Teadonism

Okay, here’s what I’m looking for–mini tuo-chas, both shu and sheng, that I can easily take to work and that will be both tasty and forgiving under *very* minimalistic brewing conditions. 

 How minimalistic?  Basically, I boil 5 oz of water in an open Pyrex measuring cup, drop in the tuo-cha, wait for the tea to be relatively settled (shorter for sheng, but many infusions), and pour it straight into the cup of my gaiwan.  Then I just add more hot water to the Pyrex and repeat until there’s nothing left to the tea. No washes/rinses, no preheating of implements, and I occasionally prod moodily at it with a straightened paper clip…very basic, very careless. 

First up: The Shu Showdown: Beyond Thunderdome!  Two mini tuo chas enter–One mini tuo cha leaves.  (Tina Turner not included)

I had on hand a sack o’ mini tuo chas in shu puerh that I picked up at Ten Ren in Chicago for the moderate price of $15 for about fifty-some of the little buggers, and a small sample of shu puerh mini tuo chas that I ordered from The Tao of Tea, which is where I got my new tasting/aroma cup sets.  I decided to put these in a head-to-head battle for my at-work affections.  I might order more from a different company in the future, but for now, these two would do.

The Ten Ren shu mini tuos were of a somewhat lower-quality than the Tao of Tea shu mini tuos…at least, I believe they were.  I’m basing this on 1) taste and 2) the incredible number of annoying floating twig bits that I found in the Ten Ren tuos as opposed to the mostly-leaf blend of the Tao of Tea tuos.  The high twig ratio made the Ten Ren puerh break up faster as the twigs struggled to escape and float, but this also made it difficult to pour reasonably “clean” and clear tea into my drinking cup.

Both brands were very straightforward–shu taste, plain and simple, with good depth and minimal complexity.  (Perfect for sucking down after greasy lunch at McDonalds, yum.)  Suitably coffee-like for office comfort needs, and suitably low-maintenance for the minimal brewing care.

I did prefer the Tao of Tea tuo chas, though.  They were a bit smoother and less pondy/murky tasting, but only a bit.  The biggest factor was those gosh-darn twigs so prevalent in the Ten Ren tuos. 

So, I’d order the mini shu tuo chas from The Tao of Tea again.  They were perfect low-care brewing treats for my desk at work, and yielded plenty of cups of decent puerh.  I’ll drink up the Ten Ren stuff, though, too–wasn’t bad, just bothersome.

The other mini tuo chas for at work were the green/raw/sheng ones from The Tao of Tea.  I got a small sample of these as well and was hoping they would work for my at-work sheng.

The dry sheng mini-tuo had a very bright, citrus-y scent to it, whereas the liquor had a toasty, almost grain-like scent with a citrus overlay.  The inital steeping was about 45 seconds with boiling water (one mini-tuo for about 5oz of water), which wasn’t even enough time to allow it to break down completely.  The first infusion was “green” tasting, delicate (probably not enough infusion, frankly) and a bit astringent, but not too dry.  It had a smooth, almost buttery depth to it that I *really* liked, though.  Is as good as the sencha and genmaicha I have on my desk, and likely better.  Nothing at all bitter or unpleasant about this brew.

After the first infusion, the mini tuo puffed up into a darling, fluffy, tiny “nest” in the pyrex cup.  It was *so* pretty and bright green that I just had to touch it, so I picked it up and prodded at it and broke it apart.  It was really fun to play with–I love touching “used” tea leaves, don’t know why.  This made my fingers smell like a bright, sweet, citrus candy–yum!

Second infusion was for about a minute.  I used my patented “partially straightened paper clip” technique to prod down the still-floating leaves and poured it off into my cup.  It’s now easier to note that the leaves are *very* fragmented–makes for a bit of a messy cup the way I’m doing it, sans-straining, but still perfectly tolerable for drinking.  The leaves are *such* a pretty green and smell just like orange sherbet–citrus, cream, sweetness…

The liquor itself is bright, cheerful, sweet, citrusy (there is *so* much citrus taste in this sheng, it’s bizarre)…but rather astringent this time.  Could probably do with an even shorter steep, but that’s tough, using this brewing method.  More than just “drinkable,” though, it’s bracing and uplifting.  Super for work.

