TeaSpring

I think this is a tasty Keemun (although none can surpass A&D’s Jackee Muntz, in my eyes!!).

It’s woodsy and slightly charcoal-y. A bit of bitter dark cocoa. Very energizing.

The scent is sweetish and earthy—like figs. But it doesn’t taste sweet.

A good, dependable Keemun—but, for some reason, there’s no “wow” factor for me with this right now.

Hmmm, not much peach or flowers or sweetness or anything much. I’m just getting very astringent, bitter tea. Must be my brewing. Kind of sad about this tasting. The leaves are huge and pretty, though. Like autumn.

I mistakenly deleted my original tasting note from a few days ago! So this is a repost of it:

This is most definitely a flavored tea.

From the freshly opened packet, the scent is like creme brulee.
Steeped, it’s more leafy clotted cream—with a tad of buttered popcorn.
The taste is very milky and fresh. And like most all the oolong I’ve tried, has a pronounced “steamed rice in banana leaves” essence to it.

This a very delicate, creamy, milky flavored tea. I love it!

By the way, I think I used a lot of leaf for my 12 oz. cylindrical tea mug—I used enough dry leaf to cover the bottom of the mug. I think that was a lot because they eventually blossomed to fill almost 3/4 of the mug! And I used boiling water. The flavor was very detectable this way.

P.S. My packet was purchased on March 2010. But, I’ve read on Teaspring’s website that since September 2010, this tea is no longer flavored but “fully natural”. I hope the new version is just as good!

I have not done much with green teas, in particular high quality green teas like this one. It was not like I envisioned. The first few infusions were very sweet tasting. The liquor was overall very delicate and light in flavor. I used a porcelain gaiwan and enjoyed many infusions. The sweetness dissipated in the latter infusions and was replaced by a light tanginess. I may lack the vocabulary to describe some of my tea experiences, and since this tea is quite different from what I normally drink, this note may suffer for it. As for the aroma, the best way I can describe it is hay. It was decidedly not floral to my nose. Not until the later steepings did I detect anything floral from the infused leaves.

This is my first impression of my first ever silver needle. I enjoyed the aroma of the infused leaf, in which I detected a hint of pine. The tea was good for several steepings in a porcelain gaiwan. I detected a slight grassiness (not unpleasant) in the first few steepings. Thereafter, the natural sweetness became more pronounced and the pleasant aftertaste more pronounced.

To make it simple: Excellent tasting high grade mao feng.

Right after receiving the shipment of the fresh tea, I boiled some water, poured 0,5 dl or so to my 2 dl gaiwan, waited for a moment for the temperature to settle between the water and the vessel, added a spoonful of tea which is probably about 2 grams, poured some hot water, around 90°C at this time I suppose, and infused for a minute or maybe a bit more. Result: sweet nectar, rich but balanced flavour. I even got some hui gan from the one cup despite of eating breakfast on top.

Already at this point I can say this is bound to be one of the top teas of this spring.

My batch of Gan Lu was supplied by purveyors of fine tea Canton Tea and the tea didn’t disappoint it is best brewed at 75 degrees centigrade and I have found that this brings out a gentle floral note.
It is a lovely light refreshing tea and benefits from a steeping time of 3 mins.
It has not got the astringent after taste associated with other green teas.
I would recommend this tea, it’s floral notes which can only be appreciated like many green teas at the right temperature to bring out the true qualities of this lovely tea.

Thanks to the Steepster TTB, I’m sampling this interesting tea today. TeaSpring sells this as a pricey loose-leaf puerh tea. My (other) Ya Bao leaves from Norbu Tea are sold as a moderately priced wild-type white tea. I think the leaf, as picked, is the same for both: the growing tips of a wild-type varietal (or wild arbor) of tea plant which were picked in the early Spring season. The difference is that these Ya Bao leaves from TeaSpring have been fermented in the manner of puerh mao cha. The mao cha are the “makings” of puerh tea … they’re piled up and allowed to age in a controlled amount of humidity. Later, this mao cha may be blended with other mao cha and made into a pressed cake of puerh, to be aged further in cake form.

This Ya Bao puerh is mao cha which has neither been blended with other tea types nor pressed into a cake. It is presented to us by TeaSpring as drinkable now, and I agree. The scent and flavor also differ from the unfermented Ya Bao from Norbu. They are a bit funkier, as you’d imagine, and the leaf has more brownish tones to it. The liquor is still quite light colored, but has earthier flavors, more wood, peat, nut, and pine. I couldn’t identify the vanilla noted by others, but there’s a slight sweetness. The wet leaves smell like sour wet cardboard, which seems to translate, oh-so-fortunately, into a lemony note in the liquid brew.

