Red Wine, Green Tea, and Pseudoscience

{ Red wine, green tea, and pseudoscience }  

Oh, for crying out loud. Red wine researchers apparently faking data about resveratrol, which is hoped to be a substance that can slow down aging and aid the body's ability to heal itself. There's big money in the health claims made by food and drink people (and I'm looking at you, green tea and pu-erh sellers), which can be undercut by these kinds of shenanigans.







(Photo found on a blog called, "Bloody Students," written by Merys, who is a newly minted pediatrician.)

Tasting Notes: California Tea House, White Monkey Paw 2009

California Tea House does not indicate whether the three wishes I made on my White Monkey Paw (actually, a green tea) will go horribly awry, as I should expect all such wishes to go, per W. W. Jacobs's classic horror story. I'll update you if any undead show up at my door.

The Web site describes it thus:

White Monkey Paw is a green tea made from the very young leaves and bud of new season growth. It originates from the Wuyi Mountains in Fujian Province, China. With the pride of an Italian chef creating extra long spaghetti noodles, the tea leaves are very carefully hand picked with an artistic process to preserve the tea leaf form and then delicately steamed and dried. These perfect, prized tea leaves in our California Tea House collection resemble a monkey's paw, hence the name.
Similar to Silver Needle white tea, the 'down' on the leaves gives the leaves a silver appearance and indicates that these leaves were plucked very early in the morning and within the first two weeks of growth. Enjoy the art of one of our finest green teas with approximately 2 heaping teaspoons of tea to each cup of mineral water. Steep under 2 minutes in just under boiling water.

THE LEAVES
The above is as good a description as any of the appearance of the leaves before steeping. After steeping, I found a few unbroken leaves, though most showed some breakage; and the color was a rich, olive green. In spite of its name, this is not a white tea, but a green. (My first wish: that Chinese tea names would be useful to us Westerners.)

THE CUP
This pale amber tea is highly fragrant, and as I let it rest a few moments after decanting-- a practice I've found that helps bring out the best flavor of most teas-- I am surrounded by the bright aroma of sea, a touch of pine, perhaps, and French Toast. (Of course, that last may be caused by the remains of breakfast on the table.)
Very nice. As I drink, there is an elusive flavor I can't quite put my finger on, and quite pleasant, though not something easily translated into words. The mouthfeel is nicely buttery, but with a sharpness that catches at the back of the throat, which balances nicely. That quite elusive flavor is in the huigan, that sweet aftertaste that is produced retronasally, as the tea hits the throat and goes from there up to the sinus passages, which can distinguish tens of thousands of aromas.

(Wish number two: that I could sit and write a review without near-constant interruption.)

Coming back to the tea again, after it's cooled just a bit more, the vegetal characteristic is more pronounced, though, the tea is mild and relaxed. Quite nice, rather homey. This is the type of tea I could drink every morning.

THE SECOND STEEPING
I did steep this tea a second time, with the same parameters as the first. This time, the liquor was a pale, sunny, lemon yellow, and the aroma was not nearly as pronounced from the pot. There was no noticeable bitterness, and the flavors were too muted to be of much interest. Next time, I would perhaps double the time of the second steeping in hopes of getting the most from a second shot of this tea.

Thank you for reading this review! Now, if you'll excuse me, there's someone knocking at my door.



[UPDATED TO INCLUDE WEB ADDRESS FOR CALIFORNIA TEA HOUSE.]

Tasting Notes: TeaGschwendner China Lung Ching 2009

TeaGschwendner is one of my favorite sources for Indian teas, particularly first- and second-flush Darjeelings. They have a large variety of flavored teas (which I shall not be reviewing on this site), as well as a number of unflavored greens and oolongs, though these are less likely to be found in local TeaGschwendner shops.

Though I bought the tea not too long ago, it was still the 2009 vintage, and so it's not at its very best (typically, one would want to buy a green tea as close to its picking as possible, which would mean anywhere between April and June; drinking a green a year after its picking is obviously going to dull the taste a bit and make it sparkle less).

The TeaGschwendner China Long Jing can be translated as "Dragon Well," hence the graphic I chose for today's post. I originally bought it for my lovely sister-in-law as a gift, along with several other teas, but she returned the Long Jing to me because she disliked it. Puzzlement! I had made Laura some Long Jing teas, and I knew she liked it. So what was the problem?

Donning my Charlie Chan robes (I would have used Sherlock Holmes, but since Charlie was "Chinese," I thought he would be funnier), I asked Sister-in-Law Number One what she was doing wrong. She was ignoring the directions on the packaging, and steeping at too high a temperature, and probably for too long. I write this as a teachable moment for all my readers: DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT STEEP CHINESE GREEN TEAS AT BOILING, unless you steep for only a matter of seconds (in the range of 5 to 10 seconds per steep). This results in a harsh, ugly concoction that will make you return someone's very thoughtful gift to them, which they will then enjoy immensely without you.

When properly steeped, the TeaGschwendner Long Jing is predictably lovely: a tawny-gold color with a lot of fragrance. There is a slight bitter tang to the flavor, but the bright, high notes and long finish are quite pleasant. This tea survived two steepings nicely, and perhaps more that I'll savor later.

How to describe? There are elusive berry notes in the center of my palate, but the high is a bright, acerbic cheerfulness that I enjoy immensely. There is a hint of something dark in the low palate that offsets the high notes, to give a beautifully balanced cup.

I wish I had been able to get this tea when it was freshly picked, because I'm certain it would have been quite extraordinary. Unfortunately, the TeaGschwendner people have their tea shipped from China to Germany, and from there to the U.S., where it's shelved until it's sold, which means it was a bit beyond its prime by the time I got to drink it. I look forward to tasting the 2010 variety, which I hope will live up to my expectations.

Thank you, TeaGschwendner, for being so consistent and careful with your tea offerings. I've learned so much from living near one of your very few shops, and I am grateful for your considerable addition to the U.S. tea culture.

Tasting Notes: Culinary Teas, Irish Breakfast Green

Indifference is isolation.
In difference is texture and wonder.
(Edwin Schlossburg)

Looking at the leaves as they steep in my Tea-iere from JING Tea, I'm struck by the disjoint in visual texture. On top of the 75C water float largish, olive-green leaves, which slowly drift toward the bottom of the carafe as they gain water. On the bottom is a layer of what looks like some kind of water bracken-- tiny nodules in the same drab green, similar to stuff on the bottom of Clear Lake, in Buchanan, Michigan, where I go to swim and enjoy family and sun. And the liquor itself is a slightly foggy gold-green, which is much brighter and cleaner looking than the leaves themselves would suggest. The textural combination is visually interesting, but not what I typically expect with mixed-region teas, where some effort is usually made to ensure that the leaves appear similar to one another, as well as come together in an harmonious flavor and aroma.