Unfortunately, as the liquor sits in my cup with the small amount of loose leaves in the bottom that “poured over,” it’s still steeping enough to render it rather bitter if not drunk quickly.  Rather *quite* bitter, to the point where I might have stomache trouble with it if I drink too much. In fact…ugh.  I can’t finish this.  Will have to dump it, yiiiick. Will have to devise a slightly more sophisticated straining method…like…a strainer, perhaps!

Third infusion…I’m almost afraid to drink this now.  My tongue is *still* curling from the assault it just endured.  Now I *know* what happens when one brews sheng for a bit too long.  Ugh.

 So, I transferred the leaves into my gaiwan so I could strain it better, and will be drinking from…ummm…the pyrex measuring cup.  Oh, well.  Only brewed it for the briefest of moments–thirty seconds.

It’s fine, now.  Much easier to drink.  The pleasant green citrusy-ness is back, the horrible, nauseating bitterness is gone, etc.  It’s a bit dry, still, but nicely so.

Umm.  I would’ve been able to get lots more out of this puerh, but I sort of spazzed and burned my fingers on the office gaiwan (I hate this thing.  I need another nice one like the black one I have at home) and dropped the tea, and…yes.

So.  In short, the sheng mini tuo chas from Tao of Tea are just fine–if you’re brewing them carefully and are not a klutz like me.  Will likely not be drinking lots of sheng at work–I’ll stick to the shu–as it’s just a bit more attention than I’m able to devote to the stuff during the work day.

Lest anyone needed another reminder of how new I am at this serious tea business, or how generally clueless I am in a spacial sense…a series of (hopefully amusing) tableaux:

My order (see below) arrived from Jing Tea Shop and I tore into it enthusiastically.  I decided I wanted to try the shu puer I ordered first (see the “Reviews” category for tasting notes) and opened it accordingly, arraying the necessary brewing accessories on my…umm…broiler pan.

Then, I paused, studying the unwrapped, whole tuo cha carefully.

After the pause grew, Pete, who was watching me, said, “What?”

“Umm,” I replied cautiously. “I don’t really know what to do next.  Supposedly I can sort of break chunks off of this, but it’s…ummm…compressed way tighter than I though it would be.”

I tried attacking it sort of sideways-like with a butter knife, but only succeeded in scraping a powdery, crushed-leaf mess off the very surface.  That definitely wasn’t right.  Then I remembered someone suggesting using a hammer to make an initial dent in it, then break it up more easily. I definitely was going to skip the “steaming” method, yikes.

The tuo cha goes into a plastic bag and my cruddy picture-nail hammer comes out:

I tap it gingerly on the sides…nothing.  Harder on the sides…still nothing.  Feeling slightly foolish (Pete is clearly snapping pictures of my ineptitude at this point), I decide to give it a good whack right on the top of the bowl:

At this point, although it’s hard to tell in the picture above, I put a gaping, perfectly round hole *right* through the bag *and* the tuo cha, reducing all of the puerh in the path of the hammer to fragmented tea-dust with my Cosmic Hammer Wielding Power of Mightyness:

CURSES!

Anyway…I took it back to the table and took the knife to it again.  This time, I had the gaping crater to work from, and it chunked rather easily:

I brewed the tea.  It was wonderful.  I felt genuinely guilty for smashing it so idiotically.

However, the hole did help me to understand the make-up of the tuo cha *much* better.  I smacked myself on the forehead, seeing how easy it would be to get chunks off after making one forceful, small push below the surface of the compressed tea.  Once you’re “in,” it is very easy…the trick is just to get in *gently*, rather than doing one’s best Thor impression.

Whoops.

 All further tuo cha endeavours have been far more successful and have only needed the butter knife.

Oh, well.  I’m learning.

*Tongue-firmly-in-cheek reference to the excellent pu-erh.net, only self-derision intended. Go visit now!

Vendor: Jing Tea Shop 

This was hugely exciting for me!  My first shipment from China, my first puerh that I chose on my own to have for myself, my first good gaiwan, yay!

