Wuyi Oolongs

Oolong teas from the Wuyi mountain region of Northern Fujian province, China, are generally known as "Yen Cha" or "Yan Cha," which means "rock" or "crag" tea, in reference to the famous mountains, crags, and rock cliffs where the tea plants traditionally grow. They are renowned for their unique characters, rarity, and accessibility. In fact, the most famous Wuyi Rock Tea--Da Hong Pao (Big Red Robe)--is currently one of two oolong teas on the China Ten Famous Tea list. In fact, the Wuyi region has such a rich tea production history that it has its own "famous tea" list, the Si Da Ming Cong, which refers to the four most famous Wuyi teas (as both cultivars and finished teas). They are Da Hong Pao, Shui Jin Gui (Golden Marine Turtle), Tieluohan (Iron Warrior Monk), and Bai Ji Guan (White Rooster's Crest). Two of the other most well-known Wuyi Rock Teas are Shui Xian (Water Sprite) and Rou Gui (Cassia Bark). Oolong production in the Wuyi mountain region is so dominant that it makes up about 80% of the region's output. Black teas (like the famous Lapsang Souchang) make up 14% and the rare but sometimes high-quality green Wuyi teas make up only 6%.

As with most famous teas, the highest quality Wuyi teas place equal importance on the cultivars that the leaves come from and the processing methods used to produce them (for a very interesting two-part article about the history of the Da Hong Pao cultivar, read Guang Lee's excellent two part article on the Hou De blog: Part 1, Part 2). In reference to my introductory oolong entry, Wuyi oolongs are typified by their oxidation and roasting; in general they are highly-oxidized and roasted with medium- to high-fire for long periods of time, giving them a characteristic roasted, warming flavor. Premium Wuyi oolongs offer a balance between this roasting character and delicate floral, herbal, fruity, and other aromas and flavors that unfold with each steeping. Lower-grade Wuyi oolongs tend to be dominated by the roasted character due to low quality leaves or unskilled roasting abilities, so it may be difficult to tell the difference between different types. If you've tried a few Wuyi oolongs and are of the opinion that they all taste the same, rest assured that this is not the case and there are Wuyis out there that can really blow your expectations away and justify their reputation!

To offer an example of a Wuyi oolong, I've shared pictures of a nice mid-grade Da Hong Pao that we sell at Miro Tea. In this first picture (click to enlarge), you can see that the leaves have been rolled into long, curly shapes. This is called "stripe rolling," and is typical of most (if not all) Wuyi oolongs. Another thing to notice is the color--because of their high oxidation and roasting, Wuyi oolongs often exhibit much darker coloration than other oolongs. At a quick glance, the color appears black, but if you look closer, you can see dark green, brown, and reddish colors as well, especially depending on the lighting conditions. High-grade oolongs usually consist of quite large leaves, so this oolong's mix of medium-large and a few broken leaves is a good indication of its medium-grade.

After infusion, some of this Da Hong Pao's trademark characteristics are revealed. The tea's liquor is a dark amber, which is again typical of Wuyi oolongs in general. The leaves have slightly unfurled to reveal their original size, as well as the variation of color that can often take place in one leaf. Wuyi teas are often so tightly stripe-rolled that they remain so even after several infusions. If you're brewing a Wuyi in a small pot or gaiwan gong fu style, make sure to leave enough room for the leaves to unfurl as much as they can; if they're too cramped, they won't expand and release all of their flavors evenly (or at all).

Wuyi oolongs are such a unique treat that it's worthwhile to seek out excellent examples of the teas you're interested in. At Miro this spring (after Wuyi harvests come in), we'll be offering a high-grade Da Hong Pao and a more affordable mid-grade selection to represent this diverse and famous region.

