of a snappy Darjeeling (disclaimer, I rarely ever drink Darjeeling.. this just fits with my impressions of them so far.) Once steeped, the leaves are incredibly green! It’s a reminder that words like “green,” “white,” and “oolong” refer to how a tea is processed, not the color of the leaves. The smell of the steeped leaves is of steamed, fresh greens- brussel sprouts or baby asparagus- but still with a nice, light sweet and spiced blanket over the top. We spent quite awhile just sticking our noses in the steeped leaves, trying to figure out just what the intriguing aroma reminded us of..

The taste, as I mentioned above, must really be tasted to be believed! It’s so green and snappy in taste, like an uncooked sweet pea pod.. or like creamy, thick steamed edamame with some butter (at the same time, without being savory). The words that keep popping up all over my notes page are crisp, snappy, and clean. Later on, the consistancy remined me somehow of tea ice cream, and again that bright Darjeeling comparison.

What this tea makes me think of the most, however, is eating leaves. When I was younger, I would (stupidly, I know!) wander around the neighborhood, picking leaves off of the neighborss plants and eating them. I lived in Indonesia at the time; my mother would have a heart attack if she knew. Point being, those leaves all tasted so fresh and alive.. like there were crystals of bright green life buzzing around in them. This is what the tea liqour tastes like. It really makes me imagine that this is what true, virgin tea tastes like. The Priomordeal Tea- tea of the Garden of Eden… Tea. This must be what Emporer Shen Nong tasted when those tea leaves blew serendipitously into his little couldron of boiling water, the tea that cured him of his deadly poisonous ill.

That virgin, untouched, unprocessed taste is what intrigues me so and draws me to this tea, over and over, to try. It’s so crazy, so weirdly appealing, and for me is very true to what white tea processing is.

I tried this later with another friend with even shorter steepings (steeped in two glass pitchers), and suddenly some expected white tea flavors started popping up along with my TEA taste. Without warning, there was clove, sparkling sweet spice of pastries, or even of an almod croissant. Such a surprising tea. I will keep playing with the steeping times and methods to figure out just what causes one flavor to come out over another, and which method I prefer for what mood and setting.

If you’ve tried all the white teas, you haven’t tried anything like this yet. Give it a try- it is unlike anything else. A true taste of untouched tea.. crazy fun. I am having a good time figuring this out.

PS: Yes, this is one of Verdant’s few teas where steep time, etc is actually important (the other being Dan Cong and maybe Farmer’s Coop). Basically everything else is very forget/work-proof.. I take the tea, I put it in a cup, I add water, and I can just drink all day.
You could probably do this with any other white tea- Bai Mu Dan and Bai Hao Yin Zhen shoudl never get bitter, no matter how hard you try. But this is a very different white tea. Western style, I’d say two minutes or less. In fact, whether you’re doing it in a small glass pitcher (like I do so I can see that dancing leaves) or in a bigger pot, I’d recommend going by the smell of the tea the first few times. Just like green vegetables are done when they look done and most delicious, so too will this tea be done when it smells just right.
In a glass pitcher, I added the tea leaves (enough to cover the bottom, plus a tiny bit more), and then poured my boiling water onto the side of the glass until the water covered the leaves. Poured until the glass was 2/3rds-ish full. Let it steep for 15 or 20 seconds the first time.. basically, I swished the leaves around once, smelled them, swished again, smelled- and then poured off.
So if this tea seems bitter or overly sharp, I’d say back off on the steep time. These leaves have had the utter minimum in processing, so they are very unprotected from the hot water we pour on them to wake them up. Be gentle, and they should reward you with the fun flavors described above.

Oh, the things this tea does to your mouth!! It’s scandalous.

I’ll admit, I really loved Verdant’s spring harvest from 2011, and I was nervous that nothing would be able to compare. Luckily, my fears were totally and completely unnecessary. I am very excited for folks to try this TGY (especially if they tried the Spring), because 1) it’s awesome and everyone needs to try it and 2) it can teach so much about TGY’s in general.

