Books. Tea. Cats. Scribbling.

Tag: sheng

A Sneak Peek at BitterLeaf Teas

A new tea vendor caught my eye a few months back. Their site was clean to look at, their teas were tempting to read about, and their aesthetic was absolutely gorgeous. BitterLeaf Teas certainly made a splash, what with their nature-themed tea names and clean lines. But since the Canadian dollar was going down the tubes, I watched (and thirsted) from afar.

Until about a month and a half ago, that is. That’s when they announced a flash sale to cap off a successful trip to various tea festivals across the West Coast and get rid of any remaining inventory they still had before returning to China. They offered cheaper shipping to boot — so of course I couldn’t resist.

I ended up buying two teas and got another three free samples included in my package! Even better, two of the samples are of teas that BitterLeaf hasn’t even started selling yet. So here’s a sneak peak of some teas that BitterLeaf is planning to offer in the near future. I feel like such an insider!

Ice Queen 2007 Bing Dao Raw Pu’erh

Of the three free samples BitterLeaf Teas sent, this is the one that they’re already selling on the site. Here’s how they describe it:

Our Ice Queen 2007 Spring Bing Dao Ancient Tree raw Puer is easily the crown jewel in our tea collection. This exceptionally smooth and drinkable tea has a strong taste of honey from the moment it hits your lips until well after you’ve finished drinking, not to mention an extremely sweet scent that remains in your cup.

BitterLeaf gave me a free 7-gram sample of this with my order, along with brewing instructions. I followed them as closely as I could, using 95°C water, a quick rinse, and then steeps ranging from 3 to 8 seconds. The dry leaf was brownish-green with a few golden tips, and didn’t give off much smell. Rinsed, though, it as a different story: the wet leaf gave off aromas of earth, grapes, tobacco and hay.


The first few steeps were pale and mild, but over time both the colour and the flavour deepened, going from grass and smoke to a tart sweetness like grapeskin and quince. (Quince! So astringent, but so satisfying to chew!) The first steep was a pale golden amber, but the following few steeps were a lovely deep amber with a green overcast — looking at my cup, I couldn’t help but think that I was about to drink some very fine, very rich olive oil.

However, it didn’t feel like olive oil in my mouth. Instead, it had a very clean feel on my tongue; not thin like water, but not thick like broth. “Lively” is the best word to describe it — like I was drinking something sparkling and vital.


As the steeps continued, the depth and rambunctiousness of the second, third, and fourth steeps gave way to something that was mellow and incredibly well-balanced: the tea grew earthy, tart, and astringent, but no single aspect dominated the others.

I eventually went through 10 steeps, and even after the 10th steep the tea was still a rich amber colour with flavours of sour grapes and grapeskin. I have no doubt I could have made the tea go beyond 10 steeps, but I really didn’t have the time or inclination to test that assumption. In the end, I was left with a lovely vessel full of olive and russet leaves.


You can buy Ice Queen 2007 Bing Dao tea here.

2007 Lao Ban Zhang Raw Pu’erh

This is where the sneak peek starts! Here’s what BitterLeaf Teas told me about this puppy:

We may list the LBZ [for sale on the site]. Not sure. We have various factory cakes sitting around aging at the moment. If it’s not that, there are other factory cakes that may be added. This will most likely happen along with our spring 2016 pressings.

They sent me a free 7.7 gram sample along with my order. This amount was too small to break down into two sets of leaf, but a bit bigger than what I normally brew at once; to compensate, I decided to take the whole thing and do really, really quick steeps to ensure it didn’t taste too strong and overwhelming. As with the Ice Queen tea above, I used 95C water.

The dry leaf was a compact chunk of dark brown and green, with no white leaf tips. However, the smell was very fruity. Because the chunk was so large, I did two quick rinses of 5 seconds each to try and soften it a bit and make it easier to steep.

BitterLeaf_Lao_Ban_Zhang_07_leafThe rinsed leaf smelled smoky, fruity, and sour. I could tell from the first steep onwards, though, that this thing had staying power, as I could sense a lot of flavour just beginning to wake up.

