TASTING A FIFTY-YEAR-OLD PU-ERH
One afternoon we visited a teashop in Dali, Yunnan, where we were treated to a tasting of tea scraped from a fifty-year-old pu-erh cake. Our tea mistress infused it in a small Yixing clay teapot. Thimble-sized cups of tea were passed around, and we enjoyed thirty reinfusions of this leaf without noticing any loss of flavor. In fact, when we reached the point that we could not drink any more tea, the leaf still had flavor to give.
A tea mistress prepares fifty-year-old pu-erh for serving (Yunnan Province, China).
THE BENEFITS OF PU-ERH TEA
Today, an occasional cache of old pu-erh cakes is discovered when a venerable Hong Kong teahouse or restaurant closes. These tea cakes, if properly aged, can fetch hundreds of dollars, as would the offerings in a fine wine cellar in the West. Chinese tea drinkers believe that pu-erh lowers blood cholesterol and prevents so-called bad cholesterol (LDL) from forming in the arteries. Researchers at Taiwan National University believe that pu-erh contains the same degree of beneficial, antioxidant catechins as green tea. Chinese people drink pu-erh after a heavy meal to aid with digestion and the metabolism of fats. Chinese women drink pu-erh to stimulate weight loss.
Villagers in Xishuangbanna also make sun-dried green teas from the large, broad dayeh tea leaves. Every Dai and Jinuo village has its own variation of these simple yet delicious teas, which are made by a simple process of de-enzyming the leaves, then rolling and quickly drying them in the sun. These teas are what the locals drink and are similar in appearance to leafy white teas but have a pleasant, mild lingering flavor that is slightly reminiscent of black tea.
But for connoisseurs willing to pay the price, nothing compares to the complexity and nuance of flavor experienced when drinking tea from an aged raw pu-erh cake. Teashops in and around Menghai and the capital city of Kunming feature a seemingly unlimited selection of cooked and raw pu-erh. We spied an eye-popping, desirable selection of cakes in fanciful shapes of discs, squares (fang cha), oversized mushrooms (which are sometimes called Camels Breath), rectangles (zuan cha), small melons, and tiny, individually wrapped miniature tuo cha that resemble hummingbird nests. Our great disappointment was that we could not manage to bring home a stunning, beautifully pressed and molded pu-erh that was shaped like a giant melon. Weighing perhaps more than forty pounds, this pressed tea would have no doubt made a terrific store display and conversation piece.
CHINA’S OOLONG TEAS (BLUE TEAS, CHING CHA, OR WULONG)
Oolong tea is highly revered in China, and to tea aficionados these sophisticated teas represent the pinnacle of much that is exotic, enticing, aromatic, flavorful, visual, captivating, and delicious about Chinese tea. Oolong fanciers can get carried away with the comparisons of various oolongs, finding never-ending joy in discussing the merits of Chinese versus Taiwanese oolongs, Wuyi Shan to Ali Shan, high-grown to low-grown, specificity of oxidation levels, and so on. Distinguished oolongs are less familiar to tea drinkers in the West than are China’s green or black teas, but Wulong Cha has been highly revered in China for centuries. Today, the tea is known as oolong, but its original name wulong translates into Dark or Black Dragon, a title once bestowed on the large, bulky dark tea leaves from the Wuyi Shan. This is also a possible deferential nod to the fact that the twist given to these magnificently shaped teas resemble the silhouette of the mystical Chinese dragon.
Fujian Province. A treasury of indigenous tea species, Fujian is the home of Chinese oolongs. Each of the famous oolong teas is named for the subspecies of bush from which the leaf is plucked. Production for oolong tea begins later in the spring than it does in green tea–producing regions—May versus March. For details of oolong tea production, please refer to “Oolong Tea” in chapter 3. When the Europeans came knocking on China’s door for tea in the early seventeenth century, Chinese historians now believe that these dark, large-leaf, heavily oxidized, nearly black wulong teas from Wuyi Shan were the teas that the Chinese shipped downriver to Canton and set sail for the Continent.
A classic Wuyi Shan landscape of clouds and mist (Fujian Province, China).