When judging a TGY, there are three general things I look at: flavor, texture (mouth feel), and aftertaste. Flavor is pretty clear- you look for something with levels of complexity beyond a general sweet and floral taste. You can actually find several green oolongs outside of China that have very interesting, lovely, complex flavors- but they stop at just that.
This TGY is full of delicious flavor. Both of Verdant’s TGY’s are excellent and extreme examples of classic Spring flavor and classic autumn flavor. They typify the flavor profiles. Basically, a Spring Iron Goddess of Mercy tastes more like spring.. very floral, creamy, with a sweetness like white or rock sugar. Autumn Iron Goddess of Mercy is more robust.. usually very buttery, with hints of nuttiness and.. well- I can really only describe it as an “autumnal” flavor. This TGY has the autumn profile in spades (more on that in a bit).

The elements that really put a green oolong (or really any kind of tea) into a higher class are texture/mouth feel and aftertaste. Textures can include creaminess or astringency/dryness.. sometimes, you can get a ringing or vibrating texture (like Verdant’s Big Red Robe). Other times, the texture is more like the feeling of linen in sunshine or paper (all Yunnan teas tend have this for me). This TGY does something really really awesome. My whole mouth starts tingling and pulsing… each sip I take seems to prime and prepare my mouth for the next- the texture feels like my old tongue is being stripped away to reveal a fresh, new tongue that positively aches for more and more of the brew. It’s fantastic; you just have to experience it for yourself. For this reason, this is definitely a tea to try in a dedicated way, without other strong (food) flavors muddying or taking over.

And then.. there’s aftertaste. This is the real final test for TGY’s with me. Sometimes, the things that separate good green oolongs from GREAT ones seem like small things on the surface, but once you’ve tasted and recognized those things, you’ll never be able to drink oolongs and judge their quality in the same way again. The main culprit here (besides bitterness of course) that bogs down other teas is.. lemon. If there’s lemon in the aftertaste of the tea, it’s a sign of lower quality. (Now, this is not to say the oolong can’t be a thoroughly enjoyable brew.. it will just never reach the extreme heights that green oolongs can be for me; also, if you don’t brew TGY gong-fu style over many small steepings, this lemon taste will probably not make an appearance). It’s no fatal, unforgivable flaw- it’s just a weakness I’ve noticed over the years. Here’s another place to watch for lemon-y-ness: try letting the leaves rest for an hour or so, and then come back to them. If it’s a lower quality TGY, you will notice a strong lemon flavor.
This TGY has note a trace of lemon. Instead, it’s got other really exciting things: Kaffir lime, for one (like it’s Spring cousin before it).. also the creamy sweetness of perfectly roasted marshmallows! If you steep this tea out even half-way, you will notice the aftertaste lingering literally all day in your mouth. It was so strong and delicious the other day, it was almost unbearable- I didn’t want to go another moment without more amazing tea! I ended up brewing the Jing shan green from Verdant.. mmm mmm MMm, that’s a winning combo.

All of this rambling, and I haven’t even gotten to the main flavors of this tea! How I go on sometimes..

Upon first brewing the leaves, I put my nose up to the gaiwan to inhale the steam.. My technical notes for the aroma were “[I want to] stay in thissmell forever..” I am so looking forward to brewing this tea up when the snow is really coming down here in Minnesota. Then I won’t need to go outside and drive over to the St. Paul Como Conservatory and sit in the orchid and tropical flower rooms.. I can just have the experience right at home in my gaiwan.
The smell of the first brewed liquid reminded me of extremely sweet candy and grapes or grape skins. The flavors.. so good, so autumny. Initial steepings yielded leafy spinach and greens married beautifully to something peppery and spicy and buttery. Something also reminded me of the Song Yang White we’d tried earlier in the evening. The next steepings were very fruity (pit fruits) with saffron, with just a bit of Yabao sparkle. Even still, that great “green” taste was still right in the heart of the flavor. My scribbles go on and on. There was a texture that made me imagine water and stones from inside a clean, magical wishing well. There was a flavor that felt bronzed, just like the great red color that burnishes the bruised edges of green TGY. As others have already noted, there was peach- lots of peach! Particularly the flavor of peach skin and the flavor you get from the aftertaste of eating a juicy ripe peach. Orange flavors and grapes, and of course flowers!