Here’s the box that was so immensely satisfying to get:

And here’s everything all arrayed prettily:

This is what I ordered:

– 1 X Hei You Gaiwan
– 1 X 2003 Raw Puerh Beeng Tasting Series
– 1 X 1999 CNNP Red Label - sample
– 1 X Lao Tong Zhi 04
– 2 X Xia Guan Te Ji Tuo Cha
– 1 X 2001 Meng Hai Tea Factory Raw Wild  Yi Wu Sample

– 1 X Feng Huang Jia Ji Tuo Cha 04
– 1 X Fu Hai Puerh 7536 sample

There were also four wonderful samples included!  What a great treat–I don’t have written down with me here (at work) what they were, but rest assured that these and all of the above will be reviewed shortly.  I was especially pleased to get the bonus samples since some of the samples I *ordered* come from cakes that, since my initial order, are no longer available.  I hope I can fall in love with one or two that I can still get my hands on!

 Even if I can’t, though, I have no worries–I know that the people at Jing Teashop will be able to steer me in the right direction.  This was my first time ordering with them, but I’d heard nothing but good things, and I had a great experience!  They checked to make sure my shipment had arrived and that I was happy, answered all my emails, and urged me to ask any questions I might have about tea, tea culture, etc.  I would highly recommend them–excellent service, fast shipping, great packing, and super goods!

And, finally, a rather pretty shot of me *not* burning my hands as I use this gorgeous gaiwan:

I’m categorizing these teas as “easy to find” since I found them, and teas that *aren’t* easy to find are pretty scarce in this part of Wisconsin.

The first one I picked up from my local Asian grocery store. You’ve maybe seen it–it’s the one that looks like this:

(Picture shamelessly stolen from a defunct site via Google image search)

Now, I could’ve *sworn* that I’ve heard good things about this low-grade tea on a mailing list. I have a tin of green tea of the “Joy Luck” brand sitting on my desk at work, and it’s low-grade (tightly-rolled, gunpowder style) but is tolerable if brewed correctly. I was hoping this black, jasmine scented tea could join it there–when I want tea but haven’t the time or concentration to appreciate good tea properly.

And I brewed it carefully–water just off the boil, a normal ratio of tea-to-servings (I made this in a big pot with the standard “1 tsp/6oz” ratio), a reasonable steeping time (only about a minute, maybe a bit more–I don’t even like to let blacks go for long unless I trust their character), etc.

Still, the result was absolutely toxic. Bitter, scrapey-tasting, and almost shrill, with a bottom-dropping-out insipidness underneath and the cloying, sickly-strong scent of jasmine on top.

Ick. I gave some to Pete, who says he took about a sip and threw the rest out. I unknowingly took the rest in my thermos to work and was awfully saddened when I tried it. Still, I didn’t feel like coffee, so I choked down about two cups of it before I felt a little dizzy, flushed, and nauseous.

I’m certain it was psychosomatic, but, still…ick.

Did I do something wrong? I’ll give this stuff one more shot just to see if even more careful brewing can save it. For now, though…not on my “good” list. Do check out the stuff you’ll likely find right next to this on the shelves, though, in the green tin. It’s bitter and a little shrill, too, but still somewhat tolerable for a thoughtless, careless, drinking-in-lieu-of-water-at-work tea.

The second tea I wanted to write briefly about was a sort of “Random Encounter” tea. As I had a meeting this morning that I knew I wouldn’t be able to brew tea before, I stopped at an “Aspen” tea & coffee shop on my way in. (Try the spiced biscotti with the cream-cheese-ish frosting–they’re amazing.)

There, I had to choose between a slew of “Numi” teas and a slew of “Republic of Tea” teas, all in bags. I wanted green, so I picked this and went with it. It’s Numi’s Jasmine Green, and despite being brewed in too-hot water in a too-heat-retaining styrofoam cup and being brewed too long since I had about three minutes before I could dispose of the tea bag, the stuff wasn’t half bad.

The green tea base was nothing to write home about, being a little flat and character-less, but it was mild and not at all bitter. The jasmine was faint and not overpowering, and the tea was very forgiving of the terrible brewing conditions.