As with the Ice Queen tea, the subsequent steeps gave off a liquor that was amber with greenish overtones, so the whole cup looked like rich olive oil. From the third steep onwards, I got a note of fresh green wood, plus fruit. Slightly drying, but not harsh. As I continued through the first pot, I tasted notes of damp forest floor, honey, plums, and grapeskin; the texture was very smooth, but I noticed my mouth pucker over time.

After about 8 steeps, I started to feel some gauziness and astringency on my tongue, but the tea was still very smooth and clean. Then I started to feel a crinkly, drying sensation at the top of my throat leading down to my esophagus. Soon afterward the pot of water was empty; I stopped for the morning, went on some errands, and resolved to try a second pot of tea in the afternoon to see if it had staying power.


The second pot of water produced some really different results! At first, I was surprised by how bitter the steeps tasted, until my tongue acclimated to the tea again around the fifth steep from the second pot. This time around, after I got used to things, I noticed that the tea was really fruity, with stonefruit notes of apricot and nectarine making a big appearance. The liquid itself was still a rich amber.

However, over time, I could finally sense that the leaf was fading; a real, genuine note of olive bitterness joined the cup, and then the whole thing turned pale and mineral. I lost count of the steeps at this point, but I’d say that with 2 pots of water, I easily got 15-20 steeps out of this leaf!

The spent leaf was a dark green that reminded me of cooked spinach.

2014 YiWu Raw Pu’erh

Here’s what BitterLeaf Teas had to say about this one:

We’re 90% sure the Yiwu will be added to our lineup, but it will be the 2016 version. We’ve been drinking this farmer’s tea from the last 5-6 years and really enjoy them and how they progress, so we’re excited about that one.

Unfortunately, I don’t share their excitement. They gave me a whopping 14 grams to play with, and after doing a traditional session with 6 grams of leaf in my gaiwan, it didn’t really taste like anything. There was smokiness and sourness, but it felt like the bones of another tea — there was no unexpected note, nothing that gave the tea life.


I used the remaining 8 grams of leaf and brewed it using a regular tea mug, but that was similarly underwhelming: at most I got a sense of something sweet and a little sour, but it felt like an approximation towards tea, and not the real thing. Considering how much I enjoyed the other two teas mentioned above, this one was a real disappointment. It just didn’t have the richness, either in colour or in flavour, of its compatriots.


Wymm Tea Samples: Jingmai and Mahei Sheng Pu’erh

My first taste of Wymm Tea’s stuff was so good that when they had a sale in October for the Mid-Autumn Festival, I made an order. I got more of the Bingdao Laozhai Huangpian and the Mangnuo Tengtiao “Cane Tea” from last time, plus a bunch of samples. Today I’m going to look at 2 samples in particular.

Jingmai Sheng Pu-erh 2013

First up is this tea, which I purchased a single 6-gram sample of. Here’s what Wymm Tea has to say about it:

This is a sheng pu-erh that brews bright golden liquor with a heady orchid aroma, and can last for around 15 steeps. First spring leaves make the best-valued tea because of the concentrated nutrients, and the infused liquid emanates strongest aroma and flavour. Picked from the first spring of 2011, our Jingmai pu-erh possesses opulent aroma and intense flavour that is reminiscence of wilderness of Jingmai.

The dry tea leaf looks dark and spindly with the occasional silver tip; its smell was fairly neutral — sort of an earthy forest floor note. There was a bit of dust, but the wrapper kept it all contained.


I used my usual steeping parameters for this tea: 90°C water, my gaiwan, and a quick 5-second rinse to start things off. After the rinse, the tea gave off a really strong funky, fermented smell, followed by a fruity finish.

I didn’t time the steeps too much, but I tried to keep them under 10 seconds. The first steep resulted in a pale gold liquor that tasted smooth and mild with no astringency. The flavour hadn’t woken up yet, but I could taste minerals and pale wood, like birch. What’s really cool is that after the first steep — and throughout the rest of the tea session — the leaves themselves smelled like sultana raisins. Raisins! Hell yeah.