Enough of my ramblings. I clearly really enjoyed this tea. No messing around with “99” scores and whatnot, what’s the point?

Go out and try this tea. If you give it just a little bit of time and attention, you’ll have an amazing time. This is especially true if you can round up some friends to try this with you- conversation helps immensely (as does seeing everyone’s goofy, conspiratorial grins).
Corollary conclusion: Autumn and Spring TGY’s a very different creatures, each with their own special aspects to be enjoyed. I hope that folks can get as excited about the new harvests of this tea as they do about Spring Japanese green xin cha. There’s so much to be excited for with each season. Plus, I’m tired of teahouses across America just offering one TGY that stays the same throughout the year. It’s like they’re saying TGY has only one flavor! It just doesn’t make any sense to squeeze all that TGY can be down into one, simplified experience (usually a more boring spring).
What do you all think about that?

Steeped this gong-fu style in a gaiwan, as usual.

The smell of this dry tea from David’s big bags is great- like sticking my nose into a bag of dark dark chocolate chips mixed with dried cranberries or pit fruits. The wet smell continues on the same them: a dark chocolate bar with currants or raspberries or tart hibiscus. In fact, the smell and the first tastes really reminds me of this delicious bar of chocolate from Rogue Chocolatier (try them! try them! try them!) called the Hispaniola: http://www.roguechocolatier.com/products-page/

Apart from the chocolate, this new picking just strikes me as particularly autumny. It seems leafy (fallen leaves), with lots of toasted grains. Notes of buckwheat and, of course, honey. Some may disagree with me, but I think this one is even more malty than the last spring picking (but maybe I was just really in the mood for that taste, and so I found it in abundance).
There is also the taste of brown sugar that, in a way, reminds me of aged Gouda. You know how aged gouda has these really awesome crystalline structures of salt that burst open as your eating a piece? This has that same feeling, but with brown sugar crystal-nuggets instead of salt.

As we steeped this out, I was reminded a bit of the jingling/ringing mouth-texture of Verdant’s big red robe, but this is accompanied by the brothy, honey full feeling. Later flavors remind me of honey nut cheerios, but with more honey. I like Geoffrey’s notes of creme brulee in this one; I taste that, too.. but a creme brulee that’s more complex than most, with cinnamon sweetness and carrots and raisins and cream. Final flavors are those of perfectly toasted marshmallows!

If I’m going to drink a black tea, it’s going to be Dien Hong, or it’s going to be this one. This tea gives me absolutely everything I want out of black tea. Yes, I’ll keep trying Indian blacks and I’m not going to turn down any opportunities to try other Chinese blacks. But here’s the thing: I really cannot stand bitterness at all. There have been times I couldn’t make it through house salads because the greens they used were just too bitter for me! So I have a feeling that when I drink Indian blacks, I’m going to say to myself.. HmmmmMm.. this would be really good if it just weren’t so bitter…Now where’s my LaoShan black? And recently when I’ve had Chinese black teas, their flavors seem to fall very clearly into the Dien Hong camp or the LSBlack camp, without offering something very distinctive all their own that helps me understand what makes that tea unique. When I find another Chinese black that really grabs me and shows me why someone can dedicate themselves to that tea, then you will be sure to see a happy review from me. Until then, I’m going to enjoy hunkering down for the winter with this Autumn Lao Shan black.

It’s so good. I am so very happy to have the opportunity to try this tea. Imagine: last year, no one outside of China had ever tried this village’s black tea. How lucky I am to find it in my cup now!

Oh, wow- this jasmine!!

I am really excited for other people to try this; prepare for your socks to get knocked off.

Now, I’m normally not one for jasmines- period. I find them often bitter with an unpleasant metallic base, or the jasmine scent is positively choking in its powdery perfume. Sure, you can find one that tastes nice like candy and floral sweetness, but I’ve never really been convinced of why the flavor is necessary. Why would someone think of scenting tea with jasmine? Well.. now I know.