I followed TeaSpring’s steeping recommendations, right down to the purple clay pot, except my first steep was cooler than boiling. After that, I upped the temp. By the time I got to the 4th steep, at 5 min, I wasn’t getting much except the sourness, and gave up the effort. For flavor, the first steep was my favorite. But for cha qi (that subtle energy of the tea which can be labeled and measured as caffeine, theanine, and a host of other constituents of the leaf), the later brewing delivered a kick that I’ve come to identify with a distinct, hard-to-describe feeling in the throat. Like a young sheng (raw) puerh, these mao cha can be uniquely engaging.

I’m glad I got to try this. It was a good educational experience and likely a healthful drink, but not something I’d seek out again or keep on hand. I’ll send the small (about 2 servings) remainder of this along with the TTB from whence it came. For seekers of new and/or unique experiences (like myself), tea samples, swaps, or a TTB are a great way to go!

Bai Ji Guan has a status almost as mythical as the Yixing Pot itself. If you believe half of what you read on tea blogs, etc., this tea should transport you to heretofore unattainable planes of pleasure and enlightenment.
Inspired by Thomas Smith’s recent post on Steepster here: http://steepster.com/ThomasSmith/posts/63238#comments, I was determined to try this tea — my first time with Bai Ji Guan.
It was difficult to find. I was told by Jing Teas that the 2010 crop was inferior because of climatic conditions. Tillerman was out; Hou De didn’t have any. The only 2010 Bai Ji Guan I could find was from Teaspring.
Well, if this is inferior, I’m not sure I could handle “the truth” about Bai Ji Guan. I’ll try to break it down:
First, I am partial to old-style Wuyi oolongs, traditional heavy roasts. At the same time, I understand the preference for “new” light roasts with more vegetal and floral draperies. Bai Ji Guan seems, impossibly, to hold on to both tendencies. A sniff of the bag convinced me it was Yancha — could have been Da Hong Pao or Rou Gui; no big deal. Color of dry leaves was light golden but not as blond as I’ve seen advertised. But when I slid the leaves into a very pre-warmed pot, the aroma gushed toasted pecans. I awoke with my head in my grandmother’s oven.
After playing around with this tea in a gaiwan (which is where I suggest you start), I filled the little pot almost full — not tightly packed, just loose 80 percent to the top. Quick rinse and just as quick a first infusion. Really. Just a deep breath, then pour.
This is no mere Yancha! In the gaiwan, the spice and pepper were way up front. Sharp almost. Now, in the pot, the green pepper was perfectly balanced with roasted nuts, while a smokey, yes pipe tobacco sense, lay just behind.
I really felt like the difference between Bai Ji Guan and other Yanchas was spatial — similar aromas and tastes but different hierarchy and layers of sensation. Also, the deep creamy thickness that came out of a very light amber liquor. I’ve really never had quite the combination.
In subsequent infusions the tobacco-nut flavor remained dominant. But I’ve never had a tea that changed so much across steeps. Nuts yield to flowers, flowers for a moment seem vegetal. I wish I had Thomas Smith’s fine-tuned vocabulary! Yes, husks and caramels and rain-soaked hay! Egg. I never knew what egg meant until now.
Spent leaves are golden and green, very light. Worshipful.
So. This didn’t make me giddy the way good Dan Congs do. But it may be even more profound; I’m not yet sure.
I can’t believe this is an “inferior” year. May I live to taste next year’s crop. May I live to suck this last little drop off the cup.

Meh. This is a fairly woody oolong, but lacks that certain something I like from my oolongs. It almost tastes watery somehow.

Spent the whole day outside in the cold yesterday, participating in the Christmas Bird Count. Want something warm and comforting to eat and drink to warm me bones… Very lightly smoked Zheng Shan Xiao Zhong and homemade stew with old vine Zin making up half the broth? Yes please.

Sorry ’bout the skeletal nature of the post – I want to finish the tea so I can eat my stew.

Brewed in a very heavy, glazed ceramic gaiwan.
Used 5g per 150ml boiling water for first three infusions: 2min, 2.5min, 3min.
Used 125ml for fourth and fifth infusions: 4min-95C, 5.5min-85C.
No rinse of leaves employed. Stopped at fifth, could’ve pushed a sixth at maybe a 7 min steep with boiling water.

