Interestingly, taking this one on again, I’m enjoying it a lot more. The sharpness of the charcoal roast is still right there, and I have to be very light-handed and circumspect with the first few infusions (several flash infusions to 15 second infusions before getting to more typical minute or two), but then the classic Alishan notes of warm sweetness are still there underneath. I think the extra year of aging helped this one.
310 Tasting Notes
Infused 3 grams of tea including the few crumbs in this sample, in a very small porcelain gaiwain. Flash rinsed x 1, then a 10 second infusion with about 40mL water at 195 degrees: a teasing impression, a little sweet, a little earthy, promising a lot more with longer infusions. It is quite nice through 10 or so infusions—where I am now—earthy, sweet, plummy. Nice stuff.
Editing to add, that this tea has an unusually nice long sweetwater phase, fruity and not just faintly sweet. Very nice pu.
This is a reliably gorgeous oolong: after buying one packet with a few other things, I bought a dozen of them to have a years’ supply of it. It’s a little floral, a lot sweet and warm and rich, and always nice.
I have not been logging repeat drinkings here much, but this is one of the few puerhs I’ve ordered more than once: it is mellow and reliable stuff, something that can handle even the demanding conditions of being tossed into a thermos, hot water added, and drunk over the next several hours—without turning unpleasant, and sometimes finding a sublime sweet spot with a mix of plummy, earthy, and sweet flavors. How many puerhs can you trust to take such abuse and still enjoy?
So today’s order included several more bricks of it—I just don’t want to run out.
First time I’ve tried this tea: it’s a lovely tea, delicate and richly floral. I didn’t weigh the tea first, not really trying for a formal review, or take notes infusion by infusion, but it’s already apparent, about six infusions in, that this is a very friendly and forgiving sort. If it were less pricey, I’d call it a good beginner’s Dan Cong.
Editing to add some morning after impressions—still infusing the same leaves, left in the teapot overnight: spicy notes coming to the fore this morning: cinnamon & cloves along with the floral. Very nice.
I wanted to try one of my favorite teas from a new source, wondering how much better it could be, and just the scent as I open the bag is intoxicating: vegetal, fruity, rich. Oh my.
The leaves are light green and lovely paired buds. I used 3 grams for my 3 ounce/100mL unglazed Petr Novak Shiboridashi.
1st infusion is a 180 degree flash rinse to ‘wake up’ the leaves: very dilute, hints of floral sweetness.
2nd infusion at 150 degrees, 30 seconds, light floral vegetal, still not strong enough, should have made it 60 or 90 seconds. Will do the next one longer.
3rd infusion at 160 degrees, 120 seconds, a little bit overdone, should have been 90 seconds. Still working this one out.
4th infusion at 70 seconds, delicious, but I stopped taking notes. I went out to about 8 infusions and water just off the boil pus several minutes’ infusions, but that last one was just sweetwater.
I think I need to give this one more time up front, and it will be brilliant—although I must doubt that it can truly match the astonishingly fine smell of the dry leaves.
Some photos of the tea on my flickr
http://www.flickr.com/photos/debunix/8060493477/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/debunix/8060494826/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/debunix/8060493948/
Enjoying a first set of infusions with this tea, which has a very lively, fruity aroma even as dry leaves, and a very typical silver needle appearance. I didn’t measure the leaf quantity used, but started with just a little, because I know these teas can be overwhelming if brewed concentrated. The wetted leaf takes up about 1/4 or 1/3 of the gaiwan.
The steeped tea (now on my 6th infusion) lives up to the promise of the leaf scent. Floral, fruity, sweet in the early infusions, a little more tart later one. Delicious stuff. I have taken it from about 30 seconds/150 degrees first infusion through a minute or two/195 degrees by the 6th, gradually increasing time and temperature, but this is such a good natured tea that I could do it casually without fear of bitterness or astringency breaking out.
This is in contrast to some silver needles I bought a while back at my local teashop, which tasted a bit musty from day one, and show a pronounced bitterness if not handled with a very light touch. This is a nicer grade of tea.