I ordinarily don't drink many mixed-estate teas, much less those whose origins come from mixed regions: Culinary Tea's Irish Breakfast Green comes from Kenya, China, and Japan, and together they form a pleasant enough liquor, fairly light green with a hint of bitterness and a lightly floral, verging on citrus, note amidst the greenly vegetative impression the tea gives.

The instructions on the Culinary Teas Web site call for boiling water on the leaves for three to seven minutes, but I admit, I couldn't bring myself to follow the directions exactly. I could imagine using either boiling water with a duration of perhaps 10 to 30 seconds; or alternatively, 70C to 80C water for the longer duration, which is what I decided on. I think it's a mistake to steep a green tea in the Western style (which is boiling water, 3 or so minutes, as per the Culinary Teas Web site directions), because that tradition was created for black teas. Many people are turned off forever from green teas precisely because they follow this type of instruction, and they end up with a soupy mess that tastes like cooked spinach, completely missing the delightful nuance they might find with a lighter steeping. I, myself, spent 20 years drinking nothing but black teas for this very reason.

Prepared as a more typical green tea, this is enjoyable enough, though not particularly memorable; nevertheless, it does not remind me too much of the sharp, bright, hard-elbowed Irish Breakfast teas I have drunk in the past. I imagine that scalding the tea at a higher temperature and brewing it for a long time might provide that level of deliberate harshness, which is rather desirable in an Irish Breakfast, but can typically be cut by either milk or sugar. I didn't necessarily want to try a green tea with milk this morning, so I'll leave that to your own experimentation with this tea.

(The above image, brought to mind by my meditation on texture is Anselm Kiefer's Tes cheveux d'or Margarethe, 1981.)

Green Tea Review Series 6: Aura Teas, Jian Meng Green Tea 2009

Very generously, my friends at Aura Teas sent me a variety of teas from their private stash of samples, which they are not (at least at this time) offering to the public. Amazing to have such an opportunity! Today I am tasting something called Jian Meng green tea.

I'm sitting in a Panera for work purposes, and enjoying the free Wi-Fi. My hosts are very kindly offering me all the free hot water I can drink, and they've been exclaiming over the wonderful aromas of the teas I've been steeping here today. The JINGtea Tea-iere is a novelty that, once they understood the purpose of it, has been surprisingly excited about seeing. Who knows? Perhaps Panera home office will get a call about offering high-quality teas to their customers, rather than the stuff they currently offer.

I've never heard of this tea, nor can I find references to it online, except that the term, Jian Meng, is apparently been used as to describe a Chinese pu-erh brick. Other than that: nada. So let's dive in.

The leaves are a pale green, fairly small leaf, and this sample has no small amount of broken leaf, but no stemminess. Beautifully fragrant leaves-- have I mentioned how much I love the highly fragrant greens? The aroma coming from the wet leaves is seriously intoxicating. I'm happy I'm sitting in an out-of-the-way corner at Panera, so fellow customers won't think I'm dangerously bizarre for sniffing my JINGtea Tea-iere, in which I steeped the leaves for three minutes with steaming, filtered water. Perhaps it's all the muscatel Darjeeling speaking, which I've been drinking lately, but there's a grape quality to the aroma: a fruity-floral, rather than vegetal, thing going on.

The liquor is a tawny gold, almost an orange, and it is highly fragrant, as well (which is not always the case). The Jian Meng is quite light on the tongue, with a bright quality that nevertheless doesn't have a particularly long-lasting aftertaste. I can taste a flavor rather like chestnuts, a touch of citrus fruit; and that umami that all the kids go on about nowadays, which makes me think of mushrooms, and well-seared steaks, and rich French onion soup. (Which is rather an odd thing to think about when drinking a lightly crisp, bracing green tea, but there you have it.)

Initially, though, there is a sharp bite to each sip (at least, while the tea is quite hot), accompanied by a lovely, drying mouthfeel that I find arresting. The dry mouthfeel continues on, even after the initial sharp flavor of the tea too-quickly dissipates.

In my experience, the Jian Meng's enjoyment seems mostly bound up in its beautiful aroma and it's substantial mouthfeel. The flavor, unfortunately, seems to die off too quickly after sipping, but for the umami, which I mostly experience almost by inference.

It's admittedly a bit odd, discussing a tea that is not in wide circulation and which I am unlikely to experience again, because I can make no recommendations to buy or not for an unavailable item. Nevertheless, how enjoyable to break open something I've never heard of and which is its own unique delight, with its own character and personality. What a pleasure!

As a side note: When I can find more information about this vintage tea from Aura Teas, I will add it here as an addendum.

(The above image is also an item of uncertain provenance: Maybe Jackson Pollack's "Number 1, 1950.")

Review Series Green Tea 5: Maeda-en Kuki-Cha Twig Tea with Matcha 2009

"Great with sweets."

Japan is a small island. Therefore, the tea farmers have to be very smart agronomers, making the most of the tight spaces they have to grow their crops. Kuki-cha is a crucial part of the system of making the absolute most of the resources they have. After the tender leaves are plucked every Spring, the Japanese choose to then pluck the green shoots and very frugally make that into a tea of its own: kuki-cha.

In this case, Maeda-en blends the shoots with a touch of matcha powder, which is made from the light-sheltered gyokuro leaves and ground into a fine tea dust. Matcha is typically used in the Japanese tea ceremony, but here is added to lend a bit of mellowness to the flavor and brightness to the color.

And brightness! The leaves are by far the lightest green in my tea drawer. When steeped, the liquor is an opaquely rich, saturated, radioactive green color that could easily have been accidentally created by Homer Simpson at the nuclear power plant. When I poured off the tea, I could easily see the sharp difference between the 1/2-inch, pale shoots and the darker leaf matter, which appeared much like cooked spinach.

When I first made the tea (80C, 1min), I found it to be a bit... well, weird and bitter. Sencha, I understand. Matcha, not so much, though I've tasted it at Japanese tea ceremony a couple of times. The tea was vegetal and a bit bitter. I went back to the Web site and read that this pairs well with sweets-- much in line with how the Japanese tea ceremony is designed, with dainty sweets accompanying the rather bitter tea, allowing for greater enjoyment.

So I pulled out our Toll House chocolate chip (on the theory that chocolate and matcha pair nicely together) and made the tea again (85C, 1min), and did have better results. The buttery quality of the tea was lovely and quite sweet (once the bitterness was taken care of), and I was able to enjoy the lightly vegetal quality-- a bit like asparagus.

Typically, I enjoy teas without accompaniment: just me and the naked leaves. In this case, the tea actually seems deliberately designed to be drunk alongside the sweets, much as British teas are cultivated to best survive the cultural habit of adding milk and sugar and drinking alongside scones and cream. Drunk on those terms, honoring the cultural heritage that brought about this tea, it's quite delicate and enjoyable. Drunk, though, in the raw (the tea, I mean: you can enjoy it in whatever state of dress or undress you choose), this makes much less sense and is not nearly as enjoyable.

