Da Hong Pao, or Big Red Robe

While in Florida my sister gave me a small bag of Da Hong Pao light roast oolong. It was a cloudless eighty degrees at the time of this transaction, but this morning here in Mass it's only four, or negative six if you go by the mysterious "feels like" scale.

My bedroom window looked like this.



The first thing I did was brew some Da Hong Pao.

My former roommate Mark once invited me to help him work his way through a mixed case of bottles of red as he tried to discover his favorite. They were all pretty good, but when he opened the Bordeaux, I thought "yes, that is red wine." It perfectly matched my preconceived notion of what red wine should taste like. (In contrast, my first taste of whiskey was a huge letdown. As a kid I concluded that it must taste like butterscotch based on the way adults talked about it, but when I tried it, it just tasted "like burning.")

This tea is to oolong what that Bordeaux was to wine: it tastes like what I think oolong should taste like. Roasted, toasted, slightly sweet and woodsy. Like licking a drop of caramel off of seasoned cordwood.

It has none of the complexity of peachy dan cong or the floral effervesence of my beloved tung ting, which could mean that it's a fake, but it's delicious either way, and for anyone unfamiliar with this kind of tea, this could be your oolong 101.

The name Big Red Robe is said to come from an incident in which a grateful emperor sent fine garments to protect bushes whose brew had healed him from an illness. I don't know if that actually happened, but I do know that when I drank the tea on this bitterly cold morning, I felt robed.

Thanks, sis.

Again, Silk Oolong Formosa

The last time I wrote about the silk oolong formosa I picked up at Red Blossom, I marveled at its milky quality despite the absence of actual milk. I was wrong. Vegans beware, this tea is not for you.

Some s.o.f. actually does contain dairy. Apparently a "milk oolong" can fall into one of two camps. The milk flavor can occur naturally, from a combination of the variety of tea, climate and conditions, or it can be literally infused with milk. Like from a cow, which is what gives Red Blossom's version its warm, caramel aroma and flavor.

I can't tell if that makes me like this tea more or less. It reminds me of my dad's search for the perfect stereo equipment. When surround sound debuted, he saw it as cheating, and wanted a pair of traditional speakers made so well that they could achieve a similar effect. He wanted naturally milk scented sound.

My hunch is that the milk-infused variety has taken the place of the more rare (and expensive) original, in much the same way that "liquid smoke"-infused lapsang souchong has largely replaced tea that has actually been cured over a fire.

Using milk instead of a balletic synthesis of natural elements does seem like cheating, and it is, but if it produces a better result that more people can enjoy, then why not? Because it also threatens a time honored tradition and the livelihood of those who practice it.

But do I enjoy my silky, milky tea? God, yes.

Formosa Mingjian Osmanthus Guihua Oolong

Unfortunately this tea wasn't as good as its name is long. However, the fault was probably my own.

The tea hails from Aura Teas, who being located north of the border are currently offering a Boxing Week sale. They suggest a one minute steep for the first flush, and since that's longer than I usually do, I put it out of my mind until twice that much time had passed. As a result the brew was dark and somewhat bitter, and subsequent ones were just the opposite: light in color and flavor. Again, my fault.

But what I really want to know is whether the tea actually contains osmanthus. I would think that it did, because it's a popular herb to blend with tea, yet the ingredients on the tin say "100% tea leaf." True, osmanthus is a type of tea in the generic sense of the word (as is peppermint), but I have a feeling they mean tea the tea made from tea. Also, one usually finds osmanthus in flower form, so it's unlikely that the "leaf" refers to it.

To confuse things further, teas are often named for stuff that they don't actually contain. For instance, Honey Orchid Gold Medalist #2 contains neither honey, orchids, gold medalists, nor "number two."

But I have a feeling that a tea wouldn't be named after something that is often found in tea. Therefore my conclusion is that the ingredients label on the tea is incomplete, but I'm not going to let that ruin Boxing Week.

My Mom Turns 6-Tea

It may come as no surprise that my mother is a tea drinker and my stepfather a punster. So when my mom turned sixty, she was thrown a "6-Tea" party. The task of selecting which six teas of course fell to me. So of course I called Dave.

Together we decided on Shou Mei Classic White, Green Dew Gunpowder, Chrysanthamum Oolong, Keemun (black), and a few cakes of Yunnan Compressed Pu-Erh Tuo Cha, all from Upton. To mix things up I included one herbal, brewed from the needles of a Florida Slash Pine and harvested a few blocks from the house.