First, the dry leaves of this tea are just beautiful. Gorgeous yunnan white buds with some flowers.. the whole thing reminds me of lovely Victorian lace. The smell of the dry leaves almost bowls me over with how mouthwatering it is. I smell jellies, oranges, strawberries, peaches.. thick candies and creams.
Once I steep it up.. woah, Nelly! This is going to be fantastic!! (my technical note here was: “YUM!!”) It’s thick and warm and floral like being in a flower conservatory in the middle of our Minnesota winter, with a suprising undercurrent of pine.

The taste begs multiple steepings. I think we did at least ten or so in the gaiwan? Usually, I’m never moved to steep jasmine more than three times. You drink it, and say to yourself: “Yep, that’s jasmine, alright,” and then you’re done. This one- you just want to bask in it.

The taste is lovely and thick in texture with a bit of warm spice.. very much in keeping with the budset base. There are notes of pine along with fruit like peaches, candied lime, or that pink watermelon flavor you find in jollyranchers. There is no perfume choking the throat or drying the nose as I drink. The texture through later steepings reminds me of gelato (vanilla.. or very very light, delicate strawberry+cream), with an intriguing aftertaste of blueberries. The taste of plumerias on Hawaii…

The fantastic thing about this jasmine is how calm and perfectly together everything melds. I drink it, and it really reminds me of Verdant’s Alchemy blends. The jasmine is there to accent and show off how delicious the white tea base is! The jasmine scenting fills in and picks up exactly where the white tea leaves off, and you’re left (shifty-eyed) wondering.. is this really just the most fantastic white tea ever?!? Brilliant! Just what scenting should be.

An ambrosial white tea, decadent but at the same time thoroughly cleansing. It’s a tea I want to have as soon as I wake up, to start the day off right. A spa in my mouth.

Now I understand why you’d want to scent tea with jasmine, and why I want to drink it. Thank you!!!

Well, I’m giving in to myself and just giving this tea 100. I’ve had it at 99 for so long, but I thought.. what is holding me back? Nothing at all- just some feeling of politeness; that it would be rude to actually give something 100 because that implies..blah blah blah.

Well, enough of that phooey. I love this tea, and I’m not afraid to admit it anymore. This is probably my favorite tea to drink; I am always in the mood for it. And because it’s a spring picking, it will soon be just a lovely memory.

In honor of you, Spring 2011 Tieguanyin, here is your perfect score.

Much love!!!!!!!

This was such a yummy surprise when we received this as a sample. It’s a green tea picked in the summer time, and usually all that tea is good for is making tea oil products! Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating, but still- you almost never find a Chinese green tea that will admit to being a summer tea, let alone find one that’s drinkable and interesting.

This is nothing like that. This is a really really delicious, solid green tea. When I think of this one and how it’s different from other Verdant Laoshan greens, the word buttery comes to mind. I know it was so buttery on my first sips that I actually exclaimed, “Buttery!” In fact, it’s almost the tiniest bit salty, the way great chocolate chip cookie dough batter should be.
It is warm and full, vibrant and verdant, and not bitter or stony to me at all. I steep this in a gaiwan, and it gives for as long as I want to steep it. I’ve enjoyed waking up to this green tea.

In fact, I think this tea is a even closer to my ideal Laoshan green. It’s hearty and beany and super warm, but I don’t think I’d call it robust. That word seems more appropriate for something that leans towards bitterness and astringency, and this one does not at all. It’s smooth and thick, and fills the mouth with one complete taste. It feels more humble, but in a way that’s more powerful. It is not simple, but it knows exactly what it is and will not tease you with games of hide and seek.

For me, this is a green-tea-drinker’s green. It’s what I’m really looking for in green tea, and it is so inexpensive that I can stock up on lots of this to use for playing in fun blending experiments and what have you.

I wish I’d taken better notes on this tea, but I didn’t: I just drank it. I think that’s fine. This is a tea you could think about as much as you want, but you could also just sit and enjoy in a relaxed way. It’s like that girl or boy next door.. you’re best friend. You know someone’s going to fall head over heels for them someday, and you can appreciate that right along side your own experience of them: relaxed, easy going, free of complications that are tangly and unpleasant, full of those quirks that makes them someone you’re happy to spend your free time with.

whoops.. going on a tangent.

whoops.. going on a tangent.In conclusion: a super solid, really yummy tea. I don’t really want to ask anything more of it. My ideal Lao Shan Green. I haven’t had this actually for a week, but now I’m really craving it. Perhaps after dinner..