The second steep resulted in a cup of tea that was deep gold edging into amber. The flavours were still very mild, but stronger than the first steep; I tasted metal, earth, wood, and autumn leaves. There was a little bit  of astringency starting to peek through — on the back of my tongue I sensed a sharp aftertaste reminiscent of chewing on grapeskin.


The third steep was a deep goldenrod yellow. The wet leaf still smelled like raisins, and there was still a strong mineral/autumn leaf/wood note in the taste. However, I didn’t go much further beyond this point. I only did about 5-6 steeps in total because I was starting to get a headache. Still, the used leaf looked pretty nice in the gaiwan:


You can learn more about Wymm Tea’s Jingmai Sheng here.

Mahei Zhai Sheng 2011

I had the Mahei Zhai sheng later on in the day after my headache cleared up. The description below is from Wymm Tea again:

Handmade with tea leaves picked from Mahei village in the spring of 2011, this sheng pu-erh brews bright yellow liquor with a delicate taste and silky texture. The tea is full-bodied with minimal astringency and bitterness, and brings back a prolonged honey-like aftertaste.

I could tell the difference from the Jingmai sheng right away: while the dry leaf for that tea smelled like a forest, this one smelled intensely sweet. It also looked a lot different — the main chunk of leaf was a murky tangle of dark green and brown, like camouflage.


I used the same parameters for the Mahei sheng as I did the Jingmai sheng above, including giving the tea a 5-second rinse to wake it up. The rinsed leaf smelled creamy, sour, sweet and smoky — a combination of tobacco, prunes, and cheesecake that I found quite compelling.

The first and second steeps were similar in flavour and colour, with both being a pale gold. However, the second steep tasted more intense, with a smoky flavour that had a dry, sweet aftertaste similar to licorice. (That I kept on drinking this tea is amazing, because I absolutely hate licorice.)

The third steep was a rich golden colour and the brew smelled like tobacco. I liked this a lot, especially with the sweet aftertaste. The sweetness was dry and herbal, like stevia or dry wine, rather than being fruity, juicy, or honey-like.


The fourth, fifth and sixth steeps were similar: I got a deep golden brew, but the sweet flavour morphed to both metallic and fruity. I also noticed some nuttiness, like walnuts.

Where this tea really shines is in the mouthfeel, though. As I was drinking it, it felt like my mouth was full, like the tea was taking up more real estate than it had any right to. I could feel its warmth and lingering flavours inside my cheeks, on the sides of my tongue, and even on my hard palate. There was a roughness, too, to the tea in my mouth, like construction paper was sliding over my tongue.

The tea smoothed out by the sixth steep, but by then I had also started to notice a warm tickle at the back of my throat. I let the tea run its course over a few more steeps, but by then I was all tired and I could feel the liquid sloshing around in my belly. Not a bad way to end the evening!


You can learn more about Wymm Tea’s Mahei Zhai Sheng here.

White2Tea November 2015 Subscription Box: 2015 Pin Raw Pu’erh

Sometimes, you strike the jackpot. It felt like that earlier this month when I saw what was awaiting me inside the November 2015 White2Tea subscription box: a single cake of raw pu’erh that weighed 200 grams! Considering the price of a monthly box, this month’s selection was a bargain. And I’m always happy to get a bargain.

It’s even better when the bargain looks like a piece of Warholian art. Get a load of this wrapper! White2Tea has some of the most creative packaging in the business, and this beauty is no exception:


So, what was this month’s tea? The company is calling it “2015 Pin”. I know there’s a reason for it, based on an Anglicization of a certain character of Chinese script, but since I know little about the language, I’ll leave it at that. Here’s the full description from the White2Tea site, though:

The Pin is a blend of three years of high quality material (2013, 2014, and 2015) with Lincang character. The tea has a sweet flavor and a heavy fragrance. The texture of the soup is much smoother than our other 2015 productions due to the blended material from previous years, which was stored in Menghai prior to pressing. An excellent tea to drink now or save to drink several years down the line.

So, there are three pairs of Andy-Warhol-esque lips on the wrapper to represent the three different annual harvests of leaf that comprise the cake. Sounds straightforward enough. My cat Gracie remains unimpressed, however.


