Lapsang Souchong tea has enjoyed worldwide fame and a renowned reputation for its distinctive character. The styles of the two Lapsang Souchongs are similar but different: the Taiwanese style is stronger and more heavily smoked; in fact, we have tasted some that can just about wrestle your tongue into submission. The Fujian version is milder and softer, however. Lapsang Souchong tea was reported to have been a favorite of cigar-smoking Winston Churchill. Its strong, substantial flavor goes nicely with hot, spicy food or when sitting around a cozy campfire.
A BRIEF HISTORY OF TEA NAMES
During the zenith of the China tea trade, European tea-buying representatives had the daunting task of communicating with the Chinese tea merchants. At that time China produced two types of tea—green tea for domestic consumption and black tea for export. Most of what was purchased by the Westerners was grown just north of the trading port of Canton. Eventually, green tea was exported also, and Westerners distinguished between the many varieties of these teas by naming them with corrupt transliterations of the Chinese names for the tea or for the places where the tea was from.
For example, the term bohea was used in reference to the dark, big-leaf teas from the Wuyi Shan. Singlo green tea designated that which came from the Songluo Mountains. Hyson was used in reference to tea picked in the early spring (xichun in Chinese). Gunpowder tea was so named by sea captains for its rolled shape (zhucha or “pearl tea” in Chinese). Eventually these terms became more exacting and used to reference particular teas, or they were replaced by names that identified the tea’s specific origin or classification.
On Zhen Shan Mountain, deep in the protected pine and bamboo forest of the Wuyi Mountain Forest Preserve, the small enclave of Xingcun Community still makes the historic, traditional Lapsang Souchong tea: Zhen Shan Xiao Zhong. We held our breath for days hoping that we would be granted permission to visit the Zhen Shan Xiao Zhong and Lapsang Souchong smoking sheds, admission to which is rarely allowed. We got the word that we were “in” late one night and were on our way just after dawn the following day. The journey to the production facility took us through lush forested areas of pristine, serene beauty. We were jolted back to reality when we reached the first of several gated guard posts along the way. There is an air of secrecy to the exact processing of Lapsang Souchong, as the Chinese still want to keep it under wraps. This intrigue harkens back to the days of the China tea trade, China’s attempts to keep their tea-processing techniques a secret from the West, and Robert Fortune’s subterfuge in the Wuyi Mountains. The tea is made in thirty-two villages that use special wooden smoking sheds, not the traditional cement and concrete tea-factory buildings, to produce this tea. These lovely old sheds reminded us of the wooden tobacco drying barns that dot the tobacco fields back home in our Connecticut River valley.
A traditional Lapsang Souchong smoking shed in the midst of a lush bamboo forest on a watershed-protected mountainside (Fujian Province, China).
Curiously, when we entered our first smoking shed, instead of being greeted with the usual organized chaos of workers busy with tea production, the room was empty. The early production of the finely crafted, traditional tea called Zhen Shan Xiao Zhong was already over for the year. Production of standard Lapsang Souchong would follow several weeks later. Usually thirty people work in each smoking shed, but this one would accommodate seventy workers. The wooden structures retained the distinctive aroma of years of accumulated pine smoke; the wooden boards inside and out have acquired a rich patina and have deepened into a lovely cognac brown.
Mr. Jiang Yuanxun, the owner of the tea company and fifteenth-generation heir to “The Noble Lapsang Souchong Tea-Producing Family,” explained that Zhen Shan Xiao Zhong is a special “tips only” pluck of early spring leaf collected from tea gardens located in the surrounding forest. This leaf is plucked by the villagers and carefully processed and smoked before it is fully dried. The tea production that would follow in a few weeks would be comprised of semifinished tea that had been plucked and partially processed elsewhere in the vicinity from larger, older leaf that is then brought to these smoking sheds to be smoked over a fire and given a final drying. In this second processing, there is a trade-off of price versus quality, as the tea produced in this latter manner will absorb more smoke and lose precious delicacy. These two methods of smoked-tea production yield teas that taste vastly different from one another and feature unique styles. The more expensive Zhen Shan Xiao Zhong is essentially cold-smoked, while Lapsang Souchong is hot-smoked; hence the difference in both flavor and price. Zhen Shan Xiao Zhong is rarely seen outside of China, and the Lapsang Souchong teas are more commonly offered for sale in the United States.