Yum!! I am almost never in the mood for white tea, but this one is really yummy and full and nice. When I first tried it, I thought it was a Yabao tea, actually. Maybe because this is a silver needle from Yunnan?

If I am going to drink white tea, I am going to be drinking this one. The texture is full and round. A little bit of wood spice (like a rosewood chest of my mother’s), sweet and billowy like a light bit of marshmallow sugar. Also something that reminds me of warm, white, fresh washed linens in the sunlight.

So, I think that Verdant’s Xingyang 1998 pu’er is one of the best pu’ers out there. When I saw that Verdant brought in another, younger pu’er from the same workshop, I was really excited to try it.

The dry leaves look really different (they are very small little buds instead of the giant twisting leaves of the 1998). Smelling them, however, is that same, satisfying musty Xingyang smell. Light, bright and clean, but undeniably old-smelling, like that great library smell.
Once steeped, the leaves start to distinguish themselves from their older cousin. They smell like warm tree pulp or maybe tobacco. They also really remind me of one of the woven bamboo mats we use on our tea tray when it has tea poured over it, or of woven reed shoes and being in a room covered with tatami mats (the description is definitely spot on about that part).
The smell of the liquid is really warm and cozy (more on the brown sugar/caramel end of the spectrum), and reminds me in aroma and color of the Twin Elephants Golden Buds brick.

My notes on the taste of this tea suddenly drop off and are really sketchy. I became distracted and too excited; I was too busy talking to my drinking partner about what I was tasting to remember to pull my pen back out. Here’s what I can reconstruct from nine scribbled words and an arrow:
If the Xingyang 98 reminds me of a lunar landscape, the 2007 has all of those same qualities, but brought back down to Earth. This tea feels like it was made by those same hands, but for real human beings, not just some terrific/terrible other-wordly beings. This shares the same soul, but still has the breath of life in it, not yet distilled to the spiritual essence. If 1998 is the cool glow of twilight and dawn, this is the burning, heady redness of dusk and sunrise.
Sure, there are tastes too (brown sugar/caramel, musty yet perfectly lightweight and airy, bamboo, celery notes and..in later steepings.. that delicious, crystalline sweetness of the back of a postage stamp or new book-binding glue), but that doesn’t really describe my experiences with this tea. This is excellent!! I love how fibrous and alive this feels (there is also a tingling, vibrating texture, if I’m remembering correctly), and I love what a great companion tea this is for the 1998.

It definitely stands on its own, but it’s so much more fun and exciting in context. I am excited to see what this will turn into in ten more years, but it is also perfectly drinkable now. I feel like I’m allowed to have this more often than my other Xingyang, both because of the age and lower price, and because I feel like it’s something that fits in more easily to everyday life. This can transport you, but it feels less dangerous than the 1998 (with that tea, you are practically guaranteed to reveal hidden about yourself; you won’t be able to resist coming closer to those you’re drinking with, or learning something new about yourself). This tea opens that door for me, but I feel like I’m being given a choice. I can walk through of my own free will, or I can linger at the doorway, peeking in, and then turn my head to enjoy the present as a simple, sensory experience.

Alas, I feel I am beginning to make less and less sense, so I will try in vain to sum up. This is a great tea that I am happy to add to my collection. On its own and paired with its older relative, it continues my pu’er and tea flavor education. This will be exciting to watch grow, and a pleasure to enjoy drinking on a more every day basis. I definitely recommend it to folks who’ve been drinking pu’ers for a long time, and for those who are just getting started.

I hope there will be other Xingyang offerings from Verdant in the future. They’re operating at such a high level; they’re going to raise the standards and expectations of what pu’er can be, and that is a good thing.

steeped in a gaiwan over multiple steepings, as always

Another strong new tea offering from Verdant.