Gracie is unimpressed with my Andy Warhol tea. She’s more of a Jackson Pollock cat.

Too bad, Gracie! This tea is just begging to be opened up and tasted. And what a beauty it is once it’s unwrapped! The cake is a tightly compressed mass of dark green, with strands of silver, beige, khaki and white interspersed throughout. The dry leaf smells smoky and slightly fruity — pretty typical for a younger sheng.


I broke off 5.85 grams of dry leaf and gave the tea a quick rinse in 90°C water in my medium-sized gaiwan (about 130 mL). After the rinse, the smell of the leaf transformed from slightly smoky and fruity to intensely fermented — it was sour and reminded me of yogurt. I don’t mind this smell, but it was a surprise.

The first steep was very clear and had an amber tint to it like beer. The taste was refreshing: clear, smooth, with no sharpness or astringency. I noticed a slight bitter aftertaste.

The second steep was bitter and some smoke started to creep in. It’s possible I oversteeped this one, though, as I was slow to pour the liquid out of the gaiwan. Because of this, I noticed some astringency along with the bitterness. I took care during the third steep and was rewarded with liquid that was lighter in both colour and flavour – the bitterness hadn’t disappeared, but the fruitiness of the leaf came out to play. Despite the presence of fruit, though, the tea was still relatively herbal in flavour, with a bitter aftertaste.

The flavour stayed pretty consistent from here until the seventh steep. One thing I noticed about this tea is that its bitterness has a quality I feel on the middle and sides of my tongue, rather than the back of it. The mouthfeel and the flavour are both thin — this tea washes over my mouth smoothly, coats my tongue, and recedes quickly, leaving no trace. The colour lightened over time as well, becoming a pale gold rather than the amber it was at the beginning.


Things changed around the 8th steep, where I started to notice more fruitiness and a “sparkle” on my tongue. At this point, the liquid in my teapot had cooled by quite a bit, which makes me wonder whether it would be better to serve this tea at 85° or even 80°C, rather than the original temperature of 90°C. Subsequent western-style  brewing attempts hold true to this — the bitterness was more prominent at higher temperatures.

I still have a whole bunch of this tea left, so I’ll probably tinker with it more in the future. I also want to see how it tastes if I use less leaf (5 grams rather than ~6 grams).

You can learn more about the 2015 Pin cake from White2Tea here.

PS: Want another cat photo? Here you go.

Gracie is shocked, shocked I tell you, by the scandalous comic strips of Kate Beaton.

Gracie is shocked, shocked I tell you, by the fact that I’m reading some Kate Beaton.

Wymm Tea Sheng and Shou Samples

WYMM-tea-sample-set-DWymm Tea is a fairly new vendor in the tea game — as far as I’m aware, the company only started up in the last year or so. However, I’ve been hearing a lot of good buzz about them, and it’s great to find an online vendor of quality pu’erh based in Canada rather than the US or China. (My poor wallet, beaten by the current exchange rate, welcomes any chance to purchase from a domestic vendor.)

Wymm Tea sells a small, thoughtfully curated selection of teas, and they provide sample sets so you can try them out without committing to whole cakes. Awesome!

They sent me sample set D for free in exchange for a review. So let’s dive in!

Bingdao Laozhai Huangpian, 2014

Handmade with tea leaves picked from Bingdao Laozhai in 2014, this sheng pu-erh brews a bright golden liquor. It has notes of cut hay and earth in its aroma, complimented with almond and buttery flavours.

These huangpian are picked from the same ancient trees as the standard pu-erh from Bingdao Laozhai, the only difference being that it is less aesthetically pleasing; the bigger leaves (huangpian) are filtered out so that the remaining leaves are neat and symmetrical when pressed into cakes. These bigger leaves are often kept by the tea farmers for personal consumption and are rarely found in the market. Even though huangpian does not have the tidy appearance of its counterparts, it possesses similar taste characteristics and is sometimes considered more flavourful as the leaves spent longer period of time growing on the trees.

This tea was the first one I tried out of the sample set, and it really took me by surprise. Some of the leaves were large and feathery, but there were also a lot of smaller, broken up ones, with quite a bit of dust as well. I’m going to blame that on it being handled in the mail.