The Wuyi Shan, in northwestern Fujian, is a fairy-tale area of rocky limestone peaks, winding rivers, and lush, thick vegetation with steep roads and sheer cliffs. Atop the peaks the tea bushes are heavily shaded by clouds and mist, and feed on only several hours of sunlight each day. These teas are called “rock teas” or “cliff teas” in reference to the thin layer of soil that supports the growth of the tea bushes. Tea plants grow amid the rocks and crumbling rock shards of the disintegrating cliffs. These harsh and unforgiving conditions provide the plants with vital minerals and nutrients, supplying the backbone of flavor that these teas are famous for. Wuyi Shan is indeed a unique environment that produces tea no other place can duplicate.
Coupled with healthy air and cool, pure mountain water, these conditions have yielded tea that has quenched the thirst of scholars and the philosophical ideals of legions of artists, hermits, and monks. Wuyi Shan is a vibrant part of China’s tea culture, and one of the “routes of tea enlightenment” for those experiencing the way of Chinese tea. Wuyi Shan teas have always been associated with health and vigor. If plants have been able to survive and thrive in this threadbare soil for a thousand years, something beneficial must come of drinking this tea.
Like many other tea-producing places in China, not much has changed regarding how tea is made in the Wuyi Shan region. It is small—only thirty-five to forty square miles in total area—and production cannot increase because the space is so limited. Thus the tea remains as precious and rare as it was during the Ming dynasty. The best teas are still made the traditional way, by hand, by families in the tea business, from bushes cloned and now cultivated from the original species found there. Demand for these specialties far outstrips supply. The mystical and wondrous Wuyi Shan is home to the spectacular “rock” or “cliff” oolong teas, such as Bai Ji Guan (White Cockscomb), Da Hong Pao (Royal Red Robe), Golden Xuan, Huang Jin Gui, Roi Gui (Cinnamon Tea), Shi Ru Xiang (Melted Minerals), Shui Jin Gui (Golden Water Turtle), Shui Xian (Water Sprite), and Tie Luo Han (Iron Arhat). Rock teas grown within the Wuyi Shan origin-specific region are known as Ming Yan teas; those teas grown outside of the designated region are known as Dan Yan teas.
The season for oolong tea in Fujian is the same as for other Chinese teas. The tea bushes go dormant in the winter and return to life in the spring. Oolong teas are large-leaf teas and as a group, very distinctive in style. Some finished tea is long and twisted and features elegant leaves. Others are gnarly and bunched, as if they had been held tightly in someone’s fist. Some have a greenish-gray cast, others are flinty black, and several have a brownish hue. A number of oolongs from southern Fujian have zigzag bits of dried stem attached, a thrilling part of the lure of oolongs and a sure sign that the entire top leaf complex was snatched complete from the bush (as opposed to the careful plucking of a specific leaf or leaf and bud).
Oolong teas are often described as a cross between a green and a black tea, which is a poor attempt at describing these exquisite teas. Nor does that description do justice to the superb nature of these distinguished teas and the unique tea bushes from which all of the famous oolong teas are plucked. Oolong teas undergo a partial oxidation, which can vary from 10 to 80 percent, depending on the style of the tea favored in each region and the intentions of the tea maker. This broad oxidation range brings a remarkable number of delicious teas to market, featuring a range of styles and flavors. Lightly oxidized oolongs are fruity or flowery and aromatic. They are light brown and show tinges of green. Traditional, more fully oxidized oolongs have a dark, almost brooding appearance, and they have a deep, rich flavor with aromas that suggest wood and leather rather than flowers and vegetation.
A charcoal-firing station for basket-fired oolong, in Jian’ou (Fujian Province, China).
A tea worker prepares for a tasting of “rock” oolongs (Fujian Province, China).
Historically, Fujian oolong
teas have been baked or roasted over charcoal fires in bamboo baskets or rotating drums, but China’s new environmental concerns are changing that. Except for artisan-produced tea made by individual tea farmers or tea-farming villages, much of today’s oolong teas are dried in gas or electric ovens, which do the job but fail to influence the tea’s character in the same way that wood charcoal does. Nevertheless, roasting styles vary from light roasting to medium or dark. Lighter roasting is a more contemporary style and highlights the more floral nature of the leaf, while darker roasting, which is the traditional method, brings out a mellower, deeper, toastier flavor.
The time is here…
Let everything be happiness
through the door
Let this fragrance spread
happiness all over this place.