Smelling the dry leaves, there are notes of sweet cocoa and cream, and in the background….well? Remember opening a plastic canister of Play-Doh? It sounds weird, but I definitely felt undertones of that distinctive, sweetly addictive smell (you are similarly and illogically drawn to eat this). Once steeped, the leaves and liquid remind me of the chocolate of a baked chocolate chip cookie, or of dark brownies.

My first tastes are actually more textures and sensations that flavors. The texture is like that of a smooth metallic sheet which is vibrating. I am reminded also of a river rushing of dark slabs of granite and slate. And yes, I wrote down that thought before I read that in Verdant’s description. Try it for yourself and you’ll see! How else can you describe it?
The taste is of Big Red Robe, definitely, but with more complexity than I’m used to finding. Vegetal, thick in movement, filling the mouth. Darkly floral, along the same unexpected lines I found in the YGB, and the aftertaste has the same mouth-feel of Verdant’s Tieguanyin. There is also something at the very tail end of a sip that reminds me of LaoShan green’s bean-y notes.
The flavors make me want to eat hibiscus chocolate, and the vibrating texture calls to mind granny smith apples. As the tea continues to steep, my notes include a “purple caramel” aftertaste. I know that sounds odd, but I am not sure how else to describe it. Alternatively, I imagine chewing on the skin of a red grape that has been frozen.

I wish that my notes were a little easier to follow, but after a while, I just stopped writing and enjoyed the tea. As I steeped this tea out over an evening, I found myself only writing down the most interesting and unexpected things that this Big Red Robe brought to mind and that I knew I wouldn’t remember clearly or believe when I went to log this properly.

Very fun tea, very good big red robe oolong. I think this will be a very popular tea (especially for the price), and I look forward to hearing what other people think of it. I look forward to drinking this through the fall and Minnesota’s long winter.Somebody bring me a slice of apple pie and we’ll turn on the Christmas carols early.

Beautiful leaves; thick, delicious smell.

I made this tea up in a gaiwan over many several steepings, and it was excellent; everything I could have hoped a golden needle could be. The very first golden needle I ever tried was ridiculously good and spicy and complex, so it set the bar for me very high. Every other golden needle I’ve tried afterwards has fallen short, except for this one. This was so relaxing and satisfying to drink, because it honored my first memories of Yunnan Golden Buds, and was as delicious as I could ever want! This is doubly excellent, because I only have about an ounce and a half left of that very first YGB, so now I can feel free to drink it at will and just replace it with this. Hoorah!

The first steeping of this tea was quiet and surprising: honey candy. It was as if we’d steeped a piece of honey candy for three minutes, and added some honey to our cups for good measure.
The second steeping is where this tea really opens up and commands your attention. The cinnamon and spices have come right in, and they are a pleasure to discover. In my notes, I wrote down that I felt like I was wrapped in a blanket of spices. It is lightweight, but absolutely strong.

The texture is creamy, and the aftertaste feels like something is evaporating off of the tongue. As I continued to steep, a surprising floral taste establishes itself. The florals are dark, the kind you would taste in dark chocolate, though this doesn’t have any particular cocoa for me. It feels like a guilty pleasure to drink at this point. I imagine someone grinning, checking the room with shifty conspiratorial eyes, and then indulging in the cup, quite delighted to find that no one is going to come and take it away.

Simply my ideal Yunnan Golden Buds.

Tried this again in the gaiwan with more leaves. The floral notes and spiciness are decidedly stronger this way, and the honey is a background supporting flavor. I find this tea changes more over time if I use a normal amount of leaves in my gaiwan, but there are definitely days in the coming fall where I will want to use a little more leaf for a more intense experience.

I have since tried this iced, and it is DARN GOOD. The billowy, full texture is exquisite (I keep wanting to say mellifluous, even though that only applies to sound; however, it is the texture of mellifluous sounds that I am tasting here). Even better- I do not feel guilty making this iced, because it is several dollars cheaper per oz. than the lower quality YGB’s available at my local teahouses.

The dry leaves of this tea look beautiful, and smell delicious. Looking at my notes here (I took notes!), I remember the leaves smelled like lime, basil and sweet grass. Once steeped, you get more of a barley or corn pancake aroma. The tea itself (at least on the first steeping), smells clean, bright and decidedly vegetal.