I almost forgot to add a very important feature of this tea: it pairs magnificently with small quantities of very intense, fruity dark chocolate, like Scharffenberger’s 70%.
Sweet and caramelicious, as described. Very very smooth and delicious. I’m brewing a little more than a gram of tea in a tiny yixing pot, water about 185 degrees for a start, amazing lovely stuff. This would make an excellent ‘starter’ Dan Cong—hard to imagine it going wrong in any unpleasant way. 3 infusions in, still very lovely. Sweet, caramel, fruity—stewed fruit rather than fresh, perhaps—and just a hint of spice.
Back many infusions later—infusions 30 seconds or more now, water 205 degrees, and still delicious—the spiciness is to the fore more now, and still sweet and rich, but a little thinner. Quite a lovely tea.
Stunning initial sweet fruity scent when put into the preheated Chao Zhou teapot. Unfortunately I forgot to weigh the tea beforehand.
And the tea lives up to the preview aroma: superbly fragrant, sweet, fruity, delicious first infusion at 10 seconds. Very little change yet at the third very brief infusion. Gorgeous stuff.
Up to the 6th or 7th—lost track. Still keeping infusions fairly short, this one will be about 20 seconds. Have to set it aside for now, more later!
Now on to the 12th or so, after the poor leaves had to sit overnight. Some of the wonder was definitely lost in the sitting overnight, but still, this sweetwater phase is pretty sweet—nudging the rating up a bit more. LOVE this one.
If it were any more intensely aromatic and floral it would be too much—it’s right up there, close to the line that divides ‘fantastic!’ from ‘like drinking shampoo, yuck!’, waving at all the jasmines that went too far into undrinkability.
Another excellent session with this tea: it sat in the small sample bag in the bottom of the tea drawer, and I just happened to pick it up this morning. I wasn’t anticipating a tea log note so didn’t weigh it out, but the small porcelain gaiwan is 1/3 to 1/2 full with the leaves long since fully hydrated. I’m at least 12 and likely 15 steeps into it, and this is so lovely, reminding me a lot of the 2009 Lao ban zhang that is my current touchstone for young sheng. It does take a little care, even 8 or 10 steeps out, because I forgot a steep for at least 5 and maybe a few more minutes a few back, and it was…..unpleasantly bitter. But back to shorter (now 30-60 seconds), and it’s light, delicious, with that anise/herbaceous touch that I love. Mmmmm.
Just ponied up to buy a whole beeng.
Still haven’t written a proper tasting note on this one, and I’m halfway through the package. I haven’t done a formal tasting, therefore. This tea has wonderful fruity, spicy, earthy notes, takes well to my relatively dilute but today quite careless brewing—light almost fruity/floral infusions followed by oversteeped ones that need a bit of dilution to bring them back from the brink of too strong, without being actually bitter. I don’t have any other wuyi yanchas handy to compare this one to, but I’ll certainly include it in my next order, and do a more formal tasting at that time.
I didn’t take notes during my first session with this tea—I was too busy doing several other things at the time—but a discussion on another forum about Da Hong Pao came immediately to mind, where someone had said that a good DHP “…should be as crazy as combining hard rock music (intense roasted notes), with gospel (floral finish).” This tea felt just like that—overtones of bittersweet chocolate, earthy/toasty/deep/dark grounding the high fruity/peachy/floral notes. Wonderful stuff, accompanied by many deep happy sighs.
2.2 grams of dark twisted leaves, with little aroma, in a small porcelain gaiwan, with water at 205 degrees for the first set of infusions with about 60-75mL water per infusion.
Dropping the leaf into a preheated gaiwan, some fruity/peachy odors become more noticeable.
Just because I’m a tea-wimp, I started with a 10 second flash infusion just to get a sense of the tea. Even this overly dilute more or less rinse is a little fruity and sweet—peaches and honey. Very nice start.
A more proper 45 second infusion continues the sweet fruitiness, more intense, and very subtle almost grassy undertones without a trace of bitterness.