Zhen Shan Xiao Zhong is a perfect example of a zen jhen tea—tea from a boundary area whose terroir (the unique effect that soil and climate in a specific place has on products grown there), history, and unique processing techniques make it genuine, original, and “truthful” to a place and unable to be duplicated elsewhere. To Mr. Jiang, Zhen Shan Xiao Zhong is the “real Lapsang Souchong,” the historical tea that made Lapsang Souchong famous so long ago. Because of the short window of opportunity to pluck such small early leaf, not much of this tea is produced in a single season. Most tea lovers never have a chance to taste it or even learn of its existence.
Mr. Jiang Yuanxun presents his recently published history of Zhen Shan Xiao Zhong (Fujian Province, China).
Mr. Jiang served us cups of Zhen Shan Xiao Zhong, which we were anxious to taste. Before sipping the tea, we inhaled the delicious aroma, which tantalized us with delicate wafts of a lightly parched and smoky fragrance. The flavor was familiar yet refined, carrying a sweet undertone reminiscent of caramel and the best sugar-cured smoked Virginia ham. The small leaves and careful smoking yield a beguiling and exotic brew that is light-years away from the sometimes corrosive brew of the coarse-leaf, hot-smoked Chinese and crudely produced Taiwanese Lapsang Souchongs.
Sichuan Province. Sichuan is a mountainous region that features vast, remote areas of unspoiled natural beauty and wilderness as well as such large congested cities as Chengdu (the gateway to Tibet for those flying in from China) and the bustling autonomous municipality of Chongqing, the fourth-largest city in China and the starting point for Yangtze River cruises. About 30 percent of Sichuan’s teas are processed into black teas, 60 percent into green teas, and 10 percent into specialty teas like jasmine. Sichuan Province produces the black tea known as Imperial Sichuan (Zao Bei Jian). Another small-leaf, thin, and compact tea, this stunning tea is embellished with a small amount of golden tip. The presence of tip adds fullness and richness to the body of the tea and a slight suggestion of creaminess and maltiness to the flavor.
Tea grows high in the mountains far beyond the confines of the city of Ya’an, where the Sichuan Agricultural University is based. We spent an educational day here as guests of the tea professors. We had the opportunity to taste tea from several clonal varieties of tea bushes that had been developed by the local tea research center, and we listened to a presentation about the recent advances in organic tea production in Sichuan. The professors generously allowed time for us to have a question-and-answer period with them.
Sichuan also produces compressed brick teas, made from mature, coarse tea leaves and used for export to Tibet, Qinghai, and Tibetan-populated areas of Sichuan. These teas, while distinctly different from the aged, postfermented pu-erh teas of neighboring Yunnan, are slightly fermented (but not aged) in order to help Tibetan tea drinkers better digest the proteins in the meat that they consume in their essentially vegetable-less diet. Two other brick-style teas are made for use in temple offerings and for use during festivals.
Yunnan Province. The tip of northwestern Yunnan touches on the Tibetan Himalaya, and in the south it shares a border with Myanmar, Laos, and Vietnam. This is only one example of the contrasts that comprise the province of Yunnan. It is a vast region with spectacular scenery, vivid blue sky, and a multitude of ethnic minorities and ancient culture
s far removed from the bureaucracy of Beijing. Yunnan’s food is mild, while neighboring Sichuan’s is tantalizingly aromatic and fiery. But some of China’s most interesting and flavorsome tea comes from Yunnan, many of which have a fascinating history and story to tell.