Check out Numi’s website for a lesson in incredibly slick marketing/packaging–the stuff is lovely, especially the completely impractical and most likely blah-tasting “Flowering Teas.” I wouldn’t buy any of their stuff for myself, but if I were out to eat and wanted hot tea, I wouldn’t turn my nose up at Numi’s bags.

That’s all for now! Later this week–my first shipment from Jing Teashop, some sheng puerhs, and silly pictures of me making my first attempt to break into a tuo cha.

Again, my first Yixing teapot, purchased at the Ten Ren in Chicago’s Chinatown–scroll down just a few posts to see a picture of it…

Anyway, upon further research and lots of agonized staring at the darling little creature, I’ve come to the conclusion that I cannot reliably say that this even *is* a Yixing teapot.

 Damn and blast!

Why do I say this?  Well–it makes the lovely, clear, trademark metallic “ring” that I’ve heard so often about when the lid is tapped on the body, which is good.  And it has small particles in it that catch the light with a bit of “sparkle,” which is good.

However, other tests I’ve heard about, it fails miserably.  The pour is very slow (35 seconds!), the venting hole in the lid does *nothing* to affect the pour of water, the lid is slightly cattywompus and doesn’t fit perfectly, etc.

Now, I understand that this could very well mean that this is a *lower quality* Yixing teapot, but still the genuine clay I was after.  I could accept that.  It’s my first, and is a learning experience.

But I just don’t know enough about Yixing to say this for certain.  Plus, I’ve seen it stated several times online that Ten Ren does not sell *any* actual Yixing pots, but rather *all* Taiwanese designs of different clay.  I can’t determine whether there is any truth to this or not, but it’s enough to make me wonder. 

Of course, I’ve seen Ten Ren pots like mine referred to as “Yixing” just as many times on blogs and whatnot, so I’m at my wit’s end trying to decide what the case is.

Therefore, I have decided to simply come to grips with the fact that I don’t know, and that I won’t really know until I have a chance to become more familiar with high-quaility yixing from other vendors.

In light of this decision, I’m going to dedicate this pot to shu puerh.  Why?  Well, shu seems to me to be not as delicate or difficult or nuanced as sheng puerhs or oolongs, and it can certainly tolerate that long pour-time when sheng would up and go toxic on me, most likely.  It’s also cheaper, and relatively simple for me to find (Chicago trips, online, etc.) and not as “important” to me as my sheng.  Plus, I have a decent amount of it sitting about now, perfect to use for this pot and for casually drinking/gongfuing with a meal or as a little treat.

And I, who am very often slightly anal-retentive about things I care about and concerned with perfection, knowledge, etc., am surprisingly “okay” with all of this.

 So, shu into the pot!  I’m still very excited about using it.

The next crisis was: How to season this teapot? 

There are a zillion suggestions on the web and newsgroups, from very complicated to very simple.  Most involve boiling water, some involve tea, and some involve freezers and tinfoil and ovens and….jeez.

Sounded like a hassle, and I wasn’t pleased with the wide variation of suggestions.  What to do? 

Default to a single, trusted source!  Stephane’s blog is always full of fascinating brilliance, and this advice comes from Teaparker, so…how can I go wrong?  I’ll rinse the sucker well, use it as a fairpot for awhile, take care to pour lots o’ tea on the outside, and go from there. 

If good, good!  If not-so-good…plenty of time to pull out the tinfoil and parka and powdered rhino horn and flux capacitator later…

I’ll report back to tell how the pot turns out in a few months.

More tea stuff!

My cast iron teapot, which I am almost certain is not actually Japanese and which I will therefore not refer to by its Japanese name…this is enamel coated inside and I’m currently using it as a faircup/serving pitcher which I decant into.  It’s much too big, but it keeps the tea warm and doesn’t take in the flavour of any specific tea, so it will do until I order an actual serving pitcher:

And this is my gaiwan, which I got from Jing Teashop and which I am madly in love with:

And this (prepare yourselves) is a mock-up of my current gongfu setup.  Yes, that is a new broiling pan.  I’m definitely asking for a proper tray for Christmas…for now, though, the boiling pan works nicely and doesn’t look *too* bad:

Also, my new cups/coasters and my pretty bamboo tea tool set just arrived from The Tao of Tea and Imperial Tea Garden, respectively, so I’m very excited about those.  You can expect more reviews of teas in the near future!

