A Tea Addict's Journal

Entries tagged as ‘aged puerh’

On contradictions among Tea People

May 19, 2008 · 7 Comments

I remember when I was a kid, puerh was some nasty, bitter stuff that nobody sane should drink. Going to eat dim sum and having puerh…. I’d skip the puerh and just eat the dim sum.

Now, of course, things have changed, and puerh is no longer so bitter. I had some traditionally stored stuff from Hong Kong today, and it was smooth, sweet, and quite good for an afternoon (and evening) of tea.

Very often such teas are described as musty, but I tend to think that the properly aged ones, especially if given suitable time in a dry environment, should not be musty at all. Earthy, of course, but not musty. It is often difficult to resist the temptation to drink such things right away when one has acquired them, because, well, they are purchased with money and nobody really wants to sit on things they bought and not touch them. Yet, I think sometimes anyway, such things should indeed be left alone even after purchase. The tea I had today was, I think, more musty when I first got it — coming straight out of a very traditional storage condition where the teas had plenty of time to rot. Two years later, drinking it now, I think it is much better — smoother without the strong storage taste. Traditionally stored taste will never leave the tea, but smooth, aged puerh taste doesn’t have to be musty.

That, in fact, is what I worry about when I read pages after pages of talk, both in English and Chinese, about how traditional storage is no good and how one can’t stand such musty taste (very common among Chinese drinkers from drier climes, such as Beijing and Kunming) and how teas must be “clean”. When given a truly old tea, traditionally stored, to drink, they often think it is cooked. Therein lies the irony — cooked tea was, in many ways, an attempt by man to approximate the taste of aged puerh. Yet, now, aged puerh is mistaken as cooked.

The other more obvious irony is, of course, how cooked tea is just as, if not more, unsanitary as traditionally stored tea, especially if it’s coming from a smaller factory with unknown procedures for doing these things. I was just talking with my friend L from Beijing today, and he said after his visit to a puerh factory’s cooked tea section, he will never ever drink a small factory cooked cake again — it’s just too disgusting. Yet, out of sight and out of mind, I never hear any of these tea drinkers who demand “clean” tea telling me that cooked tea is dirty. Instead, cooked tea is wonderful — rich, smooth, good for your stomach — everything a raw tea is not (and there’s really no need for me to go through the usual arguments for raw tea, is there?).

The usual retort from those who don’t subscribe to such heretical views that traditionally stored tea is bad is that they are usually espoused by people who don’t own any old, traditionally stored teas. If you only sell cakes that are 5 years old or less, all stored in a dry climate, then why would you promote a tea that you don’t have access to and that can’t be produced in your location? Indeed, it’s like a longjing seller telling you that longjing is really not that good — you should drink sencha instead. Doesn’t happen. Of course, the same people who criticize are also the ones who do the exact opposite — dry stored teas or young teas, so I have been told, are no good. They are bad for your body (that’s actually true), and they taste awful (taste depends on individuals, as everybody discovers at some point). Therefore, only what they have is good.

While it is not as common in the online world, but I know some cases of “tea master”s out there who have, over time, changed positions on a number of things that they used to hold true. A case I’ve heard was actually regarding storage of oolongs — first, tea master said, only high fired oolongs can be stored. Then, after a while, tea master said low fired oolongs can also be stored. The person who told me about this noted that the change in position somehow coincided with a change in the composition of the oolongs on sale at said tea master’s store. You probably don’t need me to tell you how the composition of the teas on sale changed.

I know I often seem (ok, am) quite skeptical with any sort of claims made by almost anybody regarding tea. I do have long held beliefs, but am not completely closed to changing of my mind given enough evidence. I do think, however, that it is very easy, especially when one’s source of information is only the internet, to buy too much into one side of the story without hearing another, or to treat information given by some authoritative individuals as somehow better, especially if said individual happens to sell some teas that fit right into the description of whatever is being taught. I remember being trapped that way before, and perhaps it is a case of once bitten, twice shy. I’m not saying the internet is full of snakes, but snakes can come in all forms — sometimes involuntary ones who are merely passing on bad information from others. Challenges to claims being made is generally a good thing — after all, that’s how we advance our knowledge on any given subject. If I ever make grandiose claims you think is hot air, please let me know. It’ll help keep me honest.