Oolong: Not "A Black Tea"

Every once in a while, a customer will come into Miro, approach the counter where we offer samples of four different teas each day, look at an oolong we've selected, and say "Oolong. Is that a black tea?" The answer to the question is a definite "No." Oolong and black tea are not interchangeable terms, and although there may exist some surface similarities between the two tea types, oolong's processing and source varietals are very distinct from those of most black teas. Despite the fact that oolong and black teas are very different, there is a surprising amount of variation in the processing, look, and flavor of different types of oolongs (probably more so than any other tea type), which can account for a lot of the confusion that people feel regarding this elusive tea genre. This entry will offer a brief synopsis of characteristic oolong production techniques and types and will hopefully take away some of the mystery that surrounds this hallowed tea in the West and provide a tempting introduction to the exotic flavors and aromas that oolongs can offer.

Overview:
Oolong (also transliterated from Mandarin as "wulong") literally means black ("oo/wu") dragon ("long"). Its origins are Chinese, and generally placed somewhere before the 16th century, which is relatively recently in the history of tea. Since then, oolong tea has been introduced to Taiwan (1800's) and much more recently to India and Nepal, among other minor tea-producing regions. Broadly speaking, oolong occupies the hazy gray area between green teas and black teas, mostly because of its oxidation levels--whereas green teas are virtually un-oxidized and black teas are "fullly" oxidized (100%), oolong's oxidation can range anywhere between 5% and 70% oxidation, which accounts for the broad variation in oolong flavors and characters.

Processing:
The first step in oolong processing is, of course, plucking the leaves. While green, white, and black teas tend to prize the unopened buds and young leaves of the tea plant, oolong can be more described as a "mature leaf" tea, since plucking often includes some very large leaves, which would usually make pretty low-quality green tea (or even lower-quality white tea!). Hand-harvested oolongs (pictured on the left, click to enlarge) are always prized higher than machine-harvested ones (pictured on the right, notice the much more frayed leaf edges), since hand-harvesting results in a more pure leaf profile and the leaves that are picked are usually in better condition. However, machine-harvested tea is cheaper and is sometimes very high-quality in flavor and in appearance.



After plucking, the leaves are withered in open air to reduce moisture content. Next, they are bruised, which is usually accomplished by shaking and hand-pressing them in bamboo baskets. The bruising process breaks down the cell walls in the leaves, releasing the juices and flavors to be exposed to air. The oxidation of the tea leaves primarily occurs during the bruising and withering stages, and depending on how long the tea-maker spends performing each step, a very different type of oolong can be produced. Obviously, these steps involve great skill, from the motions required to bruise the leaves to the practical knowledge of how long each step should be performed, taking into account the weather and temperature as well! By the end of bruising, the leaves become much suppler than they were after withering, and much of their aroma and flavor has been fixed.

When the leaves have reached the desired oxidation, they're fired to kill the enzymes and stop the oxidation process--just like with green and pu-erh teas, but after a much longer oxidation time period. After this short firing, the leaves are rolled. Each oolong type has a special rolling profile (more on this later), and these are achieved by rolling the leaves and heating them repeatedly. During rolling, more of the juices are released and affected by the heat, which also contributes to the flavor of the end result.

Finally, the rolled leaves are roasted. This is another factor that varies considerably among oolong types. The tea-maker will roast the leaves twice; the first roast is short with high-heat, designed to fix both the chemicals of the tea as well as the shape. The second roasting process is usually lower heat for varying longer amounts of time. This slow-roasting period improves the flavor and color of the tea, and also gives oolong the advantage of lasting for a large number of infusions. Back when I was first learning about tea, oolong was mysterious--"it's the only tea that you can steep more than once" was what I heard. While that's not the complete story (most high-quality green, white, yellow and pu-erh teas are capable of a few or many delicious steepings), it's true that oolong is well above the average in this department. Really, its only competition is aged sheng pu-erh, which increases in steep-ability as the years roll by. After rolling, the oolong is allowed to cool, then is graded and packaged for sale.