Here are some photos of my current teaware collection, along with a few notes on usage, etc.

This is the lovely hutch I inherited from my mother.  It has been taken over by tea and teaware, clearly:

This is my little Yixing teapot:

And these are my current gongfu cup sets.  I’m using acrylic sheets from photo frames for coasters right now, but I do have some bamboo coasters on order, along with some plain white porcelain cup sets:

More to come!

Well, this weekend I sat down to try the tuo cha and the beeng that I got from Chicago’s Chinatown.  I was eager to do this for a few reasons–first off, I really wanted to see how these cheaper shu’s were going to taste.  Secondly, I’ve decided that I’m going to use my new Yixing teapot for shu puerh (more on the “why” of that in another post), and I wanted to make sure that these shu’s weren’t going to be so icky-tasting as to have me not want them ever touching that teapot!

 First up was the tuo cha, which, as I understand it, is available in many Chinatowns and some larger Asian grocery stores.  This could very well be the tuo cha that so many people talk about trying for their first puerh experience and end up despising–I’m not sure.  Here it is again:

In all honesty, my rather dull beginner’s palate didn’t think it was half bad.  In fact, I liked it quite a bit.  It wasn’t nearly as good as the shu I got from Jing Teashop (see tasting notes below), as it was far, far less complex and “interesting” tasting, but it was good. 

As I said, it was very straightforward–it tasted smooth, slightly vegetal, and, well, like shu puerh.  There weren’t any “pondy” or icky overtones/aftertastes, however, and the smell of the leaves and liquor wasn’t offensive in the least.  I brewed up about five infusions of this in my 4oz gaiwan and was pleased with all of them.  Again, it tasted mellow and full and yummy, like something I’d very much want to drink with a meal.  So, setting me back only a buck-fifty in Chinatown, I’m deeming this tuo cha to be shu-puerh-Yixing-pot-worthy.  Hoorah!

The day after that, I tried the beeng:

Now, the very first thing I noticed about this puerh was that it was nowhere near as tightly compressed as the tuo cha’s I’ve been drinking have been–maybe that’s normal for this shape over that.  Also, the leaves were *much* bigger than those in the tuo cha, and were more whole.  There were also a lot more twigs.

Now, I don’t know exactly what the story is behind the bigger leaves–older?  poorer-quality trees?–but while I know it’s desirable sometimes, these leaves-and-twigs struck me as being of a lower quality than what I’ve been drinking.  Of course, I don’t know anything about this all yet, so I might be crazy.

 The taste is the important thing, though, of course, so I did multiple infusions of varying lengths in the gaiwan to see what I thought?  The verdict?  This stuff can go into the pot, too, because I don’t think it will hurt it.  This beeng was very faint-tasting, even when brewed a long time.  Again, there were no offensive smells or tastes, and the tea was very smooth and mild.  This tea was just missing the depth and fullness that even the tuo cha from Chinatown had.  This wasn’t offensive, just different–a much less-flavourful experience, but still not something I’d turn up my nose at a big pot of with dinner.

 So, all in all, I’m pleased with all of this tea and pleased that I bought two beengs and two tuo chas.  This will mean I have quite a bit of lower-quality shu to drink up, but I’m not in any hurry and am starting to really like cooked puerh as an everyday “coffee replacement” of sorts, so I’m glad to have lots of tea that I don’t have to worry about ruining and can put into my Yixing, etc.

Of course, your opinion on these puerhs may very well differ.  As I said, my palate is still pretty uneducated.  But I liked both of these better than I liked, say, the mini-shu-tuo cha’s from TenRen, and it’s the taste that matters.  So, at one-fifty a tuo cha and four-fifty a beeng for the teas above at a Chinatown or grocery near you, give ‘em a try and see what you think–then let me know!