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Growing out of a tea

May 3, 2008 · 5 Comments

It’s a little bit sad when you realize you’ve outgrown a tea — that it’s no longer good, even though once upon a time, you thought it was a nice tea.

I remember I used to really like this stuff

It’s some supposedly 30 years old loose puerh from Best Tea house in Hong Kong. I remember the first time I bought my 150g of it, I went through it probably in two months. The second time I bought it, it took longer. I still have the third one, and it’s been around for two years. I’m not even halfway through it.

Drinking it again today, I think now I’m quite sure this is a Vietnamese tea, not Yunnan, or at least it’s a blend of the two. There’s that distinctive Vietnamese sort of taste to it. It’s really not very good, when it comes down to it. Sure, if you need something aged and don’t want a cooked tea, this will do. And it does that fairly well, despite the fact that I don’t like it so much anymore. It’s not horrible. It’s not bad in any real sense of the word. I just don’t really enjoy it as much anymore.

The biggest problem is that this tea isn’t very cheap. When you compare it with stuff that you can buy in Hong Kong for maybe a quarter of the price, one wonders if it’s worth bothering. The tea is dry-ish stored. I don’t think I’ll be buying my fourth pack.

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How to wrap a tea cake

April 20, 2008 · 10 Comments

Ok, this is by no means professional or anything, but I tried.

I guess this is self-explanatory enough. One thing I didn’t mention is that you need to make sure when you are doing the little folds, you’re doing them tightly so that they pull in all the excess paper, but not so tight that you tear the paper. Some wrappers are especially fragile and easy to tear.

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1999 Menghai Yiwu wild tea

March 16, 2008 · 2 Comments

Dredging up more old samples, only this one’s even older.

According to the envelope in which it came, it is a 1999 Menghai Yiwu wild tea, from Hou De via Davelcorp. This is, if I remember correctly, one of the very first samples I received after I started the blog, which would mean that it has been sitting in my pile of stuff for about two years. The leaves smell slightly musty, but not too much.

It brews a brownish colour, normal given the age and I think storage conditions, which I would consider “normal” storage — not too wet, not too dry. The taste fits the colour and age as well — sweet, mellow, a bit of bitterness, but none too overpowering. In fact, I’d describe the tea in general as rather mellow and subdued. It’s not something that would wow you, nor is it a tea that will hit you over the head with an overpowering bitterness, strength, or anything. Rather, it delivers a steady, if slightly boring, taste that suits its current, slightly awkward age.

I do think the tea can use some more time before being consumed. Right now there is just a hint of that aged goodness that is coming through, but it’s not there yet. At the same time though, I do wonder about those wild tree claims. The tea doesn’t linger in the mouth much — aftertaste is slight. Much of the action happens on the tongue and remains there. That, from what I understand anyway, is more a sign that it is plantation tea than anything else. The wet leaves don’t tell much, apart from the fact that things are a bit broken and some leaves are paper thin. Menghai never really produced stuff that look great when wet though, so it doesn’t say much.

Then again, I think two years ago when this thing was still on sale at Hou De, prices were not outrageous. It’s long gone, of course, and it seems that Hou De no longer stocks anything of this sort, preferring instead to deal in high priced current-year puerh in fancy packaging, or older teas that have been heavily advertised (and thus carry a huge premium in many cases). There are, I think, still gems out there to be had that don’t demand an arm or a leg in return, but those teas, it seems, are hard to find in the online shopping mall for tea.

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Zhongcha orange in orange

February 28, 2008 · Leave a Comment

I rearranged my tea closet yesterday, which helped me fully appreciate how much tea I am actually sitting on, and while doing it, dug up a lot of old samples that are slowly aging in their respective little bags.