—A TRANSLATION OF SCRIPT WRITTEN AROUND THE DOORFRAME OF A TRADITIONAL CHARCOAL-FIRING TEA FACTORY IN JIAN’OU, FUJIAN, A TOWN ONCE FAMOUS FOR IMPERIAL TRIBUTE TEA
Many of the modern tea makers give their teas a lighter, greener oxidation, which gives the teas a fresh, exuberant style and an appealing range of fruity and flowery aromas. Perhaps this is just a contemporary change of heart from the once-favored heavily oxidized oolongs. Or it may be a complete reversal and return to what might have been the style of oolong tea first produced in the late days of the Ming dynasty (1368–1644), when Chinese tea makers began experimenting with this new type of tea in the mid-seventeenth century. No matter the style, the best oolongs are painstakingly handmade and replicate the old techniques of handpicking, hand-rolling, and charcoal-firing.
DA HONG PAO (ROYAL RED ROBE)
In this region of venerable teas, small clusters of sacred, ancient, wild-growing tea bushes still thrive in near-impossible to reach places atop the cliffs. Local legend believes that tea made from these bushes restored the health of a Ming dynasty official, who in gratitude honored the tea bushes by leaving his magnificent red cape behind to protect them.
Fortunately, cultivated tea bushes have been cloned from these ancient survivors and grow in nearby tea gardens. Da Hong Pao has large and commanding leaves, which curve just slightly with a twist, and are fired to a distinctive flinty black color. It is approximately 80 percent oxidized, making it one of the darkest of the Fujian oolongs. It is then charcoal-fired, which gives the tea a sweet aroma, a slight smoky tinge to the flavor, and a long, mellow finish.
At our hotel we got a tip about where to find some easily accessible wild Da Hong Pao tea bushes. We headed out immediately to the designated spot in a Wuyi Shan nature reserve. A nicely worn trail led us into the forest to an area between two massive rock outcroppings. We continued along the path, following the course of a stream, until we came to a series of stone steps that ascended the hillside along one side of the rocks. At the top of the steps we saw tea bushes, but nothing that resembled what we expected the Da Hong Pao bushes to look like. They were too full, too flush, too groomed, and too pampered looking. We were searching for rugged, untended plants, scrawny and thinly leafed.
We continued on, starting to doubt the advice. We found a little teahouse tucked in the woods around the corner from a small waterfall. Glad for a rest in the shade and a cup of tea, we selected a Wuyi Shan rock tea—an eight-year-old Rou Gui—to drink gong fu style. We chatted with the two women about their tea selections and admired the impressive rock wall facing the terrace of the teahouse. When we told them we were searching for Da Hong Pao tea bushes without any luck, they gave us a curious look and pointed our gaze back to the rock wall facing the teahouse.
There, just a short distance away, growing about thirty feet up the cliff face and clinging to the smallest outcropping of space, were six Da Hong Pao tea bushes. The woman told us that these bushes are about 360 years old, making them the lao cong (old tea bushes) that Wuyi Shan is famous for. The bushes were growing in partial shade, without much soil, but safe and happy amid the cracks and crevices of the rocky outcropping.
The color of oolong leaf is as varied as that of green tea, and the shapes are a stylish tribute to China’s artistic tea sensibility.
Oolong tea liquor yields a range of color, from russet to russet-orange, golden-green, amber-green, yellow-gold, and pure honey. Oolong tea should be reinfused numerous times; it is common for a fine Fujian oolong to infuse six to eight times in a Yixing teapot or twenty or more times in a gaiwan decanted into tiny gong fu cups. Remember, multiple infusions are essential for these large tea leaves to fully open to their majestic size. Gong fu tea service was created expressly to accommodate the brewing longevity of oolong leaf with its fine aroma and vibrant liquor.
Northern Fujian (Min-Bei) Province. This region produces the following tea: Min-Bei oolongs (which can feature flat leaf, open leaf, twisted leaf, or slightly folded leaf styles) and Si Da Ming Cong Wuyi Shan Rock Cliff oolongs (Bai Ji Guan, Da Hong Pao, Shui Jin Gui, and Tie Luo Han). These Si Da Ming Cong oolong teas are made from the four most famous Camellia sinensis bush varietals in the Wuyi Shan. These bushes are single-trunk oolongs, which means that the bushes are pruned to have only one central trunk bearing just a few branches. These bushes are thus encouraged to produce only a small quantity of large leaves (the opposite of the usual manner and desired effect of bush growth, with multiple trunks and plentiful small-leaf production).
Six three-hundred-year-old Da Hong Pao bushes in the Wuyi mountains (Fujian Province, China).