Year: 2001, Spring

Producer: Meng Hai Tea Factory

Region: Meng Hai Tea Mountain

Vendor: Jing Teashop

Leaf: Dry–dark, tightly compressed, small and broken, a few twigs  Wet–shiny, lighter, many small pieces, some twigs.

Scent: Dry scent–not as “fishy” or “pondy” as the other (lower-quality) shu puerhs I’ve had access to, which is nice.  Wet scent–wet leaves smell very pondy with undertones of horse…clean horse.  That probably sounds very strange, but it’s what it reminds me of.

Liquour–Smells loamy, some sweetness.  Colour is dark reddish brown but translucent, and moves from very dark and almost “oily” looking to a rosier, orangier sepia tone as infusions progress, staying a very handsome chestnut for most of the infusions.

Infusion Parameters: 5 grams in a 4oz (120mL) gaiwan, boiling water, one 20s rinse followed by brief rest, 20s, 20s, 10s, 20s, 35s, 45s, 1min, 1min

Tasting Notes:

Infusion 1:  20s Smooth!  With a lot of depth…lots of loam/soil/pond on the top, but not unpleasantly so.  A tiny bit of dry afterbite, some new, raw wood taste.

Infusion 2: 20s Smoother yet.  Brighter, too, with less of the afterbite, and leather replacing the wood taste.

Infusion 3: 10s Flash infusion for curiosity’s sake–less depth but not in a bad way, otherwise same as above.  Would keep it at 20s in the future.

Infusion 4: 20s Much as above–the flavour is thinner but again, not in a bad way.  Very smooth, the leather is gone, but I’m having a hard time describing what the leather gave way to.  As close as I can figure, I’m now tasting the “ethos” of shu puerh.  I’ve never tasted anything else quite like it, so this leads me to believe that it is simply the puerh, the leaf, itself.  Yum.

Infusion 5: 35s As above but getting still “thinner” in flavour.

Infusion 6: 45s Lighter, with a delicate presence over the leaf that I can only call “musk”–light, slightly animal musk, but very attractive.

Infusion 7: 1min A sort of dark sweetness is coming through, and it’s really fabulous.  It even smells sweeter, and all the musk is gone.

Infusion 8: 1min I was intrigued by that sweetness despite the “thin” nature of the last infusion, so I tried one more minute and was rewarded by yet more sweetness.  This stuff is starting to taste almost delicate!  There’s no depth left at all, though, so it’s off to the thermos overnight for these leaves.

Overall notes”

In retrospect, if I would’ve given this tea 2 rinses as I’ve heard recommended sometimes for shu, it would’ve been perfect from the get-go.  As it was, I was feeling a little uncertain about how much I liked the first infusion, but the flavours I considered undesirable were gone by the second infusion, and I enjoyed it very much overall.  Somewhere halfway through I realized that this stuff just felt *good* going down, and I felt warm and alert, but relaxed and a trifle dizzy.  This is unexpectedly heady stuff, and I found myself fondly wishing that it could be got anywhere, brewed well, so that I could have it in place of coffee during breakfast at, say, IHOP.  In short, I just really enjoyed it.

I was also a little surprised by the time it took to do the tasting–about an hour and fifteen minutes from setup to knockdown.  It was very fun, though, and I know I’ll be thankful for these more detailed notes as I learn more about puerh. 

These are the two puerhs that I mentioned I picked up in Chicago’s Chinatown:

So, does anyone have an info for me? I know they’re both shu, and not of very good quality, but what can I expect? Are they going to be *truly* toxic and wretched? Where are they from? What sort of production period am I looking at?

So many questions. What I do know is this–these puerh came complete with…bugs! Yup. Little bitty greyish bugs, about the size of commas, living in the boxes with the tea.

This would deter most people from consuming this tea. Not me, though…I’ll definitely report back on these when I try ‘em, bugs and all…(all right, not really. I de-bugged them as completely as possible and removed them from their boxes altogether. And am keeping them rather far away from the puerh I got from Jing Teashop!)

Also coming in the near future–my first order from Jing Teashop, my current teaware collection, and a review of the shu puerh from the aforementioned order.