Internationally, oolong has developed a reputation as something of a "connoisseur's" tea. There are a lot of oolong fans out there and there are plenty of internet forums and websites dedicated to the art and enjoyment of Chinese and Taiwanese oolongs. Oolong possesses a complexity of flavor and character that changes throughout multiple infusions and based on different brewing parameters, which lends itself very well to connoisseurship. Despite these excellent characteristics, oolong isn't necessarily "better" than green tea, white tea, pu-erh, or any other tea type--oolong is very accessible because its aroma is generally very pronounced and it often tastes like flowers or fruit, with which people are familiar. Green and pu-erh teas tend more toward the "acquired taste" end of the spectrum, but high quality examples of either one are just as deserving of praise as premium oolongs. Luckily, we get to enjoy all of them. My next few entries will focus on the four most famous oolong-producing regions and the typical flavors and appearances associated with each, featuring examples of each. They are:

The Wuyi Mountain region of Northern Fujian province
Anxi county of Southern Fujian province
Feng Huang county of Guangdong province
The high mountains of Taiwan

Elliot

Gong Fu Tea

Gong Fu (also known as Kung Fu) isn't just for martial arts! In reality, Gong Fu is a much broader term used to describe a skill that has been cultivated through long and hard work--in the world of Chinese tea, Gong Fu Cha is second to no method for getting the most flavor possible out of a tea. This post will lay out a practical method for Gong Fu Tea--although traditional Chinese Gong Fu Tea has very specific tools and steps that are used (often for treating guests to a delicious cup of tea), here we're most concerned with the best flavor out of the leaves, so the approach will be utilitarian.

In a general sense, Gong Fu is the best method for extracting a tea's flavor because it does so bit by bit, over the course of short infusions. If you think of a tea leaf as a whole unit, infusion in hot water extracts a certain amount of flavor per unit of time. For instance, a traditional Western style brewing of a green tea (using about a teaspoon of tea per 8 ounces of water) is likely to last about 3 minutes. In the course of those 3 minutes, I'd estimate that about 40% of the tea's flavor is extracted into the water, leaving 60% to be extracted in one or two later infusions. Because the leaf-to-water ratio is low, that much flavor doesn't result in a bitter cup--it'll probably taste pretty good. Part of the magic about premium tea, though, is that really nice teas have such complex flavors that you can notice slight changes between every infusion. If you're taking 40% of the flavor out in one long infusion, you'll be missing out on the complex, varying flavor changes that occur as the leaves release certain percentages of their flavor. The philosophy behind Gong Fu, then, is more like this: Use a smaller brewing vessel with a higher leaf-to-water ratio, short infusions (starting at 10-20 seconds each and increasing as soon as the flavor starts to decrease), and you'll be extracting more like 5% of the leaves' flavor with each infusion, producing smaller cups of extremely flavorful tea, and tasting the flavor variations that occur with each infusion. Here's how to do it:

The Tools:
The tools you'll need for basic Gong Fu Tea are few: Tea (of course), a small (ideally 150 ml or less) clay pot (Chinese Yixing recommended [more on Yixing Pots later]) -or- a Gaiwan (a Chinese porcelain covered cup, shown right), and hot water. That's all you really need, although a few optional tools can make things easier to measure and clean up: a scale for precise tea measurement, a reserve pitcher (recommended if you're planning to serve multiple people), and a tea tray to catch stray water.

Getting Started:
This "How To" will focus on using a gaiwan, since Yixing teapots are generally purchased with specific tea types in mind (matched to their shapes, clay types, and other properties), and gaiwans work equally well with any tea type, giving an accurate representation of the tea's strengths and weaknesses. Gaiwan literally means "covered cup," and a gaiwan consists of a saucer, a cup and a lid. Gaiwans are extremely useful tools because of their simplicity--all you have to do is put the leaves in, add water, and cover for the length of the infusion. When the time's up, open the lid just enough to let the tea out but not the leaves, and the lid will strain your tea for you! The lid can also be used to stir the tea during infusion to ensure that it's all wet. To start, fill your gaiwan about 1/3 full with tea leaves (in the pictures I'll be brewing a lovely Lu An Gua Pian green tea in a 120 ml gaiwan). If you want to be more scientific, I recommend a heaping teaspoon or about 3 grams per 100 ml of water.