If you’ve tried Verdant Tea’s other green offerings, you’ll know right off the bat that this is a very different kind of green tea experience. While Lao Shan greens tend to be hearty, beany, warm and robust, this Jing Shan offers the lighter and more delicate side of Chinese greens. This side is just as legitimate, and helps remind me how gentle and powerfully quiet greens can be.

Once steeped, I got three good steepings out of the buddy leaves, and I kept going for five or so (lost count, and didn’t write that down in my notes). Basically, steeped until I was quite satisfied and sated; unlike some lighter greens, this didn’t tempt and inspire me, only to run off at the second steeping and leave me feeling like I’ve been abandoned at the altar.. The taste is sparkling, bright, and almost fruity (I can’t put my finger on what that fruit could be). The sweetness reminds me of steamed buns, and while drinking, I’m reminded of greens dusted with sweet matcha powder. There is a pleasant tangy aftertaste, and as I continue with later steepings, there is the very light taste of sweet asparagus. Underneath is a pleasant mineral-ly base.

All in all, the tea feels like a cleansing sigh of relief. Yum!

I suspect I will always have a preference for the LaoShan-esque green teas, but this is a wonderful and delicious reminder for me to keep trying Chinese greens. I look forward to drinking this in the morning, especially as summer starts to cool down. I am also really looking forward to a drizzley morning, so that I can open the windows and try steeping this “Jing Shan style” (pour water into a glass, then sprinkle in the leaves… drink when they’ve floated to the bottom). When I do, I’ll let you know how that way of steeping is different from my normal pouring-between-two-glass-pitchers.

just finished a tasting of all of Verdant’s newest teas, so expect a lot more notes over the next few days. Hooray for new teas and remembering to take notes!

I was inspired by recent comments on this tea to pull it out from my pu’er box and give it a real rating on Steepster. Yiwu is the Verdant Tea sheng that I always forget that I have. Perhaps I’m distracted by the tempting Artisan Revival, the crazy Xingyang or the Yohoho Farmer’s Coop? When I do finally have it again, it’s like a revelation. Oh yes! I remember you now! Hello again, and thanks for welcoming me back…

The first tastes of this are always difficult for me to describe. Imagine a powdered sugar donut. When it touches your tongue, there is a cooling sensation that brings you back for more. That cooling texture is here in the first sips (though not sugary sweet). Instead, I imagine extremely dark and pure cocoa powder mixed with the dark bark or skin of a woody branch. The branch bark is ground to dust, and leaves this dark, cooling woody texture and taste on the tip of my tongue. (my husband tells me this is camphor; I can never pinpoint that flavor, but that I know academically is there, and so I struggle absurdly with comparisons to cooling-woody-donuts; how can one be so unable to taste one specific flavor?).

In the rest of the opening steepings, this feeling of sweet, dark woodiness spreads and unfolds into something warm and bright. It reminds me of walking along a path in college: piney trees and leafy greens of the Hudson river valley are on one side; the sun is setting over the hill, and everything turns orange and glowing green. The path is covered with wood chips and fallen pine needles, and because the pine needles have turned golden orange, too, it looks as though the light has splintered and covered the ground in a soft carpet of fragrant light. That smell is the woody taste the opens up in this sheng. It is lovely, but also very mysterious to me. It keeps me coming back for more steepings.

The cocoa/wood flavors continue all the way through the steepings. I think this is also that camphor flavor. The taste is also full and sweet, and in the aftertaste, there’s something that reminds me both of a good, ripe melon and of chewing on grape or apple skins. I do not really ever eat cherries (too bitter for me), but I think this may be what some other tasters have referenced.

This tea is also really really juicy in a way that reminds me of good baking apples or the aftertaste of cider. It is a different kind of thickness than the smooth, comforting linen of the Artisan Revival. If I’m not paying attention, the juicy, fruity afters slide into mintiness, too.

