41 Tasting Notes
Ah, one of my favorites!
The Fukamushi Sencha Yame from Den’s has been one of my favorites since I first discovered “real” Japanese green tea. It can occasionally be bit tempermental if brewed a bit too hot from the outset (or [in this instance] brewed a little too thin), but I know I can always count on it for a quality cuppa green.
I thought I was almost out of this tea, but I dumped the remainder of my tin onto the scale this morning and saw “18G.” Alright! With ~3 good pots left, I decided to skim off 6G and toss it in my ~350ml kyusu for a big pot of morning tea.
After brewing the first up (165*/ 90 secs), I realized that I should have added a couple more grams to the pot — I love the full-bodied, slightly thick nature of this tea when it’s closer to a 1:1 ratio. Still, I very much enjoyed the mild, kelp-y sweetness that I can squeeze out of this tea when I brew it at a lower temperature from the start.
Once I finished my second cup, I noticed that my tongue still feels soft and smooth, with lingering fruit-y notes that stuck around for afterwards. Mmm! I don’t notice any bitterness or astringency until my 3rd and 4th steepings (both over 185*), but you can easily remedy that by starting about 10-15* hotter in the beginning.
After hearing such wonderful things about the hand-selected oolongs available at the Tea Masters blog, I decided to take the plunge and order a puerh sampler and a handful of oolongs to see what they were all about. The owner/ humble tea master Stéphane helped me select a few different teas, but I ultimately decided to go with the Si Ji Chun and Gao Shan Luanze oolongs to get a feel for the differences in price, quality, and altitude.
I started my journey with the extremely affordable Si Ji Chun oolong, for it allows me to get a feel for the “lower end” of the Tea Master’s spectrum. The leaves are beautifully rolled and unfurl to long, bright green leaves complete with their stems and even a couple buds. If I look closely I can see where the edges have been oxidized, but it’s VERY light.
To me, this tea tastes fresh, sweet, and grows increasingly “green” as my steeping times increase. It reminds me more of a pan-fired Chinese tea more so than a kelp-y Japanese green, but it’s got a certain vegetal aftertaste that I just can’t get out of my head! While I’m accustomed to Taiwanese oolongs being far less roasted and malty tasting (in comparison to Chinese teas), this one really surprised me with its bright flavors and floral notes and honey-like sweetness that shine early on at high temperatures.
In summation: I’m very impressed with the flavors and drinkability of this inexpensive ($5 for 25g) oolong. When I was on vacation, I tossed a handful of these oolong “pearls” into a ceramic cup and poured boiling water over them — the tea turned out great! My only suggestion would be to use about a 1-1.25:1 ratio in your gaiwan or pot (4-5g for 100ml of water); as a little extra leaf seems to really enhance the bouquet of sweetness. Would definitely order again!
Every time that I’ve peeked into my tea cabinet this year, Peets’ Ancient Trees Pu-erh has stared right back at me. I purchased a tin way back in January with a christmas gift card, and have been saving it for a special occasion; assuming that there were two 50g tuo chas inside. As it turns out, there’s somewhere around 20 single-pot tuo chas inside! I had no excuse to avoid this tea any longer.
I popped one of the ~4g tuo cha in my 100ml gaiwan and started with a lower temperature (180*) rinse for 20s to help clean and open the leaves. Afterwards, I used ~195* water for 30 seconds, and strained it into my litlte gong-fu pitcher. Here’s where the fun really began.
This shu (I’m assuming?) pu’er comes from “organic, ancient trees,” and for a small tuo cha, it does have a fair amount of distinguishable leaves by the third or fourth infusion. It does, however, make for a perfect introduction to the flavors found in the thick, robust world of pu’er.
From the outset, I can’t help but notice the slightly floral flavor of rose hips that slowly gives way to the classic smoky earthiness of ripened pu’er. As I increase each steep by 15 seconds or so, the color shifts from a light pink, to chocolate brown, to an opaque black brew that’s almost indistinguishable from a good cup of coffee. After 6 solid steeps, it began to slowly fade away for another 4-5 infusions or so; never really straying far from its initial flavor.
Peet’s “Ancient Trees” Pu’er might not be all that exciting for knowledgeable pu’er fans, but it’s a very nice introduction to the smoky, spicy flavors found in the world of pu’er. If you don’t care for it at first, give it a couple months to mellow out and come back to it later on. I think I might take it out of the tin and pop it into a little cotton bag I have to give it a little room to breathe.