Next, briefly rinse the tea leaves (for 5-10 seconds, about 20 for pu-erhs) with hot water, pouring the water on the wall of the gaiwan first (especially for delicate green teas). This step is especially important with oolongs and pu-erhs, since it not only washes the tea leaves of anys undesirable residues or flavors, but it also allows them to open up a little so your first infusion will be flavorful, and it pre-heats the gaiwan so water temperature will be more constant during infusion. If you're brewing green or white tea, you'll want water that's around 160-170º F; for light- to medium-oxidized oolongs, 190-200º is ideal; for black teas, pu-erh teas, and highly oxidized oolongs, as close to boiling as possible is the best temperature. Check out the pictures to see how to use the gaiwan--only a slight crack is usually required to let the tea liquor out, especially if the leaves are fine; as they expand, it will be easier to hold them back. Adjust the lid before picking up the gaiwan (top), grip the gaiwan around the rim, using your index finger to keep the lid in place (middle), and pour (bottom)! Sometimes it helps to give the gaiwan a downward shake when it's almost empty, sending those last few drops into the glass.


In these pictures I'm using a reserve pitcher, which ensures flavor consistency if you're serving tea to multiple people. I like to use one when drinking tea alone because it helps cool the tea to drinking temperature more quickly, and it allows me to make two cups of tea in quick succession. Now that you've rinsed the tea, take the lid off and smell! The addition of heat and water brings the aroma out in a big way, and the deeper you inhale, the better it smells! This is one of my favorite steps. Now that you've become acquainted with the aroma of your tea, it's time to brew. As you taste each infusion, you'll likely appreciate the different flavors that you smelled in the aroma earlier.

As you can see, the rinse has allowed the leaves to open up considerably compared to their dry state.

For infusion, simply pour the water on the tea leaves so they fill the gaiwan comfortably and evenly. If the leaves are cramped, they won't release their flavor evenly. The beauty of Gong Fu tea is the control you have--start your infusions at 10 seconds each. If the flavor isn't strong enough, add on a few seconds. As you improve your method, you'll also be able to tell the tea's strength by uncovering the gaiwan and looking at how dark the liquor is. Brewing tea Gong Fu style, if you get to the point where you have to infuse over 1 minute to get flavor, that's a pretty good sign that your tea leaves are out of flavor, but it's all up to your personal taste.

The spent leaves have expanded quite a bit--it's a great idea to check out the quality of your tea leaves after they've been infused.

Although brewing "Western style" is pretty quick and convenient--especially with non-premium teas, Gong Fu will always be tops when it comes to uncovering the complexities of high-quality teas, one layer at a time.

Elliot

Pu-erh Tea: An Introduction

This article is intended to act as a somewhat brief (though it's still pretty long) introduction to one of the most mysterious, ancient, complex and collectible tea genres--Pu-erh, the compressed tea cakes or bricks that have potential to improve with age. Although it is gradually becoming known in the West, this enigmatic tea genre is still subject to a lot of misunderstanding and misinformation. Hopefully, this entry will clear up some potential questions about pu-erh and provide you with enough general knowledge and tools to begin exploring pu-erh from an informed perspective.

History:
In terms of processing, pu-erh (pronounced "poo-air," or "poo-er") is a living fossil--the practice of compressing teas into bricks or cakes was widespread and industry-standard hundreds of years ago, but today, in terms of popularity, it has been replaced by tea in loose form. Pu-erh tea is named for a county in the Yunnan province of China; Yunnan is generally regarded as the primary source for best pu-erh tea leaves because the province's high mountains receive more sunlight than most areas of China, making for ideal strong, large leaves. The "traditional" pu-erh processing methods that today's production emulates were threatened during the Cultural Revolution of the late 1960's and 1970's--during this time, much of the country's stock of antique pu-erh was destroyed. Since then, pu-erh from the 50's and 60's has become especially rare (and extremely expensive), and the techniques used to produce it have been pursued by modern pu-erh producers who hope to recapture the tea's past glory. Today, pu-erh production is split between teas produced by plantations and teas sourced from semi-wild, old-growth, overgrown ancient tea plantations on difficult-to-access mountains. Since the late 20th century, pu-erh has seen an explosive increase in interest both in China and abroad, resulting in rapid price inflation of aged pu-erh, new pu-erh, and the highest quality tea leaves used to produce pu-erh.

Processing:
What separates pu-erh from the other tea types is its processing--it's not important which tea plant cultivar produces the leaves. Depending on how the teas are processed, the result will either produce sheng (or raw, uncooked, or green) pu-erh, or shu (ripened, cooked or black) pu-erh. Regardless of the end result, the first ingredient is mao cha--"rough tea"--the loose leaves that will eventually be compressed into sheng or shu pu-erh.

Mao Cha (pictured left, click to enlarge; thanks to Guang at http://www.houdeasianart.com for these pictures) consists of buds, tender leaves, stems, and whole semi-mature leaves. In general, a good mix of these elements produces good pu-erh (i.e. not ALL buds or ALL mature leaves). The processing is outwardly simple, but the finer points of making mao cha are touchy and require fine skills and experience. After plucking, the tea leaves are briefly wilted on bamboo mats to slightly reduce moisture content. Next, the leaves go through the "killing green" process, during which the leaves are pan-fired, de-enzyming the leaves and preventing any oxidization or fermentation. The killing green process is extremely important--the liquor of pu-erh teas that have not undergone correct or complete killing green is often cloudy or murky, and it denotes low quality craftsmanship. After killing green, the leaves are carefully bruised to release flavor without breaking leaves or buds, then dried in the open air or by the sun to the ideal low-moisture (bud not brittle) content. From this point, the mao cha is transported to either large or small factories to become sheng or shu pu-erh. We'll start with shu.

Shu Pu-erh:
Shu, or ripened pu-erh (pictured right), was invented mid-20th century in an effort to approximate the flavors and character of aged sheng pu-erh, without the years of aging and usual high price commanded by aged sheng pu-erh. This effect is achieved through a rigorously-controlled process involving moisture and heat. The loose mao cha is moistened with water and stacked into piles. In these conditions (similar to skilled compost production), the wet leaves increase in temperature by themselves (autothermally), which quickly increases the rate of post-fermentation (since the leaves are being fermented after the initial killing green process), simulating the process of aging. Of course, the process is delicate and the piles must be turned and monitored to ensure that the leaves don't get too hot and that moisture and oxidation levels are equivalent. Since this precisely-controlled process includes increased temperature, shu pu-erh is often referred to as "cooked," but this term is inaccurate because no cooking actually takes place. Finally, the post-fermented leaves are compressed into different shapes--usually disc-shaped cakes (called "bing cha" or "beeng cha"), but also often large and small bird's nest-shaped forms (tuo cha). Shu pu-erh processing recipes differ from factory to factory, so it is likely that flavor and quality standards will be well-controlled or recognizable for a particular factory.

Like any tea, there are premium grades of shu pu-erh and there are types that are extremely low-grade. For many Westerners, "pu-erh" refers to very low-grade shu pu-erh (often served at dim sum restaurants) that tastes extremely earthy--often to the point of tasting like dirt. In reality, high quality shu pu-erh can make for a very refined tea experience--it's usually incredibly smooth, rich, and abounding in flavors that can range between earthy, spicy, woody, mushroomy and chocolaty. Like sheng pu-erh, shu pu-erh's flavor can be improved with aging, but to a lesser extent (see below for aging-related information). Regardless of its quality, though, shu pu-erh is generally regarded as subordinate in quality to aged premium sheng pu-erh, which is unparalleled for its complexity and reputation. Aged sheng pu-erh is rare, expensive, and sometimes difficult to verify as authentic, though, and shu pu-erh potentially offers a similar high-quality experience at a fraction of the cost and time commitment.