Fragrance — cocoa and oak wood with a faint hint of pine charcoal
Wet Leaf Aroma — more natural cocoa powder, turned acacia wood after rinsing/washing with hot water.

1st infusion — deep brownish orange liquor. Baked wheat bread, prune, pile of raked leaves (Japanese Maple), slight Cyprus resin in aftertaste, Juniper berry + Lychee lingering fruit to lightly charred (and chard + rhubarb vegetal note) aftertaste.
2nd — Same as 1st, more rhubarb spice, bit more resin and body, woody sweetness. Bit of prune in mid-to-aftertaste. Faintly mineral. Hint of baked apples in nose.
3rd — Less tacky, more savory, grape leaves enter picture. Woody, more of the longan note versus lychee/prune.
4th — Slightly underdone chocolate chip oatmeal cookies out of the oven! Light, but decent body, somewhat crisp, and soothing. Eggy.
5th — Orange, transparent liquor. Orange oil in aroma and flavor. Dry and crisp. Meh-okay body, but not a lot of flavor. Good expression of WuYi mineral quality in aftertaste. Would still buy a cheaper tea that tastes like this as something to drink absentmindedly while watching a movie or sommat.

Overall Impression — in all aspects halfway between Golden Monkey and a golden Keemun. Tacky and smooth. Oak wood prevails throughout. Yummilicious.

Time for stew!

The dry tea leaves have a sort of sweet grassy smell.
The first infusion was pretty sweet and refreshing; the second was a little weaker. I tried hotter water for the third infusion, perhaps a bit too hot, as there was a slight bitter taste to the tea.
Regardless, I’m pretty happy with this tea, although not surprisingly, it doesn’t do so well at cutting through the sugar from cookies.

Preparing this two different ways side by side in glazed gaiwans each with 115ml water.
4g using 3min-98C, 4min-90C, 4min-95C, 5min-100C decanted into a serving pitcher
and
3g using a continuous infusion more than 15min and starting at 90C, drinking from the gaiwan.
I groomed the leaf a bit for the continuous brew – the leaf bits were of a more uniform size versus the decanted infusions including some little broken pieces just a tad larger than fannings.
Really, though, if I had one served to me, I would not be able to tell which was which, as long as the infusion time went to four minutes or beyond. Seeeerious consistency. The continuous infusion picked up an “afterthought” astringency towards the bottom, but it’s pleasant and tannin-like, bringing in an oak leaf/acorn character I enjoy.

Above anything else, this leaves a silky impression. I don’t want to say “smooth” though that’s what jumps to mind, since there is a definitive crispness about it and a light astringency that trickles in from the throat up to the tip of the tongue a while after swallowing. Swishing it around in my mouth and letting it sit there is simply smooth and soothing, though a bit mouthwatering with a wood-like acidity… no astringency until it leaves the mouth. And it’s a fun astringency, at that – it’s prickly and stimulating. Ever walk along a creek in the redwoods on a cold summer evening and taken a deep breath? To those who haven’t, I’m sorry, come spend more time along Northern California’s coast. To those who have and can dredge the memory of the taste and smell up to the front of your consciousness, you have a good idea of what this tea tastes like.
Crisp, minerally, tannic, wet softwoods, mellow resin, moss, Douglas Iris, sorrel in bloom, ferns and horsetails, a mellow but steadfast background of white oak fires piping low smoke from distant wood stove chimneys, a touch of leaf litter dust dampened by fog drip, and fleeting notes of kelp washed up on coarse sand beaches in cold ocean water. I suppose this is wholly lacking in the must and mold smells that would accompany all this if you go farther north than Mendocino… but from Santa Cruz to Fort Bragg, it’s pretty darn close. I love it when teas are potently reminiscent of where I live.

This isn’t a particularly smoky Keemun, but the dry fragrance coming from the very pretty leaves is a low, slightly charred barbecue chicken fragrance. The wet leaf aroma takes on a light apple cobbler character (again, slightly charred edges). Liquor is bright red-orange in a shallow white cup and orange-brown in a deep, narrow cup and carries a copper and softwood aroma. In the continuous brew, this took on a tinge of sage brush while the decanted infusion held a more baked apple skin characteristic.