Review Series Green Tea 3: Mighty Leaf Organic Green Dragon (pouch) 2009

Things have changed since I last ventured to use a teabag. Mighty Leaf uses a nylon bag (presumably scent free), in which they place their "Organic Green Dragon," which is their title for Longjing (Lung Ching), which is typically known as Dragonwell in the Western world. It's description, found on their Web site, reads,

An organic dragonwell green tea from China (also known as Lung Ching), our Organic Green Dragon envelops the whole palate with a slightly sweet, very refreshing liquor. A classic wok-fired chinese green tea, it has a delicate chestnut like flavor, captivating aroma, and a lovely yellow-green color. Whole loose leaf green tea fills our silken tea pouch, our gourmet tea bag twist, to infuse the senses.

Longjing is one of the great Tribute Teas of China, and it's almost always placed on the list of 10 Famous Teas. These teas were given in tribute to the Emperor, who got first pick and distributed it at his will among his loyal followers. A longjing tea is nothing to sneeze at.

Longjing is typically supposed to come from West Lake, a region in China famous for this tea. Leaves from this region will fetch a high price, and the very best leaves still never leave China, but are kept for the leaders in their government. One problem with purchasing a longjing is that leaves grown all over China can be labeled, "Longjing," even if they are what Chinese would typically think of as being not quite kosher. One thing that makes longjing teas unique is their processing, where specially trained tea wranglers (so to speak) will wok-fry the leaves in a tiny amount of tea tree oil, and they use the "Ten Movements," which are a series of hand movements (typically 10, but can be more or less, depending on who is doing it) to form the leaves into careful, flat spears.

In addition, the early, pre-Ming Festival leaves demand the highest price, and leaves plucked after that date are often discounted as not being quite top-drawer.

Now, Mighty Leaf does not identify when their tea was plucked (though I must presume 2009), nor the location of origin (other than "China"). I would suggest to them, if they are in possession of this information, that they might wish to provide it on the Web site, to help sell their product.

WHAT I EXPECT
When I drink a longjing, I look for a bright, fragrant cup with a lovely yellow, pure character. I hope the leaves will be bright and fresh looking, and in pretty good shape, to avoid bitterness.

THE PREPARATION
The Web site suggests steeping the sachet 2-3 minutes in 170 to 180F water. I chose 80C (176F) as being a good average, and for the full 3 minutes, in a glass pot (very happily provided by Jing Tea).

THE CUP
For this cup, I couldn't really see how the leaves were formed, because they were in the tea bag, though I could see a bit of broken leaf. The wet leaves had a pleasant enough aroma, though rather faint. The liquor is pure yellow-gold. The flavor is grassy with a hint of an acerbic, herbaceous quality I find appealing, and which I've missed for several long months, as I've been drinking other teas.

Ultimately, though, I find the Organic Green Dragon to be rather flat and disappointing. I do not know if it's because of the leaf itself, or because it's been placed in a sachet for convenience sake, or because of deficiencies in my own steeping. I love longjing, and I wanted this to be brighter and much more fragrant than it ultimately was. Again, I enjoyed the flavors and aroma, but I wanted more of them in the cup, on my tongue, and in my nose.

(Cross-posted on TeaViews.com)

Review Series Green Tea 1: Grand Tea, Premium Bi Luo Chun 2009

Grand Tea has a video in which a tumbler of Bi Luo Chun leaves are steeped. Strangely, whenever I make my own glass of this lovely green tea, seagulls do, indeed, start calling, and soothing music rises up in the background.

For some background on the tea, I found this on their Web site:

Bi Lu Chun is one of the most famous Green tea in China, it means "Green Spring Snail" in Chinese and is named by an emperor in seventeenth century by its look. GrandTea.com's Bi Luo Chun ( Pi Lo Chun , Bi Lu Chun) is first class Green Tea comes from Suzhou province in China. To product this tea, the leafs and buds are picked by skilled hands one by one in the early spring. The tea has almost no broken leafs and the shape is so called "one bud two leafs" which is an ideal shape of the best quality green tea. Taste, and aftertaste is light, sweet and pleasant with a hint of fruity fragrance. This Bi Lou Chun is limited produced and will only be available in a limited time each year. Preparation of this tea need to do with care. General tips are use one tablespoon or 3-4 grams of tea leaves for every 160 ml water. The temperature should be 75-80 °C with a steeping time 1-3 minute depend on the desired strength.

THE LEAVES
Opening the package, I found tiny, olive-green twists of leaf, which opened up to become . . . tiny, obviously new-growth leaves in the pot. It's always a great idea to study the loose-leaf tea leaves when you make a cup of tea, so you can learn a lot about a tea by the appearance and aroma of the dry leaves. In this case, because the leaves were so tiny, I could tell they were plucked at an early stage in Spring. If it takes twice as many tea plants to produce the same weight of leaf, it will obviously cost more to produce. Also, because the leaves are so fresh, their taste will be more delicate. Chinese will spend quite a lot of money for these early leaves (which they refer to as "Pre-Ming," in reference to the QingMing festival, which takes place on the 15th day from the Spring equinox; and in which everyone goes outside to tread on the green, enjoy the weather, and take care of their ancestors' graves).

THE STEEPING
I followed the steeping instructions provided by Grand Tea's Web site, though I used my great-grandmother's century-old porcelain Japanese teapot instead of a glass tumbler.

THE CUP
My family and I love this tea. It is bright, pleasantly vegetal, with a slightly dry mouthfeel and a nicely floral fragrance. Settling into the cup, I enjoy the clean refreshment of the liquor: yellow-gold in color, perfectly transparent. Exactly what I expect a high-quality Bi Luo Chun to taste like. This particular one tastes of sweet rice, and a bit buttery. I enjoy the long finish with notes honey and grain.

OVERALL IMPRESSIONS
Why drink this tea? It's very refreshing and clean, with a happy Spring feeling. After I let the tea rest a bit and come back to it, it's surprisingly green, and upbeat, and bright, with a crisp, dry edge that keeps all that sweetness from becoming cloying.

(This review has been cross-posted at TeaViews.com.)

Review: An Ji Bai Cha '09, Grand Tea

It's amazing what you find when you just start searching for crazy things on Google. I typed in, "wolf drinking tea," and lo and behold, this image is what I discovered. Thank you, Migy Illustration, for the great image. Please go to their Web site for much illustration goodness.



Grand Tea: An Ji Bai Cha

Today I find myself wolfing down Grand Tea's An Ji Bai Cha like it's going out of style. Of course, if wolves drank tea and dressed as snappily as the ones in the illustration, they might not have quite the public relations nightmare they've developed.

THE BACKGROUND
An Ji Bai Cha has quite a unique story: it's a long-lost tea that was recreated only a few years ago by tea sleuths putting together hints found in various ancient texts. I wrote about it in detail here, and I hope you'll go there to read about where this enjoyable tea comes from.

THE LEAVES
When I open the package from Grand Tea, provided to me via the folks at TeaViews.com, I am confronted with a singingly fresh, bright, grassy fragrance that instantly takes me outside. The leaves look much like a longjing tea: two fresh green leaves and a bud, carefully formed by carefully orchestrated movements, whereby the tea processors place the green leaves into large woks coated with a small amount of tea oil, and they pan fry them using special hand movements (usually 10) that fold and refold the leaves into flat spears.

My notes, and I quote: "SOOOO GOOD."

THE PREPARATION
In a Japanese teapot, I used 1 tsp/cup at 70C, for 4 minutes.

THE LIQUOR
As is typical with an An Ji Bai Cha, it is a pale gold with a very slight greenish cast. Beautifully sweet with slight hint of bitterness to the tongue (maybe less time steeping would work better). This tea has much the same effect on me that good cranberry juice has: I can drink it endlessly, insatiably, and never feel like I've had enough. I would get to the bottom of the cup, surprised that I was done already, and ready for more.

Review: The Tea Spot, Green Twisted Spears

Most people in the U.S. think of tea as the dusty stuff inside of a tea bag: dark brown or black, ground powder that is not interesting enough to bear mention. Green Twisted Spears, from The Tea Spot, is entirely different.

THE LEAVES

The leaves are two-inch-long, tightly wound spears, per the name, perfectly formed and worlds away from the tea powder most people are used to. The shape doesn't tell me anything about flavor or aroma, but it says an enormous amount about the attention that has gone into its manufacture. This is a very carefully made tea, and I have some hope that it will be interesting. When the leaves are steeped, they are lightly aromatic with a citrus tone, and the leaves remain fairly tightly furled.

THE TEA

A green from Sri Lanka, this is a novelty to me. I've had Ceylon black teas before, of course, and some of them can be quite nice. Now, green teas traditionally come from China and Japan. But more recently, other tea-growing regions have recognized that by producing high-quality, connoisseur-level teas, they won't be as boxed in as they would were they growing only the commoditized leaves destined for mass-produced tea bags. Happily, I discover, there are Sri Lankan tea farms with an eye toward the high-end market.

THE PREPARATION

The Web site gave me no indication of steeping, so I called The Tea Spot and spoke to Jessica, who explained that a heaping teaspoon or maybe tablespoon of tea should go in water around 180F (82C), for two to three minutes. Further, she explained that the tightly wound tea leaves would allow me to steep it "multiple, multiple times," like an oolong. I chose 180F for 2 minutes for the first steeping. We'll see what happens with subsequent steepings, and I'll see how long I like to drink it.

THE CUP

Steeping 1

Golden and transparent, without a hint of cloudiness. The flavor is clean and lively, with a hint of earthiness to it. Sri Lankan teas have a unique flavor profile, which I can also taste here in this green-- earthy, fruity, even a bit buttery. As greens go, this provides that clean mouthfeel, very light, though it has that earthy note I mentioned earlier, which anchors the tea. It's just a little weak, though; 3 minutes would have been better than 2.

Steeping 2

2 min, 82C. taste is mostly same as before. woody quality stronger. Pleasant aftertaste that tastes, oddly, a bit like ghee, the Indian clarified butter I sometimes use when cooking.

Steeping 3

3 min, 80C. The tea weakens noticeably, and honestly it loses a bit too much interest.


OVERALL IMPRESSIONS
I can see why the manufacturer tells us to steep many times, but I couldn't get enough enjoyment out of it to go past the fourth steeping. I like how the Sri Lankan terroir affected the flavor of the green, because it was like finding a friendly acquaintance in an unusual place: say, a friend from church, greeting me when I'm climbing up a mountain slope in Colorado.

I've never had a green Ceylon before, and I'm pleased with the beautiful handcrafting of the leaf, which was sufficiently interesting to merit an experiment with the tea, all by itself. While this tea isn't as nuanced or bold as the Chinese greens I am more accustomed to, when taken on its own merit, it's pleasant. I'd be interested to see what kind of tea the Ceylon producers will be producing in a hundred years, after much practice and developing cultivars specifically for the green tea style.

In all, this tea is beautiful to look at, and okay to drink. One could say this is like those presentation teas that are great fun to look at, but don't necessarily knock your socks off with aroma or flavor.

>> UPDATE:
Found 08.17.09 on FaceBook:

The TeaSpot

sweet!

If the rest of you are intrigued,http://tiny.cc/spearreview Get automatic 30% off all Green Twisted Spears sizes, today only! http://tiny.cc/spearsale

REVIEW: Maeda-en Sen-cha Select

Maeda-en Sen-cha Select

Heard This Morning
Seven-year-old boy: "That's good. Best one ever."
Wife: "That was good. What was it?"
Baby girl: ...

I'm quite happy with this cup of tea. Maeda-en is a Japanese company, and I've had the opportunity to enjoy a couple of their senchas recently. It is July, but here in the Chicago area, we've had one of the coolest summers on record. Quite often, a Japanese sencha is drunk cold in hot weather (and is often cold-brewed, which imparts an entirely different set of steeping parameters that create yet another taste experience for those so inclined). But because of the cold, I am drinking it hot.

WHAT IS SENCHA?
Most people are familiar with matcha, the powdered Japanese tea that is prepared in a bowl with a whisk, and is used in Japanese tea ceremony. Sencha, on the other hand, are steamed (not pan-fried) teas that are not ground into powder.

THE PREPARATION
1 tsp per 1 cup 70C filtered water, steeped for 2 minutes in Great-Grandma's 100-year-old Japanese porcelain pot.

A NOTE ON WATER
I use Culligan reverse-osmosis water, which is a bit superior to the local tap water, even when I run the tap through a Brita filter. That being said, because reverse-osmosis water has had practically all of the particulate matter removed, the water can be just a bit flat. I have been shopping for Japanese bamboo charcoal, which when added to boiling water will purify it and add minerals to liven it up a bit. Several Twitter tea compatriots swear by this, and I will be placing the order soon. But for this tea experience, the cry will be heard by '50s-era housewives everywhere: "Hey, Culligan man!"

THE LEAVES
I am used to large-leaf Chinese oolongs and mid- or large-sized Darjeeling SFTGFOP1 leaves. But these are quite tiny, with quite a bit of particulate matter and stems. Once steeped, they appear very much like cooked, frozen spinach. I particularly like the aroma of the steamed leaves, which is a warm, quite complex combination of, really, cooked food smells: like a kitchen with interesting things happening within.

THE CUP
Lovely green-yellow liquor, with a very faint fogginess, which is quite what I would expect with a Japanese green tea. The tea is quite mild in flavor: lightly sweet, and ever-so-slightly bitter, and a focus on the low flavor notes, which I noticed in the throat and back of the tongue: slightly woodsy, a hint of bitter salt. I experienced a nicely roasty huigan (which is the sweet aftertaste), a bit like very clean charcoal from wood. There is a light bitterness that rises in the mouth as the initial sweetness of the huigan recedes. The huigan is really quite enjoyable, as it alternates between the greenly sweet grassiness, and the slight bitterness, and the green sweetness again. Well done.

OVERALL IMPRESSIONS
Obviously, as you saw above, my family much liked this tea, and so did I. Very enjoyable, very relaxed, and nicely complex. Thank you, Maeda-en, for such an enjoyable tasting experience.

(This review is being posted and will appear eventually at TeaViews.com.)

Review: Earthbound Tea, Green Wink

Ah, the lazy days of Summer, when diligent little self-employed closed-captioner elves find themselves up to their eyeballs in work. Who knew I would ever feel too busy to write about tea? I have half a dozen partially written commentaries about my favorite brown leaf juice. Here is one of them!

REVIEW: EARTHBOUND TEA, GREEN WINK

Green Wink is variously called Zhen Mei, or Chunmee, in Chinese, which translates as, "Precious Eyebrows." This is because the dry leaves are small, irregularly shaped balls that do appear a bit like eyebrows, or winking eyes. Earthbound Tea's product name is a great translation, and conveys much more in English than "Precious Eyebrows" ever would. Or "Glorious Comma."

Zhen Mei was originally produced in Jiangxi, China, but is now also created in factories in Fujian, Anhui, Zhejiang, and others. This one happens to be created in Yunnan. This is quite often the case with these boutique teas. There is simply not enough room in the ancestral homes of these teas, so other regions will borrow the production style and recreate it somewhere else. Often with good results, as the teas change subtly to accommodate a new terroir.

I like how the Zentara Tea company describes the flavor and production of this tea:

Chunmee green tea has a unique flavor profile. Absent what is often called a "chestnut note" common in many other Chinese green teas, Chunmee is a smooth tasting green tea with a subtle lingering sweet/sour aftertaste which some tea drinkers compare to a plum flavor. Chunmee is a well-balanced tea that holds up well to many different foods when served with morning or evening meals.

To create the unique shape of the tea leaves for a Chunmee tea, the hand-plucked tea leaves are processed by withering and then steaming to stop the oxidation process and maintain a green leaf. The final step is pan-firing, and during this process the leaves are hand-rolled using controlled movements while monitoring the temperature and firing time. The creating of the eyebrow shape has been perfected for centuries, going back to the Ming Dynasty, and this artisan prepared tea is still one of the most popular green teas in China.

THE PREPARATION

The Web site did not give very precise instructions on how to infuse this leaf, so I guessed, given the general parameters of green tea: 70C, 1 heaping tsp per cup, 3 minutes, antique Japanese porcelain pot. Then I tried a new pot at 72C, 2 teaspoons percup, 3 minutes.

THE LEAVES

Dark, dusty green balls, shaped like little winking eyes. When they are steeped, they open into full, lush, dark leaves, with a bit of stem here and there, only faintly aromatic. When they have been steeped, they open out into beautiful, dark-green, full leaves. It's a bit of a game with many high-end tea producers: Can they create an unusual dry shape that, when wet, will spring back exactly into the shape the leaves had before processing? Also, please recall that when tea leaves are balled up like this, the the surface area is reduced, so the amount of leaf that can react with the oxygen and moisture in the atmosphere is reduced, thus increasing the quality and shelf-life of the tea.

THE CUP: MY FIRST ATTEMPT

Steeped with 1 tsp/cup at 70C for 3 minutes, the liquor, or soup, of this tea is very pale, with the appearance of a white tea. It's perfectly transparent with a slightly golden hue. This is a very restrained, clean cup of tea without a hint of bitterness. Pleasant, and Suzanne declared it, "Very good." Honestly, I had a bit of trouble really picking out what this tea tastes like.

The tea is, to my taste, a bit too mild with the steeping parameters I initially chose. So I decided to infuse a new pot, but this time with 2 tsp/cup at maybe 72C for 3 min, to give the infusion more strength and to help me discern the taste more distinctly.

MY SECOND ATTEMPT

This time, the tea is a richer, but still pale and transparent, gold. The green taste is much more pronounced, with a strongly vegetal quality. The acidity of the cup is more pronounced as well, with a pleasant burn on the way down. It has that umami quality, which I very much enjoy in a green tea, with a taste like the seashore, and high notes of salt, and a floral aroma that reminds me of daisies on a hot day.

AND A FOOTNOTE ABOUT CHINESE NAMES
When I ask my friends to compare this tea with others I've had recently, they struggle because the two- or three-syllable Chinese names just blend in with one another and are forgotten. When we use English translations, which can often go in several directions, we may not know what we're talking about. Happily, Earthbound Tea gives a catchy English translation along with its Chinese equivalent.

REVIEW: Jing Tea, Pre-rain Organic Anji Bai Cha

Emperor Song Hui Zhong was quite the artist, no?
Too bad he had no idea how to run an empire.

Jing Tea's Pre-rain Organic Anji Bai Cha

A BIT OF HISTORY: A LOST TEA IS FOUND AFTER A THOUSAND YEARS. MAYBE.

I was researching Anji Bai Cha and found this wonderful history. Regrettably, Friend Ningbo's Web site, China Travel, is no longer active. I'll publish the entire blog post here, just in case China Travel disappears. [boldface mine]

Harvested between 7 to 18 degrees Celsius on March 28, 2006 before Qing Ming! There was an emperor during the Song Dynasty named Song Hui Zhong (Zhou Ji) who was a great artist, and a passionate tea lover. He wrote a book about tea titled ‘Da Guan Cha Lun’ (A Discussion Focused on Tea) He wrote a whole chapter on Bai Cha, but he didn’t mention the source.

Lu Yu, the famous tea sage during the Tang Dynasty, described An Ji as a treasure of tea, but he didn’t mention the tea. It took 900 years for tea scholars and tea masters to put the two together and discover an ancient Bai Cha bush. It has taken since 1980 to propagate enough bushes to have a commercial crop. This is the most sought after green tea in China. It is rare and wonderful. We are proud to be the first company to import this tea from China. Bai Cha means white tea, but this is green tea, and despite the name it does not belong to the white tea category. The name comes from Zhou Ji, which likened it to white jade in water. This tea is sometimes called by tea experts An Ji Bai Pian. The soil where this tea grows is similar to the soil in the WuYi Mountains in that it is sandy, rocky and rich in minerals. The environment, of course, has a powerful impact on the tea. In the winter there is a stretch of cold for more than 20 days of -8 to - 10 degrees Celsius. This causes a decrease in chlorophyll. As the weather warms and the new tea buds and leaves start to grow, the color is a very light and yellowish shade of green, the veins being dark green. After the temperature reaches 23 degrees Celsius the leaves turn to a darker shade of green.

The tea harvest time for the best tea occurs for the short amount of time before the leaves turn color. During this period the amino acid theranine is double that of other teas. Theranine is an amino acid that is calming to the nervous system. The fragrance of this tea shouts FRESH, and the taste is very clean and sweet. There is a very limited amount of this tea.

This is why I like to read about the story of tea. Here we have a unique bai cha that was mentioned in a text written by the brilliant and tragic Emperor Hui Zhong, of the Song Dynasy, who lived from 1082 to 1135. Even earlier, the great Sage of Tea, Yu Lu (733-804) wrote his classic, The Classic of Tea (Chá jīng). In his book, Yu Lu mentions this unusual tea, as well. Well, some researchers put two and two together, and a great tea is reintroduced to the world after a hiatus of perhaps a thousand years. Or so it appears.

Further, I found this comment on the T Ching Web site, written by Austin Hodge, founder of Seven Cups (an excellent source for serious tea lovers):

...There has been a lot of confusion about ‘white tea’ and its origin. In the west, the confusion began with John Blofeld’s book The Chinese Art of Tea. Blofeld, who had never come across a white tea, said that it was rare and highly prized and had been more common during the Song Dynasty. He thought that there may have been some at the time in Fujian, but he had not tasted any. The Song reference is from the Da Guan Cha Lun, written by the Song emperor Song Hui Zhong Zao Jie. He loved what he named “Bai Cha,” which means white tea, but was really green tea, which was the only kind of tea that was produced at that time. He named it not for the characteristics of the leaf, but because the tea liquid was the color of white jade, a very light shade of green. This tea was rare at the time, and he made no reference the the area where it had been produced, though tea scholars feel that it had come from Anji in Northern Zhejiang province. During the time that Blofeld was writing his book a Bai Cha bush was discovered by researchers there in the 1980s. From that single bush the current crop of Anji Bai Cha has been propagated. It is important perhaps to note that all tea produced during the Song Dynasty was made into cakes, which were then ground into powder and then whipped tea with a whisk in the same way as matcha is prepared today. It is possible that the ancestor of the Da Bai Hao bush, Lu Xue Cha, was being consumed during the Song, it is unlikely that it is the ‘Bai Cha’ mentioned by Song Hui Zhong Zao Jie. At least Chinese scholars don’t think it to be likely, because it is supposed the tea produced would be a very rich green color. Fujian tea marketing would like to make the connection, but tea scholars disagree.

The origins of white tea production are not very old. Not until somewhere between 1772 and 1782 was white tea first produced. The process was developed by the Xiao family in Jiang Yang County in northern Fujian and the technique quickly spread to Fuding, Zheng He and Song Xi. The Xiao family wanted to establish a tea making process that would be more economical. They eliminated pan frying and shaping and minimized roasting. Still, not until the early nineteenth century did the evolution of the Da Bai Hao bush produce enough buds to make Bai Hao Yin Shen (Silver Needle) as its own distinct tea.

There is no steaming involved in the production of white tea, no in Chinese green teas in general. Unlike green tea production which is exposed to relatively high temperatures to remove moisture, white tea is dried naturally using sunlight or lower temperatures in doors helping to preserve tea polyphenols. The preferred method is drying by the sun, up to 90% if there is sunny weather. It is not often, however, that there is enough sunshine to provide this function. The alternative process begins with the tea after being withered in covered open sheds, then is placed on bamboo ranks inside of rooms that are radiator heated at about 40 C. It is important to note the care that Bai Hao Yin Shen is given when laying the buds on the racks, as if they were solders in formation, neatly lined, spaced and in formation. The room is well ventilated to remove the humidity with fans. During this natural drying white tea will naturally oxidize very slightly. Masters skill is shown in temperature control though the drying process, consideration for ambient temperatures during the all natural process and how thick the leaves are piled on to the bamboo drying trays. The tea is dried in this way to 70%. The final stage in either case is a slight roasting, in the past done by charcoal, is now heated artificially. Great care is used in protecting the color of the hair or fuzz so that it does not yellow.

Mr Pratt is also mistaken [in an earlier post, which is being discussed here] in saying that Bai Hao Yin Shen does not contain caffeine or chlorophyll and like all bud tea is very rich in tea polyphenols. The research of Lou Shou Jun, director of the Chinese National Tea Quality Control Center indicates that the bud of the Da Bai Hao bush is one of the richest in tea polyphenols of the Chinese varietals. In does in fact contain caffeine and chlorophyll, this were early myths about Bai Hao Yin Shen to explain the name, but have no basis in fact. The Bai Hao Yin Shen looks just as green on the bush as any other bud.

The other myth is that white tea is a rare tea. Actually the Da Bai Hao bush has been widely propagated through the support of the Chinese government. It is a major export crop. In the domestic market, because it buds early in the spring there by bringing a better price, and is made into green tea. You can find vast Da Bai Hao gardens as far north as the Ningbo area in Zhejiang province producing green tea. Ironically the once truely rare Bai Cha bush from Anji is also spreading quickly through the tea growing areas of Zhejiang and Anhui.

Still, it is all great tea.

Austin

Controversy! Yes, that's why I love to read about tea. It may or may not be the long-lost tea, but it does taste, oh, so good.


THE TEA
In appearance, the leaves are long, emerald-green spears. They are obviously pan fried, in the classic one-leaf-and-a-bud configuration. I was impressed at their perfect appearance, with such nicely green, crisp leaves. Obviously, this tea has been well cared for, because the leaves would appear washed-out and less brilliant were they not stored properly. This tea smells a lot like the Dragon Well teas I've drunk, perhaps because of the pan frying.

THE PREPARATION
1 tbsp per cup of filtered water, boiled then brought down to 65C, steeped 4 minutes in Great-Grandma's Japanese porcelain teapot.

THE CUP
The liquor is a pale, crystal gold. Happily, this Anji Bai Cha is quite smooth, not at all bitter. The Jing Tea Web site says it is "vivacious and exuberant;" I would have to agree, with this caveat: The tea didn't open up its flavors for me until the second cup of the first steeping, after the tea had an opportunity to oxidize a bit and develop its complexity.

My wife saw the dry leaves, and they were so delicious looking, she tasted some and convinced me to do likewise. The leaves were just a touch bitter when chewing, but they left such a refreshing, clear, bright aftertaste. I can see how people can make tea leaves into meals in some Chinese restaurants. Perhaps this green tea could be marketed as a candy by some clever teapreneur. Any takers?

This green tea-- it's not really white, but green, in spite of its name-- has such an airy mouthfeel and flavor with the first cup. Now, for the second cup, the tastes have opened up. Again, the "Second Cup" phenomenon shows itself, whereby heat and time combine to allow the complex flavinoids, and catechins, and so on in the tea to combine and recombine, forming new substances that were not there early on.

THE SECOND STEEPING
The mouthfeel is rather dry now, and so clean tasting-- like it is sanitizing my mouth. The flavor is now reminiscent of vanilla, pine, and iris-- a green Spring in a cup.

OVERALL IMPRESSIONS
At first, the tea was just too quiet for me, and then on the second cup, bang, the flavors showed up. The tea liquor itself shared quite exactly the taste that I had experienced by nibbling on the tea leaves. There's that umami, the Fifth Flavor; and a pine-like grassiness, combined with very high, singing notes like lavender, or iris, or a grape arbor. The tea finishes with a very sweet huigan, which is complex and surprising.

This is a really satisfying cup of tea.


UPDATE: This tea review can also be found on TeaViews.com: http://www.teaviews.com/2009/06/27/review-jing-tea-pre-rain-organic-anji-bai-cha/

Review: Maeda-en Sencha Select

Quickly on the heels of my previous Maeda-en company green tea, I wanted to try another of their senchas: Maeda-en Sencha Select.

The leaves are mildly fragrant, with a fruity citrus high note. They are a very dark green, small, and a lot of broken powder, and they have a nice dry crunch to them, which shows me they've been stored properly, and kept away from the moisture that would degrade the quality.

THE PREPARATION

For this sencha, I steeped at a fairly low temperature of about 70C for 2 minutes, which is the long end for this tea, from the advice found on their Web site. With the low temperature, you can steep longer; and the converse is true, as well.

THE CUP

The liquor is a gold-green with a small amount of fogginess, and it's quite attractive. The aroma matches that of the leaves; very green smelling, with that hint of citrus in the high notes, like a mandarin orange-- a kind of green-gold scent, if you will. The flavor is quite pleasing-- a robust flavor that reminds me a bit of the sea, of freshly mown hay. The vegetable note is quite noticeable. I can only discern the slightest bitterness, and there is a sweet, lingering aftertaste.

OVERALL IMPRESSIONS

Not bad! As with the previous post, this Sencha seems to be a pleasing everyday tea that is quite comforting. I'm not a trained tea sommelier, so I won't hazard a guess as to how to pair this with food, but it is refreshing and clean, bright without being overbearing, and rather relaxed and friendly.

REVIEW: Maeda-en, Sen-cha Fukamushi Green Tea Select

Maeda-en is a green tea company I was unfamiliar with, until the folks at TeaViews gave me a sample of their Sen-Cha Fukamushi Green Tea Select. I've had a number of senchas before, though not of this type. A Fukamuchi sencha is described thus on the Web site:

Fukamushi Sen-cha (deep-steam green tea) is steamed for longer periods of time than regular Sen-cha, which gives its milder aroma and robust taste. Leaves tend to crumble because of this extra processing, and gives the tea its signature opaque quality.

Our Blender's Fukamushi Select is medium bodied with pronounced flavors of green tea, and is minimally bitter.

For a delicious cup, we recommend: 1 tbsp of leaves, brewed in 9-12 ounces of hot water (160 to 190), for 1 minute.

I was surprised at the very short steep time (1 minute), but perhaps because the tea leaves were small with a lot of powder in it, it would be bitter if steeped longer.

THE CUP

As the Web site described, this tea is a translucent jade green, which is a quality much loved by the Japanese. The tea is a mildly sweet, with an almost nutty, buttery flavor within the typically "grassy" green-tea flavor. There is very little bitterness, and it's very easy to drink. There is a very faint-but-sweet aftertaste, but it does linger quite nicely.

OVERALL IMPRESSIONS

This tea is relaxing and relaxed; it's not mind-blowing or amazing in any way, but it's very comforting and would be a great everyday tea. My little seven-year-old boy enjoyed his very much with buttered wheat toast and declared he wants to be a tea maker. Or a computer game maker. Or maybe both. What I take from this is that it's pleasant for even a little American boy to drink without milk or sugar to alter the taste, and of sufficient quality to set him thinking of a future in tea.

Video: Production of Gyokuro and Matcha, in Uji, Japan

Video: Matcha and Gyokuro Processing.

My Facebook friend, Jean-Philippe Maurer, who is based out of Shanghai, China, and works with THEODOR tea company, sent me a link to this video, which is produced by O-Cha.com. It shows how gyokuro and matcha Japanese green tea are made in Uji, Japan.

In the beginning of the video, we see a green tea field in Uji, Japan, where workers are putting up an elaborate system of frames and sun shades, which are put in place for 20 days before the harvest to shield the leaves from the harsh sun, allowing them to achieve a quality of green tea found nowhere else. I found this description on the Chanoya Web site:

Gyokuro is the finest Japanese tea, known as “precious dew.” Carefully grown under diffused sunlight for 20 days before harvesting. It has a rich, sweet, dense infusion with a hint of marine flavor and a long, lingering aftertaste. Nothing like in other teas. Uji, Kyoto is traditionally specialized in Gyokuro and Macha production. Their tea leaves are often blended with other prefectures’ tea due to their small product quantity.

The video shows the entire process, from the leaves being stripped from the tea plants, to the steaming, the twisting (by machine), and the three times the gyokuro is baked.

In addition-- beautiful video here-- the matcha is shown to be heated, then the tea is air-dried by dropping in a mesh cage from a height of several stories up, down to a conveyor belt below that carries them on through to being heated and ultimately pulverized into the traditional matcha powder.

For all you green tea lovers, definitely something to take a few minutes to watch.

REVIEW: Mighty Leaf, Emerald Pearls

Emerald Pearls, by Mighty Leaf

One of the perils of writing reviews is that you sometimes stumble upon other people's reviews of the same product. In this case, I've recently watched the enjoyable Walker Tea Review, with Jason Walker, who said this is what he would consider a "base model tea," to paraphrase; or in other words, that tea with other green teas would be compared. "It's more floral," or "It's more vegetal," that kind of thing. Well, let's see what I think, for what it's worth.

THE LEAVES
Emerald Pearls are certainly an emerald green, but not in "pearl" shape-- or, rounded balls of tea leaf. Instead, the leaves are short spears, deeply green-black in hue. I asked the Mighty Leaf person on Twitter about the name, and got a reply that perhaps the name signified its value and rarity. When steeped, the leaves unfurled in a forest green, with hints of gold. There is definitely a warm, garden scent to it-- the vegetal, or asparagus, note that Jason Walker speaks of.

THE CUP
My wife took a cup and wandered off into the other room with the baby. She said, "Wow, what is this? Mm, this is good." Or words to that effect. She liked it! Hey, Mikey!