Sheng Pu-erh:
The undisputed king of the pu-erh world, sheng pu-erh's processing is less mysterious but no less delicate than that of shu pu-erh. For sheng pu-erh (pictured left), the finished mao cha is weighed and re-hydrated using steam. This step often separates high-quality sheng pu-erh from mid-grade; if the source of the steam isn't pure, the tea leaves will acquire a smoky flavor and character. Although smokiness doesn't mean a pu-erh is inferior (light smokiness will diminish with a few years of aging), the absence of smokiness in young sheng pu-erh is a hallmark of quality production and attention to detail. After rehydration, the more moisturized mao cha is placed in a cotton bag and gently formed into a ball. The ball/bag is then compressed using either a large, cylindrical stone (traditional) or via a special press (modern). Both methods produce top-grade pu-erh, though stone molding generally compresses the tea slightly less, which is better for aging. The mao cha can also be pressed into other shapes, including rectangular or square bricks, birds nest (tuo cha, pictured right top), mushroom (jing cha, pictured right bottom), or even giant melons. After compression, the cakes are sun-dried, wrapped in paper, and sun dried again before being packaged for sale. Bing cha are traditionally sold by the tong, a bamboo or banana leaf-wrapped stack of 7 cakes. Bing cha usually weigh between 350 grams and 400 grams, with 357 grams being an industry standard. When packaged, each pu-erh cake will have a Nei Fei (an embedded inner ticket) and a Nei Piao (an inner ticket) which provide more information about the tea cake's production, the factory, and the quality of the product. The dimensions and appearance of these items are especially important in aged pu-erh, since forgery is common and careful inspection of the tickets can verify a pu-erh's authenticity.

The flavor of recently-produced sheng pu-erh can vary widely--depending on how the leaves were steamed during re-hydration, and especially on they type of mao cha used to produce the pu-erh, the flavor can vary widely to encompass floral notes, fruitiness, woodiness, flavors similar to green tea, honey-like sweetness, and many other elements. Most young pu-erhs possess a distinct bitterness; some people find pu-erh's bitterness to be too strong, or overpowering, but it should be noted that it's not the same type of bitterness as, say, an oversteeped green tea. Bitterness in high quality young pu-erh should transform during swallowing or in the aftertaste, taking on sweeter and more complex notes. As the pu-erh ages, its bitterness will decrease, and bitterness in young pu-erh is by no means a sign of inferiority.

Factories:
Be they produced by large, state-run companies or private producers, all pu-erhs are produced in some sort of factory. Menghai (also the name of a county in Yunnan) is by far the most popular pu-erh factory in China; it is unmatched in its brand name recognition and standard of quality. Factories like Menghai often produce teas every year based on a specific "recipe." In Menghai's case, each recipe has a number--for example, Menghai's 7542 recipe is an industry standard for quality and age-ability--the first two digits in the recipe stand for the year that the recipe was created (1975) and the second two digits (usually tougher to decode) refer to the types of leaves and quality used in the blend. In essence, a recipe is the percentage of each cake that comes from a given leaf type--buds, large leaves, small leaves, stems, and quality of each type are all factors. Therefore, a given recipe can be reproduced year after year with similar results (although, of course, harvest quality and climate conditions can affect a given year's harvest). In recent years, a number of pu-erh factories (such as San Ho Tang, whose Xi-Zhi Hao [Double Happiness] line has set the standard for premium pu-erh) have begun producing boutique-quality pu-erhs based on leaves picked from specific mountain old-growth plantations in Yunnan. These unblended productions often feature the highest quality, largest, and most beautiful pu-erh leaves available, and produce flavor that puts many plantation-sourced cakes to shame. However, blended and unblended single-region pu-erhs both have their merits; blends tend to have a larger breadth of flavors, while unblended pu-erhs tend to be more subtle and possess a more distinct character.