Silky, refreshing, warming but with a bit of a finishing tingle like you’ve been warmed from the cold. Love the play between the crisp and toasty dichotomy. Yummy when hot, but be sure to let a little bit of it go cold for a delicious twist that makes some sweet and spice notes jump forward (hard caramel, black pepper, and so much malt). There’s a good amount of greenery in the flavors and aromas, but the overall tacky nature announces this as a red tea with blaring horns. No bitterness. I want to say chocolate because of the texture, but it really isn’t there, mostly due to that lack of bitterness and only faint sweet aftertaste … more sandstone and sediment than anything else. The tackiness and spice notes remind me of sarsaparilla is some aspects. Third infusion in the decanted brews brings out a slight tangerine note and slicker mouthfeel – lighter body but still satisfying.

This tea can take a beating and shrugs it off like a rhino, but I feel like it would be sort of blasphemous to put anything in it. Just brew it lighter or heavier.
Down side… This tea makes me thirsty.

I am officially withdrawing from The Final Sipdown. I’m pretty much at the point that any teas I have left are gianormous and unless I start bathing in it, I won’t be able to finish off one tea a day, much less two. But I’m really happy with the progress I’ve made with it – 43 teas down. Forty three! And now I have a much more reasonable 94 teas in my cupboard. Yay! I really did enjoy seeing 80-something earlier so I think I will slowly work toward the goal of getting my cupboard back down there, but not as rapidly as The Final Sipdown would require.

Anyway, this means that I can no longer focus on what teas I’m almost out of but can instead take the time to enjoy some newer teas! First up, this lovely smelling one from Angrboda. I admit, I’ve been saving some of Ang’s swap teas for a special occasion. Today I need a pick me up, so I’m dubbing that a special occasion.

The dry leaves smell delightful. Thick and rich with a touch of dark chocolate. It smells like it will be smooth and flavorful – there might even be a hint of something fresh and tingly in there? – so I’m thinking it will have a good depth, too. Per TeaSpring’s orders, I’m using 4g/10oz and steeping it for one minute. And it smells so good. There’s malt, honey (or perhaps a bit of sugar) and some sort of spicy tingle laying on top of it. I’m hoping (based on the vendor description) that it is citrus peel note.

The first sip literally wowed me. It’s not as thick as I was anticipating but it’s such a clear, beautiful flavor. Raw sugar, a hint of creamy chocolate and then that same fresh, spicy note that I’m not sure I would have pegged as orange peel but yeah, that’s what it tastes like. The husband has a family recipe for homemade cranberry sauce and it includes whole oranges (peel and all). I like getting the pieces of orange peel that don’t always get ground into super-tiny pieces because there is this fresh sting that’s not so much bitter as not sweet and has a bit of a spongy texture. It sounds weird, but I really like it. Thinking orange peel then sipping this tea, it taste like I’ve hit upon one of those larger orange peel bits in the cranberry sauce, even down to the texture.

As it cools, the orange peel note becomes a more orange flesh/juice note with under tones of peel. It strengthens as it cools and I’m to the point that this makes me think of one of those super-mild Earl Greys. There’s a delicious honey/sugar aftertaste to it and something almost baked fruit-ish? Baked plums perhaps? There’s also a bit of a starchy texture that pops up as it cools. Not rough, just a bit yam-ish. And about two breaths after a sip (if I don’t sip again) a soft floral taste seems to develop.

Okay, I probably need to wrap up before I start composing sonnets to this tea. It’s really good – not delicate, but not in your face either. Softly flavorful? Flavorfully soft? It’s not a wake-you-up-in-the-morning tea but more of a let’s-take-a-break-from-stress-and-turn-to-goo tea.

Simply delightful.

The Final Sipdown: Day 6.5

This tea is incredible.

Can I say it again?

This tea is incredible.

Unlike flavored alcohol, I find that I really appreciate it when I can taste the derivative beverage in a tea. The taste of alcohol makes me cringe. The taste of tea typically has the opposite effect, and so I greatly appreciate it when the taste of the tea and any other flavors it might involve can play together nicely.

Let’s begin with the scent of the leaves, shall we? It’s got an earthiness about it, but mainly I smell dark chocolate. I have a large bar of Scharffen Berger sitting upstairs that I use for cooking, and that is what I immediately thought of when I smelled these leaves.

The smell of the liquid mimics the leaf scent almost identically, with a bit more of a sweet edge. The chocolate swings between dark chocolate and cocoa.

And then the tea…

The tea is delicious. Aside from the aforementioned flavors, I get notes of caramel, brown sugar, dates, and pecans. On the aftertaste, there’s just a slight, slight tingle of spiciness. Just enough to imply heat. And it feels like I just indulged in some dark chocolate.

