Hey, You Should Drink This Tea

May 26, 2016

I want to start this post with a simple disclaimer: ‘If you enjoy a tea, then enjoy it.’ This post is not an attempt to fling mud at anyone in particular in the tea industry or to disparage any personal preferences. It is an attempt to convey some of my personal standards for how I buy tea, both to collect and sell, and why I make the decisions that I do. I have been meaning to write this post for some time, however the sheer daunting amount of exceptions, anomalies, and variations have made it difficult to compose a singular reliable monologue about the topic. So I hope to cover the basics and then some, with an open invitation for others to critique and expand upon the topic.

A good place to start is to note that there are so many different types of tea in the world that some of them are hardly even comparable. It can become very difficult to use things such as the appearance of leaf, or liquor color to judge the quality of a tea unless a specific context is had. This illustrates my first point: it is all about context. I would like to de-emphasize the importance of personal preference in this discussion. That may sound counter intuitive to an idea of connoisseur-ship, but I would encourage everyone who wants to experience a product like tea to open their mind to a worldview larger than themselves. Trust me, there is still plenty of room for personal favorites. An approach of simply looking for favorites alone is a bit too myopic to me. Instead I suggest that there is not really such a thing as a ‘good tea’ but rather there are ‘good examples of a tea’. This is a little abstract, but consider that a type of tea, based on; where it was grown (terroir), sub-varietal of the tea plant used, and category of processing method, has the potential to elicit a certain set of flavors (including 回感 HuíGǎn & 生津 ShēngJīn), fragrances (香气 XiāngQì ), mouthfeel (口感 KǒuGǎn), throatfeel (喉韵 HóuYùn), and body sensations (体感 TǐGǎn & 茶气 CháQì). And indeed, beyond their potential factors there are attributes that are expected, with some degree of consensus, to be present in a tea. To me the most exciting teas are ones that encompass their category’s potential AND have a surprising, enjoyable unique element to them.

This context is important to my discussion of tea because it informs why I try to set the precedent that I do for looking at a type of tea. If I taste a blended tea (exceptions for pǔ'ěr factory formulas that I will mention later) or a tea that is unlabeled all I can really tell you is if I find the tea pleasant or unpleasant. Perhaps I can pick up on where the material is from or how it was processed if it is part of my experiences in the past. But honestly, I feel like it is almost a tragic waste. Without a proper context the analysis of the tea pretty much stops there. In addition to this the value of the tea is basically arbitrary and simply determined by the marketing of the tea and the personality put into its late stage branding. However if a tea has context it opens many more avenues by which to understand and appreciate it. What I mean by context is perhaps best explained through aforementioned vectors of varietal, terroir, processing, and age. Together they can grant us a platform to work from.

There is a concept that is not mutually exclusive to age and processing that generally answers the question of “how dark is the tea and why?” There are a few different ways to think of this last topic. The level of oxidization of a tea can be expressed by a percent and can be very useful when understanding where a tea is at. However it is not the only consideration, for example: If I say that a pǔ'ěr tea is at %90 oxidization that could mean two fundamentally different things. On one hand it could be processed, usually with a method called ‘wet pile’ (渥堆 WòDuī) where a fast fermentation of the tea leads to a very dark (high % oxidization) tea right away. The other is that it has been aged and the phytobacterium on the leaf has slowly darkened the tea. Shú (cooked) pǔ'ěr generally tastes like the pile and can take a few years to off-gas some of the undesirable artifacts of that production. Shēng (raw) pǔ'ěr can be aged in overly humid climates leading to undesirable, pile like, flavors as well. Generally it is considered better for the tea to be aged slowly in a “dry” environment. (Yes, fellow pu-nerds this is hyper simplified I know, I know…) The point of this is that % oxidization alone is not enough, you also have to know how the tea was processed and in the case of pǔ'ěr how old it is and what conditions it was stored under; if you want to be able to establish a context. There are plenty of other examples about this for other types of tea. If I were to say that a wūlóng was at a higher % oxidization it could be brought to that point from anaerobic aging or from being leafhopper bitten and have no “roasted” flavor It could be also be charcoal roasted (碳焙 TanBei) or baked in an oven both with very different effects on the end flavor. I personally find some types of roasted wūlóng that has been traditionally charcoal roasted to not have the same characteristics I like when baked. So when I go to buy that type of tea, I try to be open to trying more modern forms, but I generally look for information on the method to find what I want. Another way to view this is the Chinese concept of fermentation (fājiào 酦酵). This is more of a categorical way of viewing ranges of oxidization. Generally when we hear the word fermentation in english we think of the process of yeast turning sugar into alcohol. However in this case that is not what is taking place. With tea the hyper simple way to think of it is that catechins are converted (through several variant means) into different catechins, generally in the form of longer phenol chains. Ok, I admit that does not sound so hyper simple after all but that’s as simple of an explanation I can think of.