We decided to demonstrate the camelia sinensis spectrum, going from white to black. In fact those were the two most commonly requested teas: Shou Mei and Keemun. I'm guessing that's because black and white tea are the most and least familiar, respectively.

I was more surprised by which teas where who's favorite. One of my mom's friends liked the pine best, and one of her friend's teenage daughters favorited the puehr. (And that was even after I described it as "cavey.")

As usual, my favorite was the oolong. The blend was so nicely done that you couldn't tell where tea stopped and flowers began. In other words, it was unlike many blends in that nothing stood out, the two elements being balanced in a compliment that went both ways. Yet it still tasted so much like oolong that I wouldn't have been shocked to learn that the chrysanthemum was just a colorful descriptor, as is often the case with oolongs anyway.

Here's a quick lowdown on everything else.

Shou Mei: pleasant, though extremely mild. There was a faint hint of citrus, but it may have been a trick of the mind as white teas are so commonly infused with citrus these days, probably to make them taste like something. Or maybe it was just because we were in Florida.

Green Dew Gunpowder: Good and aptly named, being as refreshing as green dew and as grounded as gunpowder. That doesn't actually make sense, but the tea was both light and earthy and that seemed like a convenient way to say so.

Keemun: I never drink black tea, but was surprised by how sharp and fresh this one tasted. It might make aficionados bristle to hear an adjective so commonly associated with the dregs of the industry, but it really was "brisk." (Note: if you go to one hyperlink today, go to that one.)

Pu-Erh Tuo Cha: Not as impressive as a puehr can be, but that wasn't the point. This was an easy intro for those who hadn't had a puehr before, which was everyone. Even though I brewed it lightly, many still wrinkled their noses and my mom described the bouqet as "fishy." Elise suggested the more palatable "marine."

In the end a good time was had by all, and everyone left much better equipped to think outside the bag.

Silk Oolong Formosa

The "oolong" refers to the variety. Formosa, the place of origin. But silk is what you feel wrapped in when you sip this divine brew.

I could have sworn that the folks at Red Blossom told me this tea was at some point infused with milk. However, my research tells me that its deep, caramel flavor is in fact a natural attribute of a rare, sudden shift in temperature during harvest. Either that or the result of a comet falling in love with the moon. Either way, it's delicious.

Some of my favorite teas are those which naturally mimic the flavors of other flora. Peach Dan Cong, for instance, has none of the fruit chunks that you might expect in something from Teavana, or in a bowl of potpourri (same difference). It's just camellia sinensis, but you can clearly identify the flavor of a peach, or more accurately, the flavor of the red, slightly astringent flesh close to a peach's pit.

Elise has always been a dyed in the wool black tea drinker. So much so that she'd actually rather just have coffee. Until now. This has been the only one of a parade of fancy teas I've made for my tolerant companion that really got her excited. But can you blame her? Just look at these gorgeous leaves.

Ginseng Oolong

Pictured above are the leaves of a ginseng oolong after one rinse and one brewing cycle. I was too eager to drink this tea to capture the leaf in its most recognizable form, which is dry. In that state, the shape of the rolled leaves combined with the dusting of powdered ginseng root give the tea a nuggety, Raisinet like appearance.

By now you may have noticed my disdain for flavored teas. It's proportional to my love of teas that magically happen to taste like other things, like Peachy Dan Cong (peaches), Gyokuro (roasted chicken), and Puehr (a cave). Deceptive flavors coaxed from nothing but camellia sinensis are still the most impressive to me, but there is a place for quality additions, both historically and as a matter of taste. This tea is such a one.

The slightly sweet, earthy flavor of the ginseng blends perfectly with the mineral and floral tones of the oolong. The two work together as in a dance, complimenting each other with neither taking the lead. Compare this to the modern flavored teas I so loathe. You'll find them increasingly at places like Teavanna, now in a mall near you, where you'll taste blends such as the "cookie-like" Almond Biscotti Black Tea.

The Best Cup of Tea I've Ever Had

I've enjoyed tea ever since I was old enough to be trusted with things that were hot. Still, it wasn't until Taiwanese Oolongs that I realized how truly magnificent a cup could be. When I drink my tung ting, I feel like a better person. It's not just the caffeine, of which there are only trace amounts by the time I'm on repeated brewings. It's the magic.