Listen, I gulped this cup down before I could really pay attention to it, and while I’d love to go for a second steep I fear that I have too many teas to get through tonight and thus is one of the downsides of TFS.

I will, however, say that from what I’ve tasted, this takes whatever chocolatey or desserty teas I’ve tried have attempted to do, and it does it considerably better. It even takes what teas have not necessarily been attempting cocoa or chocolate [one that comes to mind is that dragon ball pearl tea whatever it’s called from Adagio] and it makes them look like chumps. Like chumps.

I will also say that I am immensely glad that Auggy decided I was worth parting with some of her sample from Angrboda so that I could try this. And also that I will be seriously looking into ordering from TeaSpring. And soon.

Teas Downed: 17

This is probably a great tea—-but for a smoke addict like me, it seems bland. I love TeaSpring’s other Lapsang Souchong offering, but this one is like the timid little sister who cannot speak out loud and clear.

The Lapsang Souchong from TeaSpring that I really like is relatively less costly. It’s all about the smoke and the tar for me. This one is too sweet.

My palate for greens is getting more refined. I can taste in this tea the elements in other greens that people like very much.

It’s grassy, almost buttery, with a medium-high level of astringency, but it leaves a crisp, clean taste in your mouth. And there’s hints of sweetness.

I am enjoying this, but it’s also telling me that in general, I’m not a big fan of greens unless it’s in blended flavors. While this is quite good, I think I’d rather be drinking an oolong or Chinese red.

Another of my Angrboda teas.

4g tea,
12oz water

Dark amber color in steep. There is a very pleasant sweet aroma. Light notes of cocoa maybe some molasses. On the palette it is a very smooth tea, with slight astringent sensation on the finish. None of the flavors are overwhelming, but subtle and layered. It seems a bit difficult to really pick any out.

This was pretty decent, not spectacular like other TGY I’ve had, but still decent. It did not last for many infusions thought, only about 3.

This tea is quite unique – I opened the package and I wasn’t even sure that it was tea inside! Instead of the usual dark, curled pu-erh leaves, this one is in little buds with very short, tight, scale-like leaves. And instead of being dark they’re a light beige colour. It didn’t even really smell like a pu-erh until I added the water – then I could pick up that earthy odor. It didn’t smell as strongly as some though, and it has these smokey undertones.

The tea that it brewed up was surprisingly pale-looking, a very light, golden shade. Its flavour goes from sweet to earthy back to sweet again in my mouth. The earthy flavour is surprisingly mild (for a pu-erh) and the tea lacks the ‘thickness’ of other teas of that type. TeaSpring described the tea as “earthy with hints of vanilla” and I agree, if you tilt your head and squint the sweetness does seem to having something of a vanilla-ish note to it.

This isn’t a tea you can just chug down and go – this is a tea that needs to be savoured in small little sips. Thanks to whoever decided to put this in the Travelling Teabox!

This tea gives off a gorgeous floral aroma when it’s steeping. It makes me think of orchids in the rainforest or a field of wildflowers or something. The flavour is equally fragrant and floral, and it slides along the tongue smoothly and sweetly without tasting too cloying.

The second steeping (@ 2:15) has more body and fullness to it with perhaps a hint of fruit in the beginning of each sip. It’s all very fresh-tasting despite the sweetness.

The third steep (@ 3:15) is a bit less floral and bit more fruity. There’s a hint of greeness coming in, particularly noticable when the tea was hot, and overall I think it’s a bit less sweet than it was in the previous steepings.

The 4th and last steep (@ 4:30) tastes considerably lighter, and I think I’ve reached the tipping point where the quality of each new steep starts being less than the last one – though I could certain still get one or two more half-decent cuppas out of it if not for that fact that it’s bedtime for me.

This is a great Tie Guan Yin, maybe not the very best I’ve tasted, but it comes close. The first two steepings were maybe a bit too floral for my personal tastes, but despite that I can tell that this is a wonderful, high quality tea – it’s in the leaves, the scent, in the flavour, everything.

I got to try this tea thanks to the Travelling Teabox and it’s tempting to keep it. But there’s not much of it left and the teabox is a bit short on oolongs, so I only took the one teaspoon and I’ll send the rest on down the line for the rest of you guys to enjoy it.

Franchement, on peut trouver mieux.
On le trouve différent au début mais ça
s’arrête là…