Another 45 second infusion is similarly sweet, right up front, little different from the previous.
1 minute infusion has a little astringency or spiciness starting to come through as an aftertaste, but the first and middle of each sip/swallow continues to be dominated by sweet and fruity.
1 minute 15 seconds, similar to previous.
90 second infusion, tart, fruity, sweet; spicey/astringent still mostly as aftertaste.
2 minute infusion is rather weak—the leaves appear to be reaching the end. Still sweet, fruity, and the astringency was virtually gone, but the sweetness and fruitiness were less intense.
4 minute infusion (note that the infusion temperature will have dropped quite a bit over 4 minutes in this thin porcelain gaiwan)—definitely the leaves are done. Only faint sweet/fruity/floral traces are left, and the dominant note is astringency/bitterness, although still quite mild.
This is a lovely oolong tea, quite delightful in the early and middle infusions, and brewed at this concentration, it promises improved staying power for multiple infusions if brewed more agressively—the fully hydrated leaves, which remain thin and twisty, occupy only about 25-30% of the volume of the gaiwan. I’ve mostly been brewing similar teas more concentrated, to fill the brewing vessel 1/2-2/3 full or more. At that concentration, this tea compares quite favorably to other ‘commercial’ Dan Cong style oolongs—notable not so much for endless infusions, but for mellow deliciousness that has too often been lacking in similar teas.
Tastes like newly mown spring grass smells: deeply, richly, grassy. A little sweet, a hint of briney, but not umami, gently herbaceous without being astringent or bitter. A delightful surprise. Several infusions in, starting as suggested at 175°F (about 80°C), still very neat and interesting tea.
It is so cool that someone figured out how to use the leftovers to make something as bright and lovely as this.
Tastes like newly mown spring grass smells: deeply, richly, grassy. A little sweet, a hint of briney, but not umami, gently herbaceous without being astringent or bitter. A delightful surprise. Several infusions in, starting as suggested at 175°F (about 80°C), still very neat and interesting tea.
It is so cool that someone figured out how to use the leftovers to make something as bright and lovely as this.
I got a small sample of this puerh with an order from Jing Tea Shop. It came in a tiny bag that kept slipping to the bottom of my puerh box, so it was overlooked, quite literally, for a long time.
I set up a first infusion series this evening without remembering to weigh the small piece of leaves first—d’oh! It was likely between 1 and 2 grams of compressed leaf, set up in a cheap 60mL yixing pot. Water was heated to 205 degrees.
I first flash rinsed, then set up my first infusion and….forgot about it, for several minutes. I did sip that one momentarily, but though it had very promising anise and caramel notes, a strong bitterness on top of that made it undrinkable.
I managed the next half dozen infusions better. I put a splash of cool water into the cup while preparing a flash infusion of the tea, and the little bit of cool water drops the temperature when I add the tea so that I can drink it straight off, without waiting for it to cool. The liquor is anise-caramel-sweet, with a mild earthy undertone, delicious. Gradually I’m increasing the time for each infusion, up to about 45 seconds now, and while I think I’m going to get another half dozen infusions easily, it’s sad to think of how many I missed due to that first mistakenly long infusion—probably a good 6-8 more infusions were lost.
Fortunately, even the small sample should provide 2 or 3 more small sessions like this one.
Today I expanded the range of this versatile tea by brewing a small handful of it overnight in my thermos. It held nicely for a long morning’s drive, not quite as wonderful as it can be hot, but still, tasty stuff.
This one just didn’t work for me. I just taste charcoal when I drink it, whether I brew it very lightly with a light quantity of leaf, or pack the pot with enough leaf to fill it when wetted and expanded. I’ve tried varying temperatures and times, tried steeping several times before I start to drink the infusions, and airing it out for a few weeks in an unused pot without improvement in my drinking experience. I’m a bit puzzled because I’ve had some lovely deep-roasted Taiwanese TGYs and other teas from Norbu before, some requiring quite a light touch with the brewing to find my sweet spot, but I can’t find a sweet spot with this one. Bummer.