I used the whole sample (6 grams) in my gaiwan with 90°C water. After a quick rinse, I managed to get 10 steeps, with steep times starting at 5 seconds and gradually increasing to 30 seconds. The dry leaf had that typical sheng smell: smoky, a little tart and funky, kinda fruity. However, after the rinse, the smell changed a lot.

Believe it or not, the wet leaf before the first steep smelled like cooked spinach and feta cheese. Spanakopita tea!

The first steep tasted and smelled strongly of cooked spinach — green, vegetal, and slightly metallic. It also smelled slightly fishy, but not fishy enough to put me off drinking. It was fairly mild-tasting, though, with a lovely medium-amber colour that was like honey or brandy.

The second steep was slightly stronger, with a deeper colour and more intense flavour. As the steeps progressed, the intensity of the cooked spinach flavour gave way to a huge variety of flavours, all centering on savoury and slightly astringent. I remember tasting freshly ground pepper, tobacco, stonefruit, iron, copper, camphor, and menthol in various stages of my tea session.

Steeps 3-6 were the strongest with the most intense metallic flavour, while the flavour and colour dropped off considerably around steeps 8-9. After the fourth steep or so I started to notice a tingling at the back of my throat and down my esophagus, which is what made me think of camphor/menthol: it reminded me of having a cold, a bit. The spent leaves were huge and smelled faintly of fruit and ferment; they were a lovely olive green.

This tea was unusual because of the strong metallic flavour and also because I didn’t detect any bitterness.

Plus, after I drank it, I felt kind of sleepy and loopy, rather than feeling all hopped up on caffeine. As I sipped and slurped, I found myself making jokes while recording my notes, riffing off of the Beatles, Anchorman, whatever. Heh. Is this what being “tea drunk” is like?

Mangnuo Tengtiao “Cane Tea”, 2014 First Spring

This is WYMM’s signature tea. Handmade with premium first flush of 2014 spring from Mangnuo village, this sheng pu-erh brews bright golden with a vegetal, minty and honey flavour, and with the aroma of fresh mown grass in the morning. The tea is filled with powerful and masculine chaqi. There is a pronounced bitter taste that lingers in back of the tongue with hints of astringency in the initial steeps, which are slowly replaced with a bold honey aftertaste. The liquor is heady because of the ultra concentrated nutrients in this tea. Each serving of this tea can last up to 20 steeps.

I was really looking forward to this since it promised to be an intense experience. 20 steeps? Incredible! Unfortunately, I didn’t make it quite to 20, but I did manage to get at least 14-15 or so in there. I took a break a few hours in the middle of it all so that I could give my poor stomach and kidneys a rest, but by god, I did it!

The dry leaf of this was tightly packed, thin, and spindly, and the colour was dark green with white flecks. I put the entire sample (6 grams) in a gaiwan and gave the leaves a quick rinse before settling down into the first set of steeps. I kept the first 7 steeps fairly short, ranging from 5 to 12 seconds in 90°C water.

The first steep didn’t taste like much, but the flavour really opened up in the second and third steeps. I tasted grass and apricots, and the brewed tea was a pale amber colour. The aftertaste was long, lingering, clean and grassy — this tasted an awful lot like a green tea that had been suddenly transformed into a sheng. A few steeps in I started to notice some bitterness and astringency, but despite this, the tea was incredibly light and fruity, with a thick and nearly syrupy mouthfeel.

The first seven steeps done, I did some housework — laundry, cooking, you know, the sort of stuff that you need to do to be a functioning adult. It was way too hot the day I drank this to go outside for a walk, though.

When I got back to this tea afterwards, I brewed up a fresh pot of water, gave it a quick rinse to get the leaves warm again, and went to town. However, this second session was much bitterer to start with. Had the tea originally tasted this bitter? I didn’t think so. After a few steeps the bitterness toned down and the fruitiness returned, but I don’t know whether it was the tea that changed, or whether I did.