This is a complex sheng, that I feel is closer to what long-time drinkers might expect out of this style of pu’er. It fits more with the traditional flavor profile, but it is not at all bitter or drying, and its interesting complexity goes down as many layers as you might care to explore. It tastes young, but in only the most delicious ways. This will be another great sheng to watch grow with interest.

Tried this again tonight, and it was just as delicious as always. ah, I loved this tea.. I tried some Jingshan green just before having the TGY, and it seems like it really primed my palette in an interesting way. Has anyone else experienced this kind of thing?

Hm- funny note here. Yesterday, this tea was the highest rated Oolong on Steepster (91), but now it’s suddenly at 86. What?!? There are 9 written reviews (all high), and 11 ratings. It seems like a shame for people to rate this low when they haven’t even tried it. :( Seriously folks- this is the best oolong I have ever had, I wish everyone could try this. I’d invite everyone over to my little apartment for a big tea-tasting party, and we’d all leave happier than when we started.

Ah well- I guess that’s just the way life goes. For everyone out there considering trying this, I’d recommend reading the reviews instead of just looking at the number.

I had this tea the other night while in the middle of a long flight down to Austin to visit family. As these things always go, my first flight was delayed about two hours, which left about 10 minutes to run to my other gate…. oy yoy. You know how it is.

Anyway, when I was finally on my second, final flight, I decided I would get hot water and make some tea. I had brought several new kinds for my parents to try, but the only one I remembered to put in my purse was a packet of this Tieguanyin.

Well, I was worried that I was going to be wasting the tea. Luckily, not at all! I opened the packet and poured out just a little bit into the styrofoam cup full of hot water from the coffee machine. Usually, I’ll try a green on the plane, and it will just taste smokey and overly-meat like because of the not-really-boiling coffee-tasting water they use. This one though..phew, what a treat! It was delicious and felt decadent and it was absolutely what I needed to calm myself down. I sipped and sipped on it as long as I could, and watched the tightly rolled balls slowly unfurl.

Thanks, Tieguanyin! You tempted me to indulgence, and took me from stressed unhappy and sick to perfectly relaxed and content. I was just sad the flight was so short I couldn’t get a refill on my hot water. I was smacking my lips and enjoying the thick aftertaste for the rest of the flight.

Yum!

Had this one again last night.

After carefully re-reading the tin of this tea, we realized that we’d passed over additional brewing instructions in Chinese. Besides the more traditional method of steeping pu’er (a few seconds per steep, adding a little bit of time each round), the Xingyang packaging also suggest another method.

Boil water, let the water cool to 90 degrees Celsius, then pour water into small (yixing) pot and let steep for one minute. Really?

Well, we had to try it! And boy, what an interesting experience.

First steeping, it was like drinking from an enchanted well. So clean, and very minerally and sweet (like the well was full of the best, most amazing perfect stones). The next few steepings grew in complexity and strength. Instead of the a liqour the color of white wine, the steped liquid ranged from amber to stunning orange- always crystal clear. Where before, I described this tea as lunar (weightless, musty like a library, with a taste of the smell of new book binding or money or paper), it was now more like an eclipse- the moon glowing and growing with power as it overshadows the sun. The taste was always incredibly clean and weightless, but the strength was incredible- not heavy or dirty, but almost vibrating with intensity on the tongue.
My friend said it was as if they could taste every possible positive flavor found in puer’s: clean, thick, plum, walnuts, oatmeal, sticky rice, mist/camphor/cooling, brown sugar, caramel, raisins, apples… whatever taste you wanted to find or focus on- it was all there.

This is definitely an intense, intriguing experience. It makes you and your fellow drinkers giddy to experience such a fine tea in this intense, delicious unbelievable way.

I do not know if I prefer either steeping method, one over the other. They are both amazing ways to experience this incredible tea, and both should be tried. Whichever you end of doing, the strenght and depth of these tea is clearly demonstrated. We steeped in this longer method for about two hours, and when we couldn’t stay up any longer, I’m sure the tea could have kept going for another hour more.

Our teapot was so happy!

Had this one again last night. Still excellent!

We starting drinking it at about 7:30pm. When I went to sleep at 11:30pm, the aftertaste was /still/ strong and delicious. And that was after having had a manog lassi in between!