Yunnan black teas are lush, thirst-quenching treats that are worth the search. Consider yourself blessed by Sheng Nung if you find a supply of Yunnan Buds of Gold or Yunnan Golden Needles—both are made from an indigenous variety of large, broad-leaf tea bushes and trees found in this part of Yunnan. Known to locals as dayeh and classified by botanists as a subvariety of Camellia sinensis var. assamica, dayeh produces lush, full-flavored tea, the leaves of which are a golden-russet color before and after brewing. As in Fujian Province, dozens of varieties of Camellia sinensis are found growing in this region. But the dayeh teas are made from old-growth trees (not bushes) that grow naturally in the jungle and forest ecosystems. If you look at the leaves after they have been infused, you will see that the leaves are large and intact. Yunnan Buds of Gold and Yunnan Golden Needles are among the highest grades of Yunnan black tea and are comprised of long tips, which yield an exquisite creamy and malty, sweet-liquoring tea with almost no bite. These teas top our best black tea list.
In the hot and steamy southwestern corner of Yunnan, the tropical region known as Xishuangbanna is home to pu-erh tea. Oddly enough, no pu-erh tea is made in the town of Pu-erh, but the town was important as a distribution and collection point and the beginning of the Tea Horse Route for those about to embark on the long journey north and westward. Pu-erh is one of China’s most unusual teas, with a legendary history and venerable reputation.
Once rarely known outside of Yunnan, pu-erh came to be admired and collected by wealthy Hong Kong and Taiwanese businessmen. Today, the tea is having a resurgence of interest with a new audience of tea drinkers in Japan, Southeast Asia, Europe (especially France and countries throughout Eastern Europe), and America. Pu-erh aficionados worldwide are driving up the price for these teas; pu-erh collectors are now able to find interesting examples at high prices for sale in the United States, although most of the very aged and thusly expensive pu-erh is still in Asia.
Xishuangbanna enjoys a mild climate that is conducive to early spring harvest teas that begin production in late February. Yunnan tea does not grow in abundance as do the teas in eastern China, and although much Yunnan tea is cultivated from clonal varieties developed from the indigenous plants, many of the distinctive teas of Xishuangbanna are produced from large, broad-leaf tea bushes. This region is primarily mountainous, interspersed with dense junglelike forests, broad terraced hillsides of vegetables and cultivated tea, and large sweeping valleys that contain twelve natural “basins” where rice is grown.
In this tropical region of Yunnan many of the dayeh tea bushes are actually tea trees that have been producing tea for hundreds of years. These enormous trees—many of which have grown twenty to thirty feet tall—are found in a geographic area that encompasses the towns of Simao, Lancang, Menghai, and Jinghong. This region is home to twelve tea mountains. Six of these are located north of the Lancang (Mekong) River: You Le, Ge Deng, Yi Bang, Mang Zhi, Man Zhuan, and Man Sa. Six others are located south of the river: Nan Nuo, Jing Mai, Meng Hai, Ba Da, Nan Qiao, and Meng Son.
MAKING ARTISAN PU-ERH
In village tea factories we observed stone-pressed pu-erh cakes being shaped with stone weights. Primary tea is put inside of a sock-shaped cloth and pressed flat in the bottom of a large tin can. The tea is lightly steamed, then removed from the form and placed under the first in a series of large stone weights. Each stone weighs slightly more than the previous one. The bottoms of each stone are carved in a slightly concave manner to form the disc shape. Each disc is removed from beneath one stone and placed under the stone beside it in musical-chairs fashion. When the cake is removed from the last weight, the tea is fully shaped and compacted and ready to be wrapped in paper and sent to market.
A tea worker pushes a cart of pu-erh to the aging room (Yunnan Province, China).
The village yields as many tea cakes as there are stone weights in the series and in as many days. In contrast, in the government-operated tea factories, metal molds and machine hydraulics are used to shape and compress hundreds of discs a day. Either way, the tea is traditionally marketed as a stack of seven paper-wrapped cakes. Each stack is wrapped in bamboo leaf and packed nine stacks to a basket. We were told that there were seven kingdoms in this region during the Qing dynasty, hence each cake reflects one kingdom.
Compressed pu-erh tea comes in myriad shapes.
Hidden away in these forests, locals report the existence of tea trees that are five hundred and a thousand years old, including a seventeen-hundred-year-old tree named the King of Tea Trees, which lives on Nan Nuo Mountain.
