Twinings Lapsong Souchong and the Long, Gray February of the Soul

TWININGS: Teas That Fit Your Every Mood™, Particularly a Grumpy Cat Sort of Mood. 

Review: Tea Forté, Formosa Oolong '09

I didn't sleep last night, and I spent a big chunk of today outside, in the cold, at Goebbert's Pumpkin Farm, along with my baby girl and my little boy. Goebbert's is a farm that has gone the clever route of agritourism, in which they celebrate harvest with, among other things, the world's only Pumpkin-Eating Dinosaur, a haunted house, mazes, a couple giraffes (in north-central Illinois, no less), a pumpkin cannon, apple cider donuts, a cornstalk maze, and even pig races. (Hammy Faye Bacon won by a hair, incidentally.) The baby was warm because she was bundled emphatically, with all my bundling might; and my seven-year-old boy was racing around. So I'm the only one of the three of us who is cold and tired, and feeling just a bit old.

ANYWAY, to warm up and attempt to get through the long, dark afternoon of the soul, I am drinking Formosa Oolong by Tea Forté. It is in a clever nylon pyramid-shaped teabag, and I think the leaves within it are in pretty good shape.

THE LEAVES
Hidden within a tea bag, I can tell very little about their appearance. The steeped leaves have a pleasant enough, sweetly roasted aroma. I don't really think the nylon bag affected the aroma. The tea bags reside inside a pyramid-shaped card-stock paper wrapper, and they have a cute metallic string with a little leaf on the end. Stylish looking and neat. Typically, none of the teas I enjoy are distributed in tea bags, so I don't have much to compare this to.

THE PROCESS
I used just-under-boiling water (around 195 or so), in a covered, glass cup, for about 3 minutes. The Web site suggests 2-4 minutes, so I'm right in the zone.

THE CUP
A transparent, brown liquor with a roasty aroma. The flavor does not really work for me. I noticed an odd flavor note that makes me think of a paper bag. Now, I know that the nylon bag has nothing to do with this (not being made of paper, of course), but nevertheless there's something there I can't quite account for. Very light mouthfeel.

OVERALL IMPRESSIONS
I don't really want to belabor this review with the history of oolong, or the significance of Formosa tea-making practice, nor the proper place of teabags in the enjoyment of my favorite beverage. The thing is, I don't enjoy this tea, and I find I haven't finished the cup. I wonder if the paper packaging failed to protect these unfortunate tea leaves from off-flavors it might have picked up in transit or in storage. I'd be interested to taste this again, if I knew it was freshly packaged and stored in airtight foil. I don't think my leaves gave me the same experience that was had by the distributor when they first received their shipment from the tea farms in Formosa.

REVIEW: Earthbound Tea, White Mu Dan Peony

As I peruse my own writing on the subject, I find the oft-repeated thought that the white teas I drink typically are too light for my tastes and not complex enough to engage my interest. Well, that observation holds true yet again, this time with Earthbound Tea's White Mu Dan Peony.

For those new to the subject, a very quick overview: Bai Mu Dan is a grade of Chinese white tea. Now, every tea plant goes through the budding stage in early Spring (typically between March 15 and April 10), which makes marketing this type of tea very attractive to marketers, because white teas are experiencing something of a boom, with much interest in their health benefits. I won't examine health claims here, except to say it's probably good for you.

THE PREPARATION
I prepared the tea according to Earthbound's directions: 75C, 5 min+, using Great-Great-Grandmother's Japanese porcelain teapot. It's a bit thicker-walled than is useful for this type of tea, so I did leave the top off the pot to help it cool a touch, even though I fear that it lost a small amount of its already minimal aroma.

The Earthbound Tea Web site reads:

White Mu Dan Peony or "White Peony" is a rare tea that comes from the Fujian province in China. Only the tips and the beginning of the first two leaves are plucked. When infused, this tea has a unique nutty flavor that is mild and sweet.

THE LEAVES
Unfortunately, the leaves were rather damaged in transit, smashed into smallish pieces. I expect this would have an effect on the end product.

THE CUP
Pale, pale aroma and flavor. Yes, the characteristic peony aroma is present in my mouth, and the huigan [sweet aftertaste] is pleasant enough. But there's not enough there, there. I do wonder if the tea hadn't suffered so much in the mail service, if it would have tasted better in the cup. That being said, because I want as much depth and complexity of flavor as I can find in a cup, this is simply not enough to command my attention. However, if you value a very light, clean, lightly floral, airy cup of tea, this might just do the trick for you.

White Peony image above, by Teresa Boston.

Review: Simpson & Vail, Kenya Oolong 2008

Simpson & Vail. I rather like the cut of their jib. They are a fairly mainstream tea company who make the interesting choice to offer oolongs from unusual-- i.e., not Chinese-- sources, such as Vietnam, or in this case, Kenya.