Supreme Liu Au Gai Pan from Dragon Tea House
This is a pouch that sat sealed for many months as I worked my way through too many other teas bought around the same time. I’ve been trying to be more disciplined about my green teas the same way I have about my greener oolongs and senchas, not opening a bunch at once and having all degrade significantly before I finish them, but despite being sealed, this one may have suffered for it.
The leaves are a deep green, darker than the average long jing, but also more or less long, thin, and while not completely flattened, not curly either. The scent is reminiscent of fukamushi sencha—sweet, deep, vegetal, with a hint of cucumber. Tantalizing!
4.8 grams in my Petr Novak iron-rich kyusu this morning, preheated, and now the aroma of the heated leaves is more like sweet peas.
Flash rinse with filtered tap water about 180 degrees: not much there in the wash. It’s not that there aren’t hints of deliciousness, but it really is super dilute, even for my tea-wimp’s palate. With that in mind, I’ll do the first infusion proper longer, perhaps a minute.
1 minutes, 150 degrees: sweet peas, vegetal, but an astringent finish, that reminds me of an overcooked vegetable.
30 seconds, 180 degrees: went hotter and shorter to try to bring out the sweet over the overcooked vegetable taste, and didn’t quite succeed.
I’m not sure if this unpleasant vegetable flavor is related to the heating of the leaf during processing, or is due to the tea sitting too long before drinking, but it definitely is something I recognize and dislike in many green teas. It is not present in the bag of dried leaf, but comes out as soon as the leaf hits the preheated brewing vessel, before it’s even wetted.
I’m going to switch to a porcelain gaiwan, in case that makes a difference, and will prepare it with a cooler start. The flash start is something I read about in a blog a few months ago, and it’s really been lovely with long jing and Gu Zhu Zui Sun, so I thought I’d try it here, but perhaps this tea does not want it.
2 grams in small porcelain gaiwan, infusions about 75 mL water.
145 degrees, 30 seconds, a little better in flavor profile—brought out more sweetness, but too light from the short infusion.
I’ll stick with 30 seconds next infusion, because the now-wetted leaves will give more in this one even with the same infusion time.
30": still can’t separate the sweet flavor—and I do get the sense of melon—from the overcooked and astringent vegetable. Bummer.
160 degrees, 30 seconds: no real change.
Last gasp: 212 degrees, 30 seconds: astringency with edges of the sweetness.
It’s frustrating. It looks good, the leaf smells terrific, but I can’t make this one really pleasant. I feel like I’ve failed the tea. Oh well. Since this is a classic tea, I’ll try it again one day, but I’ll get a small sample and drink it right away to give it the best chance.
Round II: out of curiosity, and because I had an open pouch already of the ‘White Oolong’ (spring 2011 from Jenai Township, Nantou County, Taiwan), I compared them this evening. I used a little less tea so the leaves wouldn’t be pushing up the lids of the gaiwans.
3.5 grams of tea on small gaiwans, about 75 mL per infusion, kettle set to maintain 205 degrees throughout
The Tsou Ma Fei has a richer, more floral scent; the White Oolong is sharper. TMF has larger leaves, and the dried leaf balls are a little paler sage color.
15": probably could have been a little longer, and the white oolong is distinctly lighter here too—even with only 15" infusion, the TMF is sweet and though not yet deeply flavored, it has more depth than the lightly sweet and grassy WO.
30": Very similar to the first infusion distinction: both sweet, spicy, but the TMF is definitely richer, deeper, sweeter—a stronger flavor at the base. The WO is delicious, but in a more delicate way, and it shines better when I sip it first, enjoy the lighter tea, then drink up the TMF.
30": Similar distinctions, both very similarly sweet and floral and spicy, but definitely a deeper richer oolong-ness in the TMF, and a grassier, more delicate white-tea-ishness in the WO. I understand better now why Greg calls the WO ‘White’ ‘Oolong’.