It got lighter over time, turning a pale yellow instead of golden, but there was still a subtle fruity flavour into the final steep. The leaves themselves smelled lovely – tart, tangy, and floral. By the end, they had greatly expanded in size and were a lovely mix of russet and olive.

Note: It took me a few days to write this post, and considering I spent a good portion of that time mentally revisiting this tea and thinking man, that tasted good, I’m confident in saying that this was a winner. The combination of bitterness and fruitiness in this was really memorable.

Menghai Wangshuji Shou in Seventh Grade, 2008

Full tea leaves from high mountains in Menghai county, located in west of Xishuangbanna Dai autonomous prefecture in Yunnan province, are picked to make the tea in 2008. Pu-erh tea has the potential to ferment over time, and this tea has been post-fermented for 6 years since production. Post-fermentation gives the tea vibrant flavours and richer aroma as well as deep wine colour. This shou pu-erh brews with a rich and honey flavor and long-lasting jasmine rice aroma.

When it comes to pu’erh tea, I’m a novice, and when it comes to shou, or ripened pu’erh, that’s even more so. I think I’ve only had shou once or twice before this, but this tea was an experience. For one, the leaves were thick, twisted black nuggets, with a slight gloss to them like tar. Because I’m not very familiar with the correct way to steep shou, I used freshly boiled water, and stuck to steeping times similar to a sheng — a quick rinse, then steeps of roughly 5 seconds.

The dry tea was somewhat glossy and dark, and the smell was fairly neutral — leather and earth, which is something I think is pretty common to shou teas. Once I rinsed it, it smelled like shoes, leather, dirt, and loam, with perhaps a bit of camphor. It reminded me of a root cellar, actually.

The brewed tea was dark. Like really rich, homemade beef broth. It had a slightly fishy, earthy, mushroom-y smell, and I was worried I should have rinsed it twice, but oh well — down the hatch it goes! The first steep tasted uninspiring and muddy, but the second steep developed a menthol/camphor note. That note developed and reminded me also wood, branches, autumn leaves, and cedar. And, oh yeah, this shit was dark. Almost like Guinness beer!

As I drank the third steep I noticed a cottony, gauzy feeling on my tongue. The fourth steep introduced mineral notes, but the initial fishiness was still there. Steeps 5 and 6 were fairly similar, though at the 6th steep I bumped the steep time up to 10 seconds. I noticed that as the steeps progressed, it tasted less of loam/earth and more of wood/cedar. By steep 7, my body became really heavy. I think I stopped after the 7th steep because I was so sleepy!

But yeah, based on what I’ve read of shou pu’erh, this was a pretty representative sample: rich, dark, earthy, an acquired taste. And I’m pretty sure it knocked me out!

Dong Banshan, 2014 Spring

Handmade with tea leaves picked from Dong Banshan in the fall of 2014, this sheng pu-erh has a high floral fragrance similar to that of jasmine flowers, with fairly subtle intricacies in its taste. It is most represented by its initial vegetal taste, which soon transfers to a honey flavour. It is a sheng pu-erh that can be easily enjoyed on a daily basis.

The dry and wet leaves for this tea smelled really sweet and fruity, like fresh apricots. By this point, I had settled on parameters of 90C water with a quick rinse and a first steep of 5 seconds. The first steep was almost completely clear and without scent, but the flavour was slightly sweet, with no bitterness or astringency.

The flavour of the first few steeps was mild — I can see this being a really good tea for a beginning drinker, someone who’s never tried pu’erh before. The first few steeps smelled peachy, apricot-y, and grassy, like a summer morning!  This tea had a great mouthfeel, too; it was thin but full in my mouth like wine.

By the fourth steep, the leaves must have really opened up because the colour of the tea darkened to amber. The flavour was still really fruity though, with grape added to the peach/apricot from before. This was also the first steep that tasted bitter. The bitterness was a smothering sensation rather than a sharp one, though.

By the fifth steep, astringency showed up along with the bitterness, and I also started to feel a tickle at the back of my throat. My mouth felt like I had bitten into a really underripe fruit. The next few steeps were more bitter than fruity, though, with fruitiness on the front of the sip and bitterness in the back — quite similar to the Mangnuo Tengtiao above, actually. (Though honestly I like the Mangnuo one better because overall, it felt juicier and less astringent.)