Kenya is one of the biggest sources of tea worldwide. Most of the tea I see from them is commoditized-- it is sold to be blended into grocery-store brands, and the teas are not typically single-estate self-drinkers, intended to be unique vintages. Usually, the black teas from kenya are fairly robust. So when I see a Kenya Oolong, to be distributed by Simpson & Vail, I am intrigued. What in the world is this going to taste like?

THE TEA

Simpson & Vail has this to say on their Web site:

This delightful offering from Kenya features a new taste sensation in the world of Oolongs! The tippy, brown-black, medium sized leaves brew to a golden cup with an earthy aroma and a fresh, bold, slightly citral flavor. Brew tea at 195º - steep for 4-5 minutes

.

THE PREPARATION

I tried two methods of preparation: First, I did a gong-fu preparation (really, gong-faux, because I don't have all the gaiwans and Yixing pots one would ordinarily use). Then I followed the directions on the Web site. You will see below my results.

THE LEAF

This tea's leaf appears to be like a very typical, medium- to high-end black tea: smallish leaves, most certainly CTC (cut-tear-curl machine processed). The tea factory employed a machine to process the leaves, and they created a highly oxidized, nearly black, leaf.

THE GONG-FAUX FLIGHT

1 10s, rinse

2 25s

This cup seems most like a malty black tea, and is quite unlike the Chinese and Taiwanese oolongs I've been tasting of late. It's fairly ascerbic, and seems to want a bit of milk and sugar to cut it. The tea is a bit on the acidic side for my stomach, which is complaining. Interestingly, there is quite a bit of tea oil floating on the darkish-brown liquor, making it quite shiny. There is a faint hint of oolong-ness, though. I'll keep up with the next steeping and see where this goes. So far, honestly, I am not really liking this very much, as it tastes quite like a typically harsh, grocery-store black tea to me.

3 20s

The second steeping, shows me the leaf a bit better, as it reconstitutes. The leaf appears now to be maybe 60% oxidized: green at the centers of some of the larger leaves, but the overall visual impression tends more to the reddish-brown. The leaves have a pretty nice aroma of

The liquor maintains the deep brown (but transparent) quality of the first steeping. There is just not much flavor here (maybe this means I should have steeped for the full 4 minutes, rather than trying gong-fu method for this tea). The tea is just... flat. The bitterness has abated somewhat on the second steeping, but the flavor has not picked up where it left off.

4 20s

The flavor remains as it has for the previous steepings, and doesn't seem to be abating at all. Still like a black tea that is not particularly inspired. I quit, because I am not liking these results at all and want to abandon this preparation style.

. . .

AS AN EXPERIMENT, and a bit dispirited by the failure of my multiple-steeping method, I am now drinking the tea per the Web site instructions. It is better than the gong-fu style. There is a woodiness about it that is pretty appealing (at least, compared to the tea flight I was just attempting). A little sweetness to the aftertaste, and I detect a bit of nuttiness. ("Oh, I'm detecting nuttiness, all right," says the rat from Ratatouille, whose voice lives in my head.)

OVERALL IMPRESSIONS

Meh. This is not the tea for me, because though it is supposed to be an oolong, it seems more like an average "black tea," which you might find in a grocery store anywhere. I've tried to enjoy it by employing a couple of different preparation methods, but I just can't.

REVIEW: Xiao Tuo Cha, Red Leaf Tea

Today I type with cuts on my index finger and thumb on the left hand, which makes the letters t, f, g, r, b, and v rather difficult to achieve. I was opening a container of tortellacci, which are indistinguishable from tortellini except for the presence of an -acci at the end, and I cut myself. Being thus disabled, and dealing with the grotty remnants of a Nyquil hangover, and a fussy but temporarily sleeping baby nearby, I naturally thought to do something complex. So, pu-erh! I think I will review both the tea and its effectiveness in driving away the grunged-up feeling in my skull this morning. And if an occasional g is dropped, please have mercy on my cut finger.

Xiao Tuo Cha, Red Leaf Tea

This is what you'll find on the Red Leaf Tea Web site:

Description:

Xiao Tuo Cha Pu-erh tea provides a novel drinking experience by way of the tea leaves which are compressed into "bird's nests" and subjected to an aging process that imparts it with a distinctive earthy flavor. Known to many for its reputed weight reduction properties, Xiao Tuo Cha Pu-Erh comes individually wrapped and are ideal for families or single large servings. This tea is oxidized slowly, which explains its richer, deeper, flavor, qualities which only seem to get better and more intense with age!

THE LEAVES
The pu-erh is compressed into a tiny bird's nest shape (which is the meaning of the term, tuo cha), of very tiny leaves. Typically, tuo cha are not made of the highest-grade pu-erh leaves, so I chose to do two washes of 20s each to help clear the cobwebs, so to speak. As I rinsed, I noticed that quite a lot of tiny leaf matter made it past the built-in strainer on Great-Grandma's porcelain Japanese pot, into the secondary strainer below. Not quite dust or fannings, perhaps, but very tiny.

THE GONG-FAUX PU-ERH FLIGHT
Because I don't have all sorts of Chinese gaiwan or Yixing pots, I make do with what I have, trying to achieve the wabi-sabi relaxed preparation style anyway. I am doing a number of steepings, about 10-20s each, with two 20s rinses to start.

10s
The first steeping produces an opaque black brew, with a nice burn to the back of the throat, and a high note of berry, which is riding over the top of the rather smooth woodiness. Grottiness in my head is beginning to abate, slightly, and I don't feel as though I'm typing in such a fog. The letter g is still not wanting to appear when I type it, and I need to keep repeating every time I hit that letter.

15s
Second steeping was accompanied by baby waking up and fussing. Makes a proper pu tasting a bit questionable. But what is wabi-sabi about, but an embrace of the perfections hidden within the imperfections? I'm happy the baby is up, though my attention may now wander a bit from its intense (though bleary) focus on the pu. The liquor is a bit more transparent, just a bit. The wet leaves are waking up to a mild spiciness. Taste is not very strong, but it does have a bit of bitterness that is off-putting to my wife, who thought it could use a bit of sugar to smooth the rough edges.

10s
This steeping is significantly more transparent than before, and the bottom of the cup can now be discerned. Thus far, I've not been too excited by the flavor of this pu, but I'm willing to keep steeping to see where this goes. Starting to wake up, and was sufficiently alert to discuss the idea of Qi, and whether there's anything to it. This steeping is quite a bit smoother than previous, as well, with a hint of sweetness and a faint burn in the throat. Liquor at the bottom of the white cup now displays a nice reddish-brown. Some small amount of leaf dust has made it past two filters into my cup.

20s
Nicely transparent cup. Sufficiently awake to make breakfast. Is it the caffeine, or is it the Qi? Either way, being awake is no longer a bother. The flavor of this pu is slightly woody, and the bitterness has gone out of the cup. There is a blueberry or such astringent berry flavor hiding up inside the rafters, peeking out. Now I understand why reviewers of pu-erhs have such an odd assortment of steeping lengths: Basically, counting to 15 or 20 in your head combine with little life moments that mean that getting a tea to pour at a precise moment is not terribly likely, and it's a bit of a pain to achieve anyway. So why bother? If a pu-erh flight is a chore because it's impossible to maintain precision, then I'm probably missing the point entirely.

25s
Transparent, amber-brown cup. Awake enough to now remember that I have a seven-year-old boy, as well as the baby mentioned earlier. He's making a fort in the living room and is starting to require attention, too. The leaves in the pot are mildly fragrant, slightly spicy, but difficult to discern specific nose-references. (To hyphenate or not to hypenate? That-is-the-question.) The subtle flavors are starting to announce themselves, though they are quite restrained. I'll stop here, because I don't want to keep drinking it as it becomes even weaker.

OVERALL IMPRESSIONS
I'm glad the caffeine or Qi have been sufficient in this cup of pu-erh to wake me up and let me feel refreshed enough to get started on the day. To be truthful, I'm glad this was not my first foray into pu, because I would have thought, "Meh. What's all the fuss about?" Though I was not the best test subject, what with noisy children, and demands of the day, and feeling as grotty as hell (there's that word again!) this morning, these tea leaves still seemed not to be very excited about going into the cup. My wife found it bitter and unexciting; I found it rather weak, insufficiently nuanced, and unexciting.

That being said: at about $2.50 per tuo cha, multiplied by 5 steepings with 2 teacups' worth of tea per steeping, we come to about a quarter per cup. Talking to a Chinese friend the other day, I was reminded that the Chinese-- inventors of the wonderful tea innovations-- don't always sit around drinking only the most ethereal of brews, which I as a Westerner dare not even contemplate. So it's certainly okay to drink a utilitarian cup of tea, and it doesn't always have to be a near-religious experience.

But I want to drink pu-erh not merely to wake up, but also to expand my tea-drinking horizons and excite my palate.


Note: no finger puppets were harmed in the making of this review.

REVIEW: Assam Mangalam, Tea Gschwendner

ASSAM MANGALAM

This is the second cup I wrote, "Meh," on the page. Didn't like it, wouldn't buy it again. But I'm glad to have tasted it!

LEAVES
The dry leaves were black, tightly wound, with golden stripes throughout. It was striking to see the dry leaves next to the previous Oolong, which had silver stripes on the leaves. Wet, the leaves took on a dark, rich brown color.

THE CUP
Drinking this, it took on a mahogany brown color. Apparently, it is considered a "self-drinker," which means it is a tea that has well-rounded quality and flavor and does not require blending. It had a very ordinary, black tea taste. Again, a bit like a Twinings blend or something. I believe that I'm noticing this flavor profile, because about 97 percent of all India teas come from Assam-- something like that; I'm not a numbers person-- whereas only a tiny proportion of the teas come from my favored Darjeeling.

Anyway, this tea definitely benefited from being paired with a tiny creme brulee, the sweetness of which helped me drink this very strong tea. Obviously, not my style.