30-45": delicious again, such a nice ‘comparison’, where the teas are each so nice, but so distinct.
Several minutes (forgot!): still delicious, and both forgave the long infusion
1 minutes: this time, a little light—although normally this would be a good infusion length at this point in the series, the long prior infusion took a lot out of each of the leaves.
Almost 3 minutes: more delicate, but still delicious, floral and sweet both, but distinct
5 minutes: still a difference between them, but both are now floral, sweet, and the astringency and spiciness are mostly gone
I think I missed at least two infusions towards the end here, long infusions where I just ignored the gaiwans for a while and then poured and drank. They were also good. A lot of people might have stopped before this point, but the leaves were still yielding an improvement over plain water, so I enjoyed them. And interestingly, the flavors of both lasted to this point about equally well, with the same consistent flavor profile difference maintained to the end.
5 grams of tea in a 100mL gaiwan, with about 75mL water per infusion, water heated to about 205 degrees. The leaves are quite large rolled up, and large and lovely unrolled, deep green with reddish margins.
20": elegant, floral, spicy, sweet—a wonderful starter infusion.
30": spicy sweet dominates the floral a bit in the first sip. There is a hint of astringency in the last few drops, so I will decrease the next infusion time.
20": rich, spicy-sweet, floral and deep. It reminds me very much of the ‘white oolong’ from Norbu, but they are not quite the same. I will need to do a head-to-head to figure out why there are not.
30": a little more astringency and spiciness, with the sweet lighter—more apparently if I slurp with a lot of inhalation. It’s not the grassy astringency of a sencha, but some drying on the tongue, a woody/herby/spicy quality.
20": shortening again, as the unfurling leaf has filled the gaiwan with long, deep green leaves with red tinted edges, so full that I realize its a LOT of leaf, and the shorter infusion is, indeed, very unlike water: a little lighter than the first, but still spicy-sweet in that wonderful Ali Shan way, mmmmm.
25": such a fantastic spicy floral scent—sweet, but not cloying, hints of cinnamon and almonds, and I just want to sniff and sniff. Eventually, a sip proves just as lovely, but more of the spicy flavor is dominant.
40": (last infusion was a little thin) sweet, floral, spiciness receded a bit for mellower feel this time
45": (lost track of time) we’re mostly at sweetwater here, but very delicious sweet water with hints of flower and spice.
10 minutes (lost track of time again): spice, warmth, some hay/caramel base but still light, floral notes mostly gone but a little sweetness remaining
about 5 minutes: warm, light, sweet with just a little warm depth to it, better than the last one, though thinner, because the sweetness was better balanced
about 5 min: warm, sweet, delicious but light.
Had at least another 3-4 infusions like this, long, slow, just mild and warmly sweet for the end of the evening
I did prepare a thermos full of this tea earlier in the day, and one of my regular tea-buddies said of it, “really high class, that one !” It does stand out.
This is a very tricky tea. It’s color suggests a very light roasting, yet early infusions tend to an almost scorched bitter taste if not prepared with a very light hand (short/dilute infusions). But handled well, it gives light, sweet liquor with a deep spiciness that does bring cinnamon to mind, deliciously and delicately. Tonight I overdid it, packing my small porcelain korean pot so tightly the lid is almost lifted off by the unfurled leaves, and at this concentration, I’m still doing hardly more than flash rinses 6 or 7 infusions into it. I think it has enough for 15 or 20 infusions so tightly packed.
Finished off this tea while traveling, brewing under not quite optimum circumstances, and it was flexible and forgiving enough to permit many splendid cups despite more distractions and less conducive setup than at home. Delicate, vegetal, floral, springlike, it has many of the features I like best in Long Jing and less of the nuttiness that often overwhelms them.
I liked it best when giving the leaves a ‘hot start’ with a flash rinse of water at 180 or 190 degrees, before starting regular infusions at about 160 degrees, and slowly working back up to water just off the boil after 6-8 infusions.