Brewing:
Pu-erh does have somewhat of an "acquired taste" for many people, but brewing it correctly can aid in enjoyment. First, you've got to get some leaves--using a knife or pick, break some leaves off of the cake as gently as possible, preferably from the side. The fewer broken leaves, the better the tea will taste. Traditional Chinese Gong Fu (to be described in a future post) preparation is ideal for pu-erh, since it brings the tea's flavor out little by little in a less overpowering way. For this method, you'll want to get your gaiwan or clay teapot about 1/3 full with leaves, rinse with boiling water for about 20 seconds, and discard the water. For future infusions, steep the tea for a short amount of time (20 sec or even less) with boiling water, gradually increasing the steeping time as the flavor decreases.

Brewing Western style, it's a good idea to use roughly 1 tsp of leaves per 8 oz cup, pouring slightly cooler than boiling water for sheng pu-erh (since you'll be brewing fewer leaves in a larger amount of water), and steep the leaves for 2-5 minutes the first time, depending on your taste. Like any tea, it's all a matter of taste, and you should experiment to find out how you like it best.

Aging Pu-erh:
Pu-erh's ability to improve with age is probably the quality that has made it especially popular with wine-drinking Westerners in the recent past. Both sheng and shu pu-erhs can improve in flavor with a few years of aging: sheng pu-erh improves the most dramatically and can be aged for over 50 years(!) with continuing flavor improvement, while the usefulness of aging shu pu-erh usually peaks at around 15 years. Within 10 years of aging (different pu-erhs age at different rates), the flavor of sheng pu-erh will mellow considerably--bitterness and smokiness will subside (if not disappear completely), the mouth feel will become smooth, the liquor will darken, and the tea will last for more infusions. The leaves of the cake will also change in appearance (compare the leaves in the picture on left of a 1980's with the young sheng pu-erh cake pictured above, then compare it with the shu pu-erh). For shu pu-erh, aging generally results in the reduction of "off" flavors, like slight dirtiness or mustiness, but it's never as dramatic as the flavor transformation seen in sheng pu-erh. It's also important to note that aging an inferior quality pu-erh won't turn it into a superior one! Although it will mellow out, inferior sheng pu-erh is likely to produce somewhat bland or shallow aged pu-erh. Not necessarily bad, but also not magical transmutation. What's the best way to know if a pu-erh is age-able? Taste it! Complexity and delicious flavors in young sheng pu-erh is a good measure of aging potential, and it's a great idea to taste your aging pu-erh as time progresses to see if your decision was a good one. There's no substitute for experience, though, so it's a great idea to experiment and try both un-aged and aged pu-erhs--you'll start to recognize flavors from young pu-erhs in old pu-erhs, and it will all start to click!

If you plan to age pu-erh yourself, here are a few basic guidelines: pu-erh should be stored in a relatively cool, dark, dry (very important) place with exposure to airflow (airtight conditions will eventually kill the microorganisms responsible for the pu-erh's aging) and an absence of strong odors, particularly food odors, since the pu-erh leaves will absorb strong smells. In general, if it's comfortable climate for a person, the pu-erh should be okay. A good closet or cupboard usually does the trick.

In Asia, pu-erh is sometimes stored in very humid environments. This type of storage is sometimes referred to as "wet" storage or more euphemistically as "traditional" or "Hong Kong" storage. The reasons for wet storage are multiple: unscrupulous vendors may be attempting to artificially "age" sheng pu-erh via a moist environment, or they just may not have access to a humidity-controlled warehouse. In any case, approach these pu-erhs with caution--although this type of storage can speed the aging of pu-erh, it can also result in unsafe growth of mold and other non-ideal "life" on your pu-erh.

Generally, I recommend sampling a pu-erh before buying an entire cake whenever possible--this way, you'll get tasting experience and you'll know firsthand if you like the pu-erh or not. Most high-quality vendors offer samples, and I'd only recommend buying a cake without sampling if you've already dealt with the vendor and trust their quality control. Also, rather than shelling out big money for a lot of aged pu-erh, I recommend buying either premium young or premium mid-aged pu-erh; you'll save a load of money, and if you buy high-quality, you'll be enjoying your tea more within a few years or even when it's young than if you bought mediocre aged pu-erh (or worse--faked aged pu-erh!) at an expensive price.