This cup was the best I've ever had for two reasons. First, the tea is nothing short of fabulous: floral, grassy, sweet. Second, it was my first cup after two weeks of heavy travel, during which time the only tea I drank was a noxious "white citrus" from Wild Oats that tasted as much like my steel travel mug as it did its own awful flavors. The best cup of my life: in a mason jar, on my lap, riding shotgun.

It set me up well for the deep fried lobster I did not yet know I was about to eat. Stay tuned.

1997 Honey Orchid

I got up late today, falling back to sleep around 6AM after a early morning airport drop-off. Unable to get right to work I decided to brew a Dan Cong sample and browse some blogs. I've been enjoying Imen's latest round of samples, but I haven't posted about them. This is mostly because I have run out of adjectives to describe the subtle differences between types of Dan Cong, though it is also partly because I've just been working a bunch.

Today's 10 year aged Dan Cong is worth special mention. The first infusion tasted highly roasted and subsequent infusions have slowly revealed the honey orchid flavor. The brilliant orange liquor captures both the tension and fusion of these two facets. I really am a sucker for this type of complexity. There is also a slight astringency that puckers up the lips.

Honey Orchid Gold Medalist

When I went home over Christmas, I didn't bring any Dan Cong and I was surprised how much I missed it. I had spent the days before the trip tasting several and gotten used to their strong and soothing flavors. Karen gave me some excellent Dan Cong for Christmas, and Imen included a few samples, so this is by no means my last Dang Cong post, but it does conclude the series that I started a few weeks ago. According to the description, the gold medalist honey orchid is harvested and processed one tree at a time. I'm not sure exactly what this does for a tea, but the thing that strikes me here is how clean the flavors are. This honey flavor isn't as rich as the other honey orchid, but its cleanliness allows me to focus on its subtleties. The honey flavor is accompanied by a juicy sweetness. The tea is undoubtedly strong, as the flavors have yet to subside over 5 infusions and it certainly can make being inside on a snowy day pleasant.

Ten Ren Oriental Beauty

As predicted, I couldn't resist plopping $5 down at the supermarket despite being burned in the past. Ten Ren Tea is ubiquitous, with stores in multiple states, malls, and continents, as well as a website that prominently features their business model. This made me pessimistic.

The tea itself is nice and honey-ish. It is not complex at all but it does have staying power. It can go strong through 6 or so infusions: not bad for a supermarket tea. Drinking decent Oriental Beauty is fun because it is a better version of so much bad tea that I've had in Chinese restaurants. Not too bad for a $5 investment.

Tea Travels

Well, I didn't get to the last Dan Cong before I left to visit my family until the 30th. I guess that the exciting conclusion of the Dan Cong series will have to wait until 2008.

The next week and a half should be fairly pleasant. My main tasks will be eating and reading novels. Of course, with so much time on my hands I want to enjoy some good tea. Before taking off I made a little travelling collection of odds and ends I've amassed. Maybe I'll post about some of them. Here is my stock: 1 raw pu-er tuo from the puerh shop, 1 small bag of 1999 Loose Ripe Pu-er from the puerh shop, part of a sample of a 2006 GuoyanZhang Lao Ban raw pu-er cake, Goomtee Indian Oolong , the rest of my Junshan Yinzhen Green, Supreme Jasmine Pearls from Imen, and some Moonlight White from Rishi. Whew.

Honey Orchid Dan Cong

The Dan Cong tasting continues, sorry for the delay.

I finally finished a draft of the paper that I griped about and a cup of tea was my reward. Honey is the dominant flavor and taste. It is thick and soothing. Floral, too: I assume that's the orchid though I can't pick out the flavor of orchids generally. I've infused this tea 5 times and it is still going, though the honey has gotten a little less pronounced. It will be interesting to compare this to the Gold Medalist Honey Orchid, my last Dan Cong. I recommend drinking this tea while your dog licks your feet.

Peach Dan Cong

I've spent much of today on the phone trying to get wood delivered before a foot of snow comes tomorrow. On my break from that I made sure to put in some time staring at my latest paper, not thinking clearly enough to make revisions. I just couldn't concentrate. After lunch and before wood stacking I brewed this organic Peach Dan Cong. As soon as I lifted the gaiwan lid the peach scent hit me. Keep in mind that this tea is not scented with peaches, mixed with peach peel, or anything like that. The leaves just naturally smell this way. Amazing. I was expecting to be overwhelmed by the peach flavor, but the tea has so much else going on: an excellent earthiness. The peach taste really is wonderful too. It reminds me of the part of a peach that is closest to the pit: more pungent and less sweet. After one cup of this I was feeling relaxed and more mentally sound. Now it is time to get back to wood stacking.

