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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.

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