Since there’s precious little point in keeping those around, I decided to start — or at least attempt — to eliminate some of them by, well, drinking them.

The first victim is the Orange in Orange Zhongcha sample from Hou De, which is, I believe, sold out long ago. The tea is from 1996, supposedly, and I’m sure if you dig far enough in this blog, you can find my last review of it.

The tea smells almost liked a cooked puerh, oddly enough

And the smell sort of persists into the first cup

(Both of these cups, btw, are new acquisitions from Japan, along with the new tetsubin and a few other things — such as the bamboo tea spoon… although strictly speaking they are both intended to be used for sake, but I don’t care for such details)

The tea is…. quite unremarkable. It’s a bit cooked like at first, even though it is raw — wet storage can do that to you, but somehow for this particular tea, it’s a little more pronounced than usual. The tea switches into its “raw” mode after maybe 5-6 infusions, tasting greener and lighter, which, often enough, is the better part of a wet stored puerh. It’s not that interesting per se, but it’s not too bad either, and I’m sure back in the day when a sample means 2oz of tea, the price was sufficiently low to justify the purchase of many such cakes. Now…. I wonder if Hou De would even bother to list anything under $400 for somethig that’s about ten years old.

The wet leaves are, by and large, small and a bit broken. Clear signs of wet storage exist, but nothing so serious to have those carbonized leaves. Maybe wait another five or ten years and this tea should be pretty good, but these days, I begin to wonder if I will ever be patient enough to see my teas through decades of aging. If a tea that’s ten years old tastes only so so…. I don’t want to think about the implications.

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Aged maocha

February 13, 2008 · Leave a Comment

I was thinking of drinking my biyuzhu today while rummaging through my tea closet, and I thought I found what I wanted. Out came the bag…. and lo and behold, it’s the wrong tea (in a similar looking bag). Ooops, but it will do. I got the aged maocha I bought from Taiwan instead.

It was expensive, too expensive for what it is, but I think it’s a good example of regularly (but not bone dry) stored maocha. No wet storage. It’s allegedly around 12 years old. I can believe that.

The tea is, I think, currently in transition into the kind of flavour that you will think of more as aged puerh. Drier stored teas though will exhibit signs of youth after a few infusions. So you will first get a more aged taste, but it sort of reverts back to a greener profile. Overall, the stuff tends to be perfumy, just like a dry stored aged oolong – somehow the fragrance gets accentuated through age. I wonder why?

The leaves are sort of brown — but in a good way, and there are still some greener ones among them.

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How times change

February 10, 2008 · Leave a Comment

(As I was about to post this blog post last night…. strong winds knocked out the power lines!)

I remember I used to like this tea quite a bit

This is the supposed 30 years old puerh from Best Tea House. I remember I liked it, thinking it both rather reasonable in price and decent in taste. Yet, today, when I tried it again after not having touch it in probably more than a year, it doesn’t seem so good anymore. It might be Vietnamese tea, first of all, with that signature taste. It’s a bit lacking in sweetness and depth. It doesn’t really go to your throat very much. Etc

Mind you, it’s not horrible. It’s still, I think, a pretty ok tea, but it doesn’t do it for me anymore. Maybe my tastes have changed, and hopefully not too much for the better (that’ll make buying tea harder and harder). I suppose increased experience means that you notice more and more things that you didn’t before. Drinking this today, I definitely felt how I have changed as a tea drinker. Maybe it’s a blessing, maybe it’s just a curse….

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The value of a cheap tea

February 2, 2008 · Leave a Comment

From time to time I drink something that is truly pedestrian, or even sub-pedestrian. It sets you straight.