Boy, am I glad I gave this tea another chance!
I received a generous sample of O-Cha’s Otsuusan from my fellow Green Tea enthusiast Shiobicha, and brewed it up according to my normal parameters a couple weeks back (2 tbsp/155*/1.5mins, first steeping). It came out overwhelmingly sweet and soapy through all three steepings, and I couldn’t even bring myself to finish my iced; diluted final steeping.
Today I was thinking of cracking open something new, but remembered I had samples to work through first. I added two level tbsp to my 10oz kyusu and let my 165* water steep for a little over two minutes. Much to my surprise, the “soapy” taste was almost nowhere to be found in this rich, forest green cup of tea.
The next two steepings (~180 for 2.5 minutes, and boiled thereafter) were rich and tasty — I used a full 10oz for my final steeping, and was still able to get a nice vegetal sweetness that never overwhelmed me in the way my first experience did. Not sure if I’d necessarily buy it, but it’s a fun blend if you don’t mind working to get it right!
What an awesome and interesting green!
I’m not too familiar with Chinese greens aside from the bagged and the basic (bi lo chun, dragonwell, gunpowder), but this tea was so curious I had to log it. I got a small sample from Far Leaves the last time I stopped in for some oolongs, and finally got around to giving it a try this afternoon. I think it may have just changed my whole outlook on chinese greens!
As the description suggests, this tea starts off surprisingly “kelpy” and vegetal; but with a surprising buttery sweetness that caught be completely off guard. The first few sips were so smooth and soft on the tongue, I thought someone had sprinkled some karigane in my cup!
After the first few buttery infusions, the tea slowly shifts into a darker-colored (yet light and grassy tasting) brew that tastes more like the Chinese greens that I’m used to. It’s a curious little tea — I just might have to give it a try again!
Made my first trip out to the Far Leaves Tea store the other day, and I immediately fell in love with the simple surroundings and all the delicious teas that I tried. After enjoying an awesome pot of Bi Lo Chun at my table, I asked to sample some Taiwanese oolongs in hopes of getting a better idea of what I like in an oolong. The owner, Donna, asked me if I’d like to try one of her all-time favorites that she had just hand-selected and flown over from Taiwan. How could I refuse? After two sips, I was completely sold on the Dong Ding — she packed me an (overflowing) tin, and I’ve been enjoying it ever since.
I don’t possess the palate (nor the adjective set!) to accurately describe the intricacies of 7+ tiny cups of tea, but what I can tell you from my various cups over the last two days is that this particular Dong Ding has an INCREDIBLE floral aroma that I simply cannot get out of my head. Every sip and sniff of this tea just explodes with the sweet scent of blossoming Gardenias, while the flavor slowly transitions from sweet and soft; to astringent and “full.” It takes about three infusions for the leaves to fully open up, but it’s fun watching and tasting the tea as it deepens in color and flavor over the next ~4 infusions.
I’ve been using the directed amount of rolled leaf in a “normal-sized” gaiwan (about 1tsp/~70ml of slightly cooled water), but I haven’t been very precise with my timings or temperatures — I’m still new to gaiwans and gong-fu, so I’m taking it a cup at a time. I do have to admit that I have been enjoying a break from all the fuss I normally make preparing greens.. :)
I’m off to bed now, but I have a feeling I’ll be thinking about this tea until my next cup.
I’ve been enjoying my Kiri no Mori matcha for the last couple months iced, hot, and mixed together with powdered sencha (not bad!), but after receiving my first chawan as a birthday gift from my wonderful fiancée, I finally had an excuse to get a chasen and do things right. I rushed out and picked up a cheap 80-prong whisk to practice with, and I can finally say it’s worth every penny.
I’m just “OK” at mixing up my matcha, but my fiancée is amazing at getting a delicious, thick froth with the Kiri no Mori. I add two sifted scoops of matcha and about 2-4oz of water to my preheated chawan, and she uses her magic touch to feverishly whisk up a tasty froth. I’m a little paranoid of scratching up the bottom of my chawan (even though I soak my chasen beforehand), but she has no problem saying just above the bottom of the bowl to get the perfect foam. It’s similar to the brew I previously concocted with a milk frother/whisk, but MUCH creamier and more uniform — there’s just something special about sipping on seafoam!
So far, I’m incredibly pleased with the Kiri no Mori. Its taste and aroma are somewhat mild, but I love the way it retains its mellow sweetness in any preparation. It really is a wonderful beginner’s matcha.