Eight of China’s fifty-six recognized groups of ethnic minorities live in Jinghong county in Xishuangbanna Dai Autonomous prefecture: the Dai, Hani-aini, Ake, Miao, Yao, Bulang, Lahu, and Jinuo peoples. Here the ancient tea trees are a living legacy for the villagers, who climb up into the trees to reach the leaves. These broad tea leaves are used to make genuine pu-erh tea and our organic sun-dried Sunshine green tea.
Pu-erh is sold as loose-leaf tea or in compressed discs or bricks (zhuang cha), and understanding the differences in pu-erh seems complicated at first. The distinctions are not easy to grasp without some explanation, and many variables come into play in its manufacture. Both styles of pu-erh come in either raw (sheng) or cooked (shou) versions. These terms have no equitable definitions; think of them as loosely akin to green versus black tea. Loose-leaf pu-erh is made in eleven grades of quality and can be aged for decades, providing a multitude of taste experiences.
Historically, for convenience, pu-erh was compressed to make it less bulky for the horse caravans to transport as they trekked across the rugged Himalaya. Two distinct trading routes to Tibet developed in China—one in southwestern Yunnan near the town of Pu-erh, and the other from northern Sichuan Province. These routes eventually met in eastern Tibet and merged into one. Pu-erh cakes continued to be made after these trading days, and the emphasis changed to focus on the fact that cakes keep and improve with age under the right storage conditions.
The leaf used to make both cooked and raw pu-erh cakes is sun-dried leaf from the local tea trees that has undergone de-enzyming, rolling, brief steaming, and final-firing. Once the processing reaches this point, the leaf is postfermented in dry storage. To achieve the distinctive flavor and aroma of pu-erh, the tea is heaped into piles and a controlled amount of moisture is introduced to the leaves. As the bacterial process begins to affect the nature of the tea, the piles are carefully turned and monitored as heat begins to generate within the pile. The heat combined with moisture encourages the natural bacterial fermentation integral to the tea’s character and flavor.
Raw ching bings (green cakes) are made according to a simple but effective process in which dried tea leaves are steamed lightly before being pressed. This little bit of moisture encourages the natural bacteria present in the leaves to slowly continue developing within the disc as it ages. Raw, green pu-erh can be made from any of the quality grades of loose-leaf pu-erh, or a combination of leaves.
Weighted stones are used to form and compress artisan-fabricated, biscuit-shaped beeng cha (Yunnan Province, China).
Newly pressed raw green cakes are not ready for immediate consumption. They must be stored in a warm, moisture-controlled environment to rest and age. During aging, the raw cakes darken in color and slowly evolve into mature cakes that possess the characteristic mellow, beefy, and toasty flavor that pu-erh lovers seek. The quality of the leaf, the precision of the fermentation, the steaming, and the success of the aging results in a good product. At seven to ten years of age the cakes begin to get pricey. If left undisturbed, the cakes will be well on their way to becoming venerable thirty-year-old cakes worth hundreds of dollars apiece. Part of the fun of owning a cache of aging cakes is c
hecking on the progress of the tea from time to time by scraping off just enough tea to make a small pot and observing and appreciating its changing flavor.
Beeng cha curing on aging racks (Yunnan Province, China).
The other type of pu-erh cake—the ripe, black “cooked” variety—is a new variation begun in the 1970s as a response to tea drinkers’ demand for pu-erh that could be consumed sooner. The dried green tea leaf is lightly steamed just before being pressed. In the government-run tea factories, highly skilled workers grab fistfuls of tea leaves from various baskets surrounding their workstations and layer the tea leaf in a certain order before the tea is quickly steamed and then pressed into the mold. This ensures that the better-looking leaf shows on the outside of the tea cake, while the coarser, less attractive leaf is tucked on the inside. After shaping, one additional step is added. The cakes and classic, bowl-shaped tuo-cha pu-erhs are set on racks in heated chambers with moist, circulating steam and allowed to oxidize and darken in color. These quick-ripened pu-erhs supply the marketplace with reasonably priced, affordable pu-erh, which can also be cellared and aged to improve flavor if desired, but most cakes are no doubt consumed right away.
The Story of Tea Page 17