The next important factor is where the tea was grown and what type of varietal it is. This gets quite a bit more complex, because many wonderful teas use several harvests together either from different regions/ mountains or from different seasons harvests. With pǔ'ěr often times tea is stored uncompressed for some time before being pressed into cakes/ bricks. Earlier I briefly mentioned factory formula teas that are denoted with 4 digit codes (Ex. 8582 - 1985 creation of the blend - 8 leaf grade - 2 Menghai factory region or lineage) This is a more accessible commonly known pǔ'ěr blending strategy. In these cases there are still particular norms to the flavor of a formula (8582 for example generally has a pine note when it is earlier on in the aging process) So in these cases blended teas are best seen as good or poor examples of the formula. Something like storage conditions could be a factor post-production that could ‘make or break’ a tea. Something like the level of age induced oxidization (in the case of pǔ'ěr this is the process of phytobacterium ‘fermenting’ the tea) would be more a factor on preference of the consumer. I want to take a brief moment to caveat here that pǔ'ěr tea is good to drink at any age. It requires different brewing techniques to make it well at various ages and might have an age range that you personally prefer, but keep in mind that different people have different preferences and that generally different factors in raw materials and processing make a tea better at different ages. I would encourage anyone reading this to question the expertise of anyone who claims that young pǔ'ěr tea is categorically somehow undrinkable. It is a highly convenient claim, however rare, when someone wants to sell easier to source and more expensive tea.

The main implication of viewing tea through the context that I am writing about is that through this lens, a certain method for buying and collecting tea emerges. Something that is unlabeled, blended, or heavily re-marketed is seen as undesirable. A tea for which you can identify the mountain of origin, the specific plantation or factory, the season of harvest, the method of production, and the level of oxidization can be compared to others in a much more meaningful way creating a more meaningful analysis of quality.

I will note that some categories are increasingly easy to claim without much of a material reality behind them. An idea like ‘old tree’ (Gǔ Shù - 古树) or ‘wild’ tea are not only frequently lied about but also can imply very diverse things. If there was a plantation that was abandoned for 50 years and then harvested from or reclaimed that tea would be very different than tea from tea plants found in the forest, not planted intentionally by humans. Both of those teas could be labeled as ‘wild’ tea. Same thing with larger labels like pǔ'ěr, which is legally defined by being grown in Yunnan. However, both historically and currently, the sought after tea is grown in Xīshuāngbǎnnà (西双版纳) in southernmost part of the province. Tea grown north of there, in different soil, climate, and conditions can be legally called pǔ'ěr. So where do make a meaningful distinction outside of legal contexts for us as consumers? Do we value tea grown in Líncāng the same as that grown on YìWǔ? (Easy answer, no) Does it even matter if the tea is pile fermented? These are questions we should ask ourselves when we want to get to know a type of tea. Questions that I would argue can not be answered, even for ourselves, if we do not have a context to view our tea in.

The other factor that can trump all others in terms of quality is the maker. Sometimes even a lower quality raw material can be made into a great tea if put into the hands of a master. Getting to know a specific maker and their tea can be a little hard the further removed you are from the production of the tea. However if you are lucky enough to have a trusted source for tea or use a reputable online vendor, I would recommend investigating who made your favorite teas and exploring other teas made by that same person. Keep in mind that makers can even switch plantations or factories.  