Today is one such day, with a loose, wet stored raw puerh in my pot. It’s still got some bitterness in it, despite its storage condition. The thing was quite cheap when I bought it in Hong Kong, and to me, the incremental benefit of drinking good 10 years old raw from a cake, which will cost many times the price of this tea, does not make the compressed stuff worthwhile. It’s the market forces at play here — whereas compressed tea have a clear provenance and history to go by, loose stuff that have no packaging of any kind simply cannot command high prices in a place like Hong Kong, where this sort of tea is everywhere.

Yet, when you take such things to, say, parts of China where they don’t have much old tea to begin with, all of a sudden the value of it shoots up. Instead of just “random wet stored loose tea” it suddenly becomes “preciously stored aged sheng puerh” with a price tag to match.

Then you have the polar opposite…. I remember bringing some old puerh to a shop in Beijing, only to have it mistaken as cooked puerh, because, well, they’ve never had anything older than maybe 10 years that’s not stored in the bone-dry weather of Beijing. They thought my tea was fake.

Which once again goes to prove that one should only “drink what you like, like what you drink”, and not worry too much about price, hype, or any of those things.

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Nor Sun Puerh

January 21, 2008 · 7 Comments

I saw this in a Chinese market yesterday. I actually opened the can to look, and thought it smelled traditionally stored. Couldn’t resist

The leaves look nondescript — traditionally stored, for sure (from the smell). Nannuo (that’s what Nan Nor is)? Who knows. But who can say no to something that can be used as a disinfectant for internal use?

When I brewed it, it’s obvious that there’s some cooked leaves in this mix

The taste is… interesting. It’s actually, for what it’s worth, not that bad at all. It’s cooked, sure, but it’s traditionally stored cooked, and traditionally stored cooked, IMHO, is better than non traditionally-stored cooked. The taste is richer, and it removes almost all traces of the nasty pondy smell/taste that you normally get in a cooked puerh. The tea is actually decent, which surprised me. I wonder how people who don’t know much about tea think about this?

As I examined the wet leaves, I realized that this is actually a blend of raw and cooked leaves.

The greenish leaves are such that they can’t possibly be cooked… I just don’t see it happening. My guess is these could be broken cakes, or at least some are broken cakes, that were thoroughly mixed in and blended together for export. The tea comes from a Hong Kong company with a Hong Kong address in the section where a lot of these old wholesalers are, so I am guessing this is just one of those traditional upstairs tea merchants who are packaging this. Pretty interesting, I must say, and quite a surprise to find ok puerh in Columbus OH in a tin can.

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Twin flowers

January 2, 2008 · Leave a Comment

Yesterday was New Year’s, so I figured it’s an excuse to drink something nice.

So I pulled out this little container with about 2-3g of tea in it. It’s from my last visit to Wisteria with Aaron Fisher, when we met with a documentary producer. There, you have to order tea based on the amount of people you have in your party, so for the four of us, we have to order a medium sized pot of stuff. However, we used one of Zhou Yu’s antique pots — the one that Aaron said is the best for puerh. It was too small though, so we didn’t use all of the tea, and this is the leftover — and they let me take it home.

So what is this? This is what is called Shuang Hua, or Twin Flowers, supposedly a Yiwu from the 1930s. This isn’t nearly as famous as Tongqing, Tongxing, or some of the other antique teas, but still, it’s old. One advantage of it being not as famous is that it’s cheaper, but still by no means an afforadable everyday tea, unless your budget is huge.

I put it in my much inferior puerh pot and made tea

Older puerhs tend not to have a long lasting intense colour. This seems to be true from Red Label onwards — the colour fades very quickly, although flavour stays even when a cup of tea looks very weak. This tea is extremely mellow, with a soft aged puerh taste, turning into a mushroomy brew that is reminicent of water you use to soak mushrooms before you cook them. The qi is obviously there, but it’s very subdued and isn’t overpowering. I think drinking this you can see how it is an inferior tea compared with some of the more famous brands from that era.

The wet leaves are quite broken, and pretty unremarkable. I know if I bring something like this to, say, Beijing, they’ll think this is cooked puerh. Oh, the joy.

Here’s to a great year, in tea and everything else

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