Southern Fujian (Min-Nan) Province. The Anxi region produces very interesting ball-rolled (not the wide, leafy style of Wuyi Shan) oolong tea. Two very different types of these teas are made in Anxi, each of which expresses a particular style: the Anxi Se Zhong oolongs and the Anxi Tieguanyin oolongs. Se Zhong is a term for oolong teas that are blended from the leaves of several different types of local tea bushes. Some of the more famous Se Zhong oolongs are: Golden Osmanthus (Huang Jing Gui), Hairy Crab (Se Zhong Mao Xie), Imperial Gold (Tou Tian Xiang), Orchid Oolong (Qi Lan), and Water Sprite (Se Zhong Shuixian).
Hairy Crab: This fragrant delicious tea is so named for the abundant fine hairs that appear on the backside of the leaves of this tea bush. These hairs are reminiscent of the stiff white hairs on the legs of the freshwater crabs known as “hairy crabs” that are beloved in this region of China and that come to market in the fall, coinciding with the last crop of the season of Hairy Crab tea. Slightly more oxidized than Imperial Gold, this ball-shaped rolled tea is extremely aromatic and floral, with overtones of minerals and stone.
Imperial Gold: The Chinese name for this ball-shaped rolled oolong means “fragrance throughout the sky.” It has a fragrance redolent of ripe melons, lilies, and honey.
Anxi Tieguanyin is one of China’s most famous teas—in fact, it is the quintessential Chinese oolong tea. Its method of manufacture offers Tieguanyin tea masters an opportunity to create a signature Tieguanyin flavor and aroma yet remain inside the broad dictates of the style. Tieguanyin is made from tieguanyin tea bush cultivars that are local to Anxi. Three main styles of Tieguanyin are produced.
Clear and fragrant Tieguanyin: This tea fired at a lower temperature for less time results in greenish-gold-colored leaves that possess fresh, herbaceous style with a clear, fragrant aroma and a mild flavor that is reminiscent of orchids (lan).
Traditional Tieguanyin: This dark-colored leaf is rich and toasty and features a persistent flavor and lingering aroma, and what the Chinese call gan, sweetness or a lack of astringency. Tieguanyin is an ideal tea for leisurely sipping or accompanying food or something sweet.
Wild Tieguanyin: Picked from wild-growing plants located on rocky hillsides in the vicinity of Xiping, these teas yield a fruity, leathery flavor with a concentrated, heady aroma.
Anxi: The Home of Tieguanyin. A drive through the main streets of Anxi reveals a city completely dedicated to tea; in fact, the locals proudly say that they are the tea capital of China. Anxi sports an abundance of teashops, ceramics shops, and other necessary auxiliary tea businesses such as bamboo tray and
basket makers, tea machinery repair shops, and so on. Almost every open-air storefront featured tea-sorting stations set up with anywhere from one to twelve women gathered around their tables and busy at work. The townships surrounding Anxi City in Anxi county and Yaoyan village, Songyong village, and Xiping village in Nanyan county are known for consistently flavorful and distinctive Tieguanyin tea. There are many representations of this tea produced by Fujian tea farmers in this area—more than two hundred have been reported. Locals say that the best teas come from mountaintops, where eastward-facing gardens receive more cooling breezes and gentle morning sun.
Tieguanyin or Ti Kuan Yin is legendary among oolong tea lovers. This tea is named for Kuan Yin or Guan Yin, the only female deity in the Chinese pantheon of deities. She is known as the Goddess of Mercy, believed to be the female incarnation of the many-armed compassion Buddha, Avalokitesvara. Ti, which means “iron,” is a reference to the iron jars that precious tea was once stored in. Legend has it that the Qing emperor Kangxi (r. 1661–1722) prayed to the goddess for the return of his health during a bout with smallpox. She answered his prayers and later appeared to him in a dream. In his dream she brought him to a place where the farmers were very poor but where a few tea bushes were growing on a mountainside. To repay her kindness, she asked him to help the people of this region cultivate these tea bushes and prosper from it in her name. Kuan Yin then showed the emperor that the leaves of these tea bushes bore a marked impression. He plucked one from the bush, after which the leaf bore the impressions of both of their thumbs. These two tiny marks have always distinguished the leaves of true Tieguanyin bush varietals. Emperor Kangxi proclaimed Tieguanyin famous for all eternity in China and from that time on the Tieguanyin tea industry has thrived. The Qing emperor Qianlong (r. 1736–1795) selected Tieguanyin to be one of his tribute teas.
The Story of Tea Page 18