Yu Lan Xiang Magnolia Fragrance

Day one of a four day Phoenix Oolong event.

The White Leaf Dan Cong roasted at Tea Habitat was a pleasure to drink, though it was hardly subtle. This Yu Lan Xiang is obviously a more refined tea: it has a pronounced honey-like texture and the floral flavor sneaks up on you. Having never eaten a magnolia, or been sufficiently attentive to their smell, I can't say whether the floral flavor is clearly magnolia-ish. The flavor, though, is sort of soft. Much more like a discernible but distant flower smell than like rolling around in a patch. According to the description, Chinese women are known to use this as a perfume. If so, I bet it is fairly pleasant. Better than anything I've smelled from Karen's Vogue, anyway. So I can recognize the quality, this is surely an excellent tea. That said, it is not something I'd choose to drink all the time.

Lao Cong Shui Xian

My march through the bounty continues with Lao Cong Shui Xian, a Wuyi oolong. Wuyi oolongs come from the Fujian province and many are purported to come from hearty tea plants that grow between rocks in otherwise infertile conditions.

This tea stands in stark contrast to the White Leaf Dan Cong. That tea was peachy and sweet, this is rich and deep. Its flavor isn't easily explicable in non-tea terms, it simply tastes like oolong: smooth, a bit sweet, and lingering. Perfect for slow enjoyment in front of a winter fire. Then again, so many teas are.

White Leaf Dang Cong

My first oolong from the bounty is the White Leaf Dan Cong. I was especially excited to try it because it is roasted at Tea Habitat. I've never before heard of a store roasting its own tea. This is really cool. It makes me want to try and roast some tea at home. I can already roast vegetables pretty well.

The tea itself is really cool. The roasted flavor is very light and the sweet fruit flavor dominates: peach and honey. I would love to know what the unroasted tea tastes like and how this differs.

Pictured above is Phoenix Mountain in the Guangdong Province, where this tea originates. It is cool that the tea started its life there then went to the west coast for roasting and now the east coast for consumption. Unfortunately for the tea, its beginning was a little more picturesque than its ending.

Oolong Bounty

Getting a pair of packages upon my return brightened an otherwise stomach-bug blighted Thanksgiving holiday. One was a book I'd been looking forward to and the other was an Oolong bounty. Imen from Tea Obsession was kind enough to send me 10 samples, 8 of which are oolongs, from her store Tea Habitat. If you're ever near L.A. make sure to drop by. Posts are coming soon.

Jade Oolong

When I was buying a teapot from Rishi, I figured I'd get some tea too. I picked this Oolong slightly at random. The name is generic enough---it is clear that this is an oolong that tends towards green---but the website tells us a little more. This is a rolled Taiwanese oolong from Nantou. Googling Nantou yields pictures of green slopes and low-hung clouds. It is pleasant to think that my morning on the east coast has a dose of Tawianese atmosphere.

The leaves take a while to unfurl. The picture above was taken after the second infusion and you can see that they still have a way to go. The flavor is light and a little juicy, not nearly as interesting as the Tung Ting that I picked up in Paris, but highly enjoyable nonetheless.

Okayti Oolong 2007

India certainly isn't known for its oolongs, though this was an interesting tea. It it had many of the same flavors as the Doke Snow Bud that I reviewed earlier. The first time I brewed it I couldn't stop thinking about it. Strangely, though, I've had little desire to drink it for the last month or so. It became something of a chore so I'm glad that today I used the last of it. I'll be interested to compare it to the two other Indian oolongs I have waiting in the wings.

Tung Ting

"Tung Ting" means 12 trees, it is also the name of a mountain in the middle of Taiwan. This tea was another Paris purchase from La Route De The. There are two particularly interesting things about it. First, it changes around infusion 3 from a sweet fragrant tea to a more deeply flavored one. Second, it makes me thirsty.

Since it can last for 7 infusions or so I tend to brew it early in the morning and re-steep it as the days go on. It is kind of nice to have the company of a single tea as the day develops. Today, Twelve Trees took me all the way from sitting at my computer in the morning to sitting at my computer in the evening. We had quite a journey together.