As I continued to drink, the puckery astringency continued, and the apricot/peach flavour receded. The dryness in my throat stayed, though. However, at the 11th steep, the flavour became very mineral. By this point, my belly was full of tea but I wanted to finish off the pot, so I stopped sipping and started chugging. Luckily, the leaf was starting to wear out (and so did the bitterness) so it was easy to drink.

Unbelievably, I got a monster FIFTEEN steeps out of this tea. I’m sure that that number would have been consistent across all four samples if I had been willing to push things so far. On the final steeps, there was a nice juicy, fresh aftertaste like watermelon rinds. Interesting!


All four of these teas were lovely — Wymm Tea, thank you so much for the samples! I would seriously consider adding the first two teas I sampled to my permanent collection (once I  make room, of course). I am so happy with the chance to try all of these teas, and I love that there’s a Canadian vendor out there selling high-quality pu’erhs.

Fengqing Ancient Tree Spring Chun Jian Raw Pu-erh Cake Tea 2012

Tea Review: Fengqing Ancient Tree Spring Chun Jian Raw Pu-erh Cake Tea 2012 from Teavivre

About This Tea

Fengqing Ancient Tree Spring Chun Jian Raw Pu-erh Cake Tea 2012Tea type: Raw (sheng) pu’erh, loose-leaf, broken off from a pu’erh cake

How I got it: This tea was provided to me for free from Teavivre in exchange for a review.

How you can get it: Fengqing Ancient Tree Spring Chun Jian Raw Pu-erh Cake Tea 2012 is available online from Teavivre.

Tea description from Teavivre’s website:

Combining the features of both Ming Qian and Yu Qian, with the excellent skills of tea makers, this Ancient Chun Jian Raw Puerh has an even shape, strong aroma and bright yellowish green color. It tastes soft of first sip. The flavor after is light bitter. Then it comes the sweet aftertaste after the swallowing of the liquid, which will stay in your mouth for a long time

How I Brewed It

Fengqing Ancient Tree Spring Chun Jian Raw dry leaf in gaiwanTeavivre delivers their samples in small foil packets. I took the entire contents of one packet of Fengqing Ancient Tree Spring Chun Jian Raw Pu-erh — about 10 grams — and poured it into a gaiwan. The dry leaf smelled smoky, leathery, mineral, and even slightly yeasty and tart like bread. The leaves themselves were dark and spindly, with flecks of gold and brown among the leathery black.

I brewed the tea using ~100°C water poured into a giant teapot — enough to make about a dozen steeps. The dry tea itself nearly filled the gaiwan halfway! I compensated by starting off with really short initial steeps. I gave the dried tea two short rinses and a rest of about 5 minutes to wake up. Then I gave the tea successive steeps of 10/10/12/10/12 seconds.

How Does It Taste?

Fengqing Ancient Tree Spring Chun Jian Raw brewed teaThe first steep of Fengqing Ancient Tree Spring Chun Jian Raw Pu-erh is a very clear, light orange-brown with no cloudiness. The tea itself is thin in my mouth and coats my tongue with bitterness at first. The aftertaste is also somewhat bitter, though I sense that the tea will change character over the next few steeps and become fuller and sweeter.

The second steep is still clear but is a slightly darker brown. It’s slightly more bitter than the first steep, and I’m also beginning to notice some astringency crinkling my tongue.

The third steep and fourth steeps are still bitter. I’m guessing I used too much leaf, but other reviews I had read of this tea said they used the same amount, so I’m not sure what’s going on. The bitterness is somewhat tart and smoky as well.

And now I’m getting a bit of a stomachache and maybe even some heartburn. Yippee.

The fifth steep is starting to lighten up somewhat, but by this point I’m just going to accept that I botched the preparation by using a whole sample packet. I probably would have done much better with 5 grams in the gaiwan rather than 10. On the plus side, the leaves have really started to expand and become a deep olive green colour.

Fengqing Ancient Tree Spring Chun Jian Raw wet leaf in gaiwan

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén