Bai Ji Guan Tea by TeaSpring

4 Tasting Notes

Angrboda 3 tasting notes

This is one of the oolongs I bought from TeaSpring the last time I shopped there. The mission was to put out some feelers for a replacement for Shang Teas Clear Jade Orchid, and in the process I let it get a little away from me. I don’t think I really considered this one a candidate but the whole shopping process was going so well… You know?

Anyway, this one also goes by the name of White Cockscomb and it’s one of those that has a legend attached to it. Somehow those legend teas have a special appeal to me. I think they speak to the mythological and creative bits of my soul. This may have been part of the reason I decided to try it. It’s also not impossible that I was seduced by the fact that it’s a Fujian tea. In fact, this is very likely.

I don’t think I’ve ever tried this particular oolong before. I think I would have remembered if I had. I mean, I can’t make any statements regarding Dan Cong or Da Hong Pao because I don’t have any experience to speak of with them, but I know I have definitely had both and had them more than once. So I think I would remember if I’ve had this one before, at least if I’d had it more than once. Why am I justifying this anyway? As if I’m not supposed to be having something for a second time ever. Let’s just leave this whole train of thought.

The aroma of the dry leaves didn’t hide their Fujian origin. There was that fainly wood-y note of general oolong-ness and a fairly strong sweet note of something very cocoa-like. Not quite cocoa, but close enough to put that association into my head. After steeping the aroma is more or less the same. Very cocoa-y and sweet and not super-honeyed, but there is definitely some honey there.

So I was expecting a mouthful of something sweet, sort of cocoa-y and what I actually got was kind of wooden and vegetal and completely unexpected. Of course it has cooled a bit now because I was roped into a weird discussion before I could really get started on this. There is a certain grainy-ness coming out if I sort of slurp it a bit. It’s there all the time, but slurping makes it stand out a bit more. I suspect this is the same thing as when you slurp wine a bit and get more air mixed into it, the flavours will develop more and grow. With this grainy-ness I also get some of that cocoa-y note back and I’m quite pleased with this. We’re getting back to that Fujian-ness that I know so well and away from the strange initial vegetal, oddly yellow, flavour of the first sip.

It’s definitely not a candidate for the Clear Jade Orchid replacement at all, but as mentioned I don’t think I ever thought it would be either. In its own right, I’m finding it quite enjoyable. Shame it’s so expensive though.

2012-01-28 05:54:35 -0500

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Amazingly I’ve only had this once in spite of apparently having enjoyed it the first time. I suppose it’s a question of forgetting what it was and what I thought about it and therefore assuming that it was as of yet untried. Untried teas require a bit more effort than tried once, what with the posting on Steepster and all.

So I was just reading the other post I made about it and since that one was western style, I decided to semi-gong-fu it this time and see what happens. The last time I did that was with the Da Hong Pao and you may remember that I noted how the whole tasting experience feels vastly different between the two, western giving a general overview of the big picture and gong-fu providing a more detailed study, layer for layer. In the Da Hong Pao, you may remember, there were even things which I found was missing in the gong-fu-ish session.

Interesting if I’ll have the same experience this time.

So far on the first steep the aroma seems to be quite similar to what I noticed in the western style cup. It’s wooden and oolong-y and it has a strong note of cocoa, revealing its Fujian origins. I think Fujian is the region I think brings out the biggest cocoa notes. There are others that do as well, of course, but for me Fujian just does it stronger. There’s something sweet underneath, which may or may not be a honeyed note. I’m not sure about this yet.

This is one of the teas that tastes exactly like it smells. Wooden and oolong-y and with a lot of cocoa. It gets slightly floral towards the end of the sip, and again, there is something sort of sweet underneath, but I still can’t tell if I think it’s honey-y.

But again I find myself thinking, ‘I should have liked a touch of caramel notes here…’ Just like with the Da Hong Pao. What is wrong with me? Myself, you can’t have caramel in everything. You just can’t; it’s not on.

The second steep is much sweeter in the aroma than the first. Now I’m getting those hints of caramel that I apparently so desperately crave in oolongs. The cocoa is rather missing, though, so I suspect it that particular note which has now transformed. I still can’t shake that honey thought though, even if I can’t actually identify it.

This is really all there is to the aroma. Almost all of the cocoa is missing or has been transformed, whichever way you look at it, and the wooden oolongness is greatly diminished as well.

The flavour still has that woody note, though. However, it strikes me as a fairly weakly cup, because that’s really all I get. Around it there is a little bit of vaguely floral sweetness, but mostly the flavour of warm water.

On the third steep only the aroma has really changed. It’s a bit floral now and definitely honey sweet. There is a little of the wooden oolongness left, but it’s still at the same level as the second steep. Very little.

Flavour wise, it’s the same as the second steep again. A little more vague, but otherwise identical. I believe it’s time to use larger increases in steep time now.

For the fourth steep the aroma has gained a little of the wooden note back, but that’s really all there is to it. It’s hiding in the steam, but it’s there. All by its lonesome.

The flavour has the wooden note back again as well, but it’s desperately thin tasting, Like a cup of tea which hasn’t actually been allowed to steep for more than a small part of the time it wants to. Again, there is nothing here but the non-descript wooden note apart from the hint of something cocoa-y just before the swallow. Even the second and third steeps with their hot water flavours seemed fuller than this because there were other notes in there to find. Here? Nothing.

So, as this is not supposed to be a stress test of the human bladder, I’m not going to waste any more time with this and go straight for the fifth steep now with an even larger increase in steep time. For the first steeps I started at 30 seconds and raised the times 15 seconds at the time. Then I raised it by 30 seconds and have no raised it by a whole minute.

Now the aroma has gained a floral note, which has an ever so slightly sharp aspect to it. In fact, it now reminds of the aroma of a random generic greenish oolong. No woodenness, no cocoa. Just something kind of floral and something vaguely butter-y. It’s like the leaves have completely changed character.

I was not expecting this.

I wish that I could say the flavour followed suit. Alas, this is still a transparant sort of hint of wood surrounded by a whole lot of nothing.

I think we’ve come to the end of the line with this one. Western style or semi-gong-fu, this was only really interesting on the first steep anyway. I don’t think I’m losing out on anything in this one by doing it western style like I’m used to. Quite the opposite, it seems. The rating stands.

2012-03-21 03:02:45 -0400

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2012-07-29 04:27:33 -0400

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Auggy

More backlogging! Whee!

The smell is super interesting. Grassy but toasted, floral, honeyed woodsy and chocolaty. The wet leaves have notes of fresh rye bread and… raisins? The liquor smells toasted but green – somewhat like Zealong Aromatic.

Oh the flavor! It’s honeyed, roasted, floral, green, creamy. It has a fuzzy, creamy mouthfeel on the front and a clean, slightly crisp aftertaste. There’s all sorts of lovely flavors poking out and swirling about in this tea. Green, floral, creamy, woodsy, toasty, grain-y, honey, fruity…. it’s really delightful.

The second steep is a bit more on the roasted than green side of the street. It’s still got nice floral and honey notes, but stone fruit pops out more, as well as a gentle roasted note.

Third steep brings to mind a slightly more typical wuyi with darker flavors and an air of mystery.

Fourth steep brings to mind a milk oolong. No seriously, it does. Lightly caramel notes over a soft silkiness. I should have kept the leaves. Why did I get rid of them before trying this cup???

2012-08-04 12:50:46 -0400

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deftea 2 tasting notes

Bai Ji Guan has a status almost as mythical as the Yixing Pot itself. If you believe half of what you read on tea blogs, etc., this tea should transport you to heretofore unattainable planes of pleasure and enlightenment.
Inspired by Thomas Smith’s recent post on Steepster here: http://steepster.com/ThomasSmith/posts/63238#comments, I was determined to try this tea — my first time with Bai Ji Guan.
It was difficult to find. I was told by Jing Teas that the 2010 crop was inferior because of climatic conditions. Tillerman was out; Hou De didn’t have any. The only 2010 Bai Ji Guan I could find was from Teaspring.
Well, if this is inferior, I’m not sure I could handle “the truth” about Bai Ji Guan. I’ll try to break it down:
First, I am partial to old-style Wuyi oolongs, traditional heavy roasts. At the same time, I understand the preference for “new” light roasts with more vegetal and floral draperies. Bai Ji Guan seems, impossibly, to hold on to both tendencies. A sniff of the bag convinced me it was Yancha — could have been Da Hong Pao or Rou Gui; no big deal. Color of dry leaves was light golden but not as blond as I’ve seen advertised. But when I slid the leaves into a very pre-warmed pot, the aroma gushed toasted pecans. I awoke with my head in my grandmother’s oven.
After playing around with this tea in a gaiwan (which is where I suggest you start), I filled the little pot almost full — not tightly packed, just loose 80 percent to the top. Quick rinse and just as quick a first infusion. Really. Just a deep breath, then pour.
This is no mere Yancha! In the gaiwan, the spice and pepper were way up front. Sharp almost. Now, in the pot, the green pepper was perfectly balanced with roasted nuts, while a smokey, yes pipe tobacco sense, lay just behind.
I really felt like the difference between Bai Ji Guan and other Yanchas was spatial — similar aromas and tastes but different hierarchy and layers of sensation. Also, the deep creamy thickness that came out of a very light amber liquor. I’ve really never had quite the combination.
In subsequent infusions the tobacco-nut flavor remained dominant. But I’ve never had a tea that changed so much across steeps. Nuts yield to flowers, flowers for a moment seem vegetal. I wish I had Thomas Smith’s fine-tuned vocabulary! Yes, husks and caramels and rain-soaked hay! Egg. I never knew what egg meant until now.
Spent leaves are golden and green, very light. Worshipful.
So. This didn’t make me giddy the way good Dan Congs do. But it may be even more profound; I’m not yet sure.
I can’t believe this is an “inferior” year. May I live to taste next year’s crop. May I live to suck this last little drop off the cup.

2011-02-01 23:28:27 -0500

190 °F / 87 °C

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