Golden-green, transparent to the bottom of the cup. The tea has a rather dry mouthfeel, and it is nicely fragrant. It's a rainy day today, and as I stood in front of the open door with the tea flavor fresh on my tongue, I thought of my Grandma's wonderful garden, and how it smelled on a rainy day. I realized that the tea itself was providing the fragrance that triggered the memory. There's a slight sweetness, and the slight dryness doesn't really detract from the smoothness of the cup. I like that astringency, and it goes well with the hint of citrus in the high notes, or the umami of the low notes. The low note hangs on in the mouth, with a very long and pleasant finish.

Umami, for those of you unfamiliar with the term, is the elusive "fifth flavor," which accompanies the usual sweet, sour, bitter, and salty. It is caused by L-glutamate (and other variations of the glutamate molecule), which is present in large amounts in green tea. It's a yummy meatiness, or a satisfying happy flavor that is difficult to pin down, but wonderful to experience. If you want to learn more about umami, go to this Web site: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=15819485 .

OVERALL IMPRESSIONS
I find this tea to be very satisfying and pleasurable in a simple, unobtrusive way. Nothing in this tea screams for your attention, but instead, it feels welcoming and homey.

Tea can be purchased here: http://www.mightyleaf.com/chinese-tea/organic-emerald-pearls-green-tea/

REVIEW: Zhi Tea, Snow Mountain Green

The most beautiful place I have ever seen is the Königssee, in the Bavarian Alps, which I quite desperately long to visit again. It was summer, and my wonderful friends brought my wife and me to the high mountains surrounding the crystal lake, where the blue flowers against the verdant valleys echoed the perfectly clear sky framed by high peaks. These remain strongly in my mind, and the memory is sweet, though growing a bit fainter over the course of years.

The reason I'm thinking about this is because Zhi Tea's Snow Mountain Green tea is also like an exercise in memory. When drunk according to Zhi instructions, the tea taste is mostly experienced in its aftertaste, where the long finish unfurls the various aromas.


THE LEAVES
Surprisingly curly, twisted silver-white leaves with a very lightly floral fragrance. As they are steeped, they take on a jade-green color, long leaf tips joined together with a tiny bit of stem. Carefully crafted. The leaf aroma after steeping is not completely attractive, but it's interesting: a memory of the

THE TEA
Snow Mountain Green is a China green tea from the Hunan province.

THE PREPARATION
1 teaspoons of leaf in 80C reverse-osmosis filtered water, 2.5 minutes steeping time.

THE CUP

Two days ago, when I prepared this tea, I followed the Zhi tea instructions: 1 tsp per cup. As I made it, I thought the end result would be rather weak, because the large leaves were not very dense in the cup. I was right. Such a pale green-gold, the liquor was as transparent as clear water. The flavor of the tea itself was rather elusive, with a lovely aftertaste 2-3 min after sipping... like cherry, slightly bitter, dry, and rather flowery.

And so today I made the tea again, this time with double the amount of leaf per cup. The tea is lovely. The liquor is a just slightly foggy gold, with almost a cherry blossom aroma. As the leaves cooled, I noticed a green grape aroma coming from them in the pot. The tea was much more nuanced, with faint fruit-- grape, perhaps-- and with a floral aroma high up in the profile. Very springlike and fresh, smooth, with a longish finish.

Truly a beautiful tea, which benefits (to my taste) by being steeped with double the leaves as the Zhi packaging and Web site recommend.



(Beautiful picture of the Konigsee is able to be seen on an Alpine photography tour run by John Baker.)

REVIEW: Mighty Leaf, Organic Yellow Flower

Mighty Leaf offers a green tea they call, Organic Yellow Flower.

I love that moment when I open up a package and get to smell a new tea. Upon tearing it open today, the Yellow Flower tea lit up the room with this bright fragrance, very floral. The leaves are very fragrant, and I am very excited about this tea. This is pure green tea, with no additives, but it still smells very floral and fragrant. I am definitely looking forward to tasting this.

80C, 1 tsp Per cup, 2 min

This tea should probably should be 2 tsp per cup, because it's a bit too weak following Mighty Leaf's posted instructions to use 1 tsp per cup. But still very delicious, if faint.
Liquor is almost clear, palest yellow. But a very heady aroma, nevertheless: floral, bright, beautiful. The aroma rather reminds me of Green Hill Tea's version of Dragonwell-- quite intense with a nicely long finish. The flavor of this tea seems best when the cup is warm (rather than piping hot), and the lower-range aromas appear.

The company's Web site tells us,

Organic Yellow Flower green tea, is a handcrafted tea grown in China's Anhui province. Often called yellow bud or yellow flower, its slender green-yellow leaves yield a sweet, floral character and a yellow colored cup. With a clean and smooth taste this chinese tea will refresh and revitalize.

Anhui is a great tea-growing region of the world, and it shouldn't surprise us to find lovely teas coming from here.

UPDATE
The above was edited, thanks to an alert reader who let me know that Anhui and Anxi are, in fact, not the same thing. I was a victim of transliteration!

REVIEW: Narien Teas, Dragon Well

To say a cup of Longjing tea smells "grassy" is like saying a steak tastes "meaty." While true, it doesn't really convey much information.

I'm drinking the Dragonwell (Longjing) by Narien Teas today. Dragon Well is one of the ancient tribute teas, which were given to the Chinese emperors and were only to be drunk by his court. I'm exploring Longjing teas for the first time, and it's been very enjoyable.

Narien provided enough tea for me to try a few methods of preparation. The most interesting is:

For single cup brewing, fill a cup with about a tablespoon of Dragonwell tea leaves, then add steaming water. You want the water almost boiling in order to almost cook the tea leaves and infuse them into the water. After the leaves steep in the water for several minutes, you will notice some of the leaves will start to become turgid and sink to the bottom. This is when the tea is ready.

Traditionally, the leaves are not strained out, as they would continue to brew while you drink. Dragonwell can be enjoyed with a dash of sugar or even a bit of honey, but often the natural sweetness of the tea can be enjoyed without. The leaves generally can only be brewed once because the hot water cooks them, but you can squeeze multiple cups if the leaves do not steep too long and are brewed again within about an hour. The flavor will be a little sharper, similar to black tea, but a little sugar makes it taste just as sweet.

Well, I did try it this way, and the results were good, though I didn't quite know what to do with all the tea leaves floating at the top of the cup, which kept trying to get into my mouth. I'm sure the Chinese have thought up a very clever way of solving this conundrum. At any rate, it was fun to play with my tea leaves in a new way.

I also did create the tea in a teapot, 1tsp per cup. This made a more restrained cup of tea than did the method of leaving the leaves in the cup and drinking around them. I liked better the results from the more unusual preparation, though I wish I had figured out a good filtering mechanism to keep those leaves under control.

The tea itself: Transparent rich amber-gold color, rather deep in saturation, like the walls in a Tuscan villa. This tea is nicely aromatic, like grass! No, wait. Very slightly vegetal, and not really too floral. There's a slightly sweet honey to it, especially when it's quite hot.

(Dragon sculpture can be purchased at 1001Homes.co.uk.)