I’m not gong to lie, I was expecting something quite different than what appears in the cup. Maybe it was the lofty title or maybe the fantastic tradition behind the processing that caused me to have a delusion of grandeur toward this tea. Please don’t get me wrong, it is by no means a bad or even average tea. It’s just not what I expected, that’s all. That’s probably my fault.
Anyway, it is very reminiscent of a mild cooked puerh or aged sheng. The mouthfeel is very smooth and the flavor profile is mild, earthy and warm. It slides in nicely with some of the better dark puerh I’ve had, in fact after the third steep I blended it with some near spent Menghai Orange-in-Orange and the result is affirming to the quality of both teas.
And as an update I’ve found a very interesting dimension to the flavor profile of this tea. Underneath the aforementioned similarity to better puerh is the thick and earthy tone of grilled mushroom. Portabella, to be exact. It adds a meatiness to the liquor and more depth than I had realized. As the seller notes, a dedicated Yixing pot would most likely coax the best possible flavors out of the brew. This, more so than any other tea I’ve had, would seem to benefit most from such nurturing because the best flavors to be found in this tea are also the most subtle. An Yixing would enable the flavors to compound and concentrate wonderfully, I’m sure, though I wouldn’t go so far as to derive notions of immortality from them.
There is only one path to perfect eternity, my friends.