In conclusion here is a little guide of questions to think of when looking into buying a tea:

Where, specifically, was the tea grown and when?

Who produced the tea?

What is the varietal of tea plant used?

What is the processing technique?

If the tea is aged, for how long and under what conditions?

Once this context is established:

Have you had other tea from this category/ context?

If not take careful note, and build your personal context.

What are the specific markers for quality in this category and how does this tea fair according to these factors?

How does this tea compare to others from the category in taste/ fragrance/’feels’?  

How does it compare in appearance?

How does it compare in price to similar teas?   

If it is highly variant, why?

This is a question that the person you are buying the tea from should be able to answer with transparency. Don’t let someone take you by telling a mystical fairy tale about the tea either. There should be a legitimate reason. If they say it is organic, can they prove that with a legal label of the tea? Some legal labels or quality assurance do require significant means for the producer and generally lead to higher prices. Keep in mind that with a little know how you can sometimes look up the manufacturer of a tea and actually see what their recommended retail of a tea is. However for both these factors keep in mind that some small productions of tea will have neither of these things available, will cost more, and sometimes have big price tags due to rarity; AND can be amazing teas.

Free Kindle Books for Tea Lovers

I did the unthinkable this morning; I made a silent pact with myself that I’d be up by 6AM. There was a full box of new teas I needed to start getting to, and – by golly – I was going to start whittling that number down. Even if it took me all Fall.

Unfortunately, the first thing I picked out of said box was an item that was already sold out. Another silent pact I wanted to make with all six of you readers was that I wouldn’t cover an item that you couldn’t get your hands on. Well, as in life, there are exceptions. An ancient tree black tea is definitely one of those exceptions.

White 2 Tea got a hold of a 2014 harvest of this stuff. Usually, “Old Arbor” tea trees are reserved for pu-erh production. But sometimes, an industrious local decides, “Let’s futz with this next batch.” And that’s what happened here, a “hong cha” (red tea) made from their usual pu-erh stock. The difference – fully-oxidized instead of kill-greened for enzymatic change … I think? They weren’t specific on that part.

The leaves themselves looked like sheng pu-erh, save for the fact that they were dark brown instead of faded green. And the presence of gold-tipped leaves also furthered the black tea argument. The smell they gave off was both herbal and malty. Quite bizarre. I’d only ever tried one black tea made from pu-erh stock before, and the scent was similar.

Per ADAMENT (like, “sacred pact” adamant) instructions on the website, I brewed this gongfu style. Well … mostly. I didn’t do a full 6 grams of leaves. Instead, I opted for my usual “gongfoolish” approach – about a teaspoon of leaves in a 6oz. gaiwan with boiled water. Thirty second steeps for the first two tries, forty for the third and beyond.

For the first three infusions, the liquors were roughly the same color – a medium copper to rusty brown. The steam aroma was like a lot of Yunnan black teas, sweet and slightly woody. The taste, though …

While clearly a black tea from Yunnan, there were some marked differences. Along with the wood and malt factor, there was also a floral underpinning, which completely negated any of the usual black tea astringency. As in, there was NO astringency to speak of. The shorter, lighter steeps probably also played a factor in that, but overall the experience was like drinking a pu-erh with a deeper profile. Some stonefruitiness also showed up in the aftertaste. And to close this long-winded coverage, it’s TeakuTuesday again!

No, that never gets old.

Sign of the Times | A Question of Taste

Perhaps lazy summer days simply conjure understatement, but suddenly fancy kitchens and the hyper-styled meals they produce feel overcooked.

My latest project is The Year of Tea, a daily, short-burst podcast where I review one tea each episode.

Some teas will be great. Some teas will really suck. But in the time it takes you to brew a fresh cup, my hope is that I’ll show you something new that you’ll want to try. (In other words, pretty much every episode is less than 5 minutes.)

I’m still working on the full site, and the podcast is not yet approved in iTunes since they’re on break, but you can check out the first two episodes here: http://theyearoftea.simplecast.fm

New episodes come out every day at 8am ET.