At Miro, we're committed to offering a broad range of pu-erh; our selection includes both sheng and shu pu-erhs in loose and cake forms, and we carry a range of ages from recently-produced to around 10 years old. We offer premium pu-erh as well as great value-for-price pu-erhs, and we're happy to let you sample the pu-erh before you buy! If you made it through this entire article, thanks for bearing with me--I hope you feel more familiar with pu-erh and educated to make smart buying decisions. Questions are always welcome, and stay tuned for in-depth tasting notes for some of Miro's recently-acquired premium pu-erhs!

Elliot

Ants and the Dawn of Rooibos Cultivation

Many people are very familiar with the smooth, naturally sweet flavor and highly-concentrated health benefits of rooibos, the South African red bush, but far fewer people have probably heard about the beginning of its life as an internationally-traded commodity. Although it's been consumed by the indigenous Khoisan people of what's now known as the Cederberg region of South Africa for hundreds (perhaps thousands) of years, rooibos (pronounced "roy-boss") has only been cultivated commercially since the early 20th century. I'd like to share one of the most interesting parts of the rooibos story:

Benjamin Ginsberg, a Russian settler of South Africa, was the first person to develop rooibos as a product. In the 1930s he enlisted the aid of a local doctor and hobby scientist, Peter Nortier, in order to begin cultivation of the plant, which had previously been harvested wild. The only problem, though, was finding seeds--rooibos seeds are housed in small pods. When each pod is ripe, it will burst open, scattering the tiny seeds on the ground around the plant (which is usually sandy). Usually the rooibos pods on a particular bush reach maturity at different rates, so it might also take quite a while for all of a plant's pods to burst. Nortier eventually had to resort to paying local farmers and villagers to collect the seeds for him: a shilling for a matchbox full of rooibos seed. One Khoi woman came back more than anyone else--multiple times per day. Eventually, she divulged her secret:

Rooibos (an ant's eye view)

One day, she had noticed a certain type of black ant carrying rooibos seed back to their colony. Breaking open the nest, she discovered an ant granary full of seed! Eventually, commercial rooibos cultivation took off, but it probably wouldn't have been possible without the initial efforts of Ginsberg, Nortier, and the Khoi woman who discovered a way around painstaking seed collection--let the ants do the work! Today, rooibos seeds are collected by a special sifting process that lifts the seeds from the sandy soil around the plants, but some farmers still rely on exploiting the free labor of those rooibos seed-loving black ants.

Elliot

Cold-brewing iced tea at home

As those hot summer days (hopefully) start rolling in, a glass of cold, refreshing iced tea starts sounding more and more delicious. Brewing iced tea at home is easy and results in great-tasting tea. Although pouring hot-brewed tea over ice and sun-brewing tea both work well for black teas, these methods can sometimes result in cloudy or extremely bitter tea (especially if you try it with green tea). This easy "cold brewing" method will produce delicious iced tea from any type of tea (rooibos and botanicals included), without cloudy appearance or harsh flavor.

Use 2 tsp-1tbsp of tea leaves for every 8 oz cold water. Pour the water over the leaves in a covered container and refrigerate overnight (at least 8 hours). When the time is up, just strain the leaves and the tea is ready to drink!

The Bodum Ceylon Iced Tea pitcher (on the left in the picture) is specially-designed for cold-brewing iced tea; it features a built-in infuser that holds the leaves separate from the water and can be removed--with the leaves--when the tea has finished brewing. Miro Tea offers the Bodum Ceylon Iced Tea Pitcher for $14.95. If the summer heat gets you too thirsty, feel free to stop by Miro and try one of our sparkling iced tea fusions, a smoothie, or any one of our 250+ teas iced.

Elliot

The Five Thieves: Storing Your Tea

Proper tea storage can make the difference between your tea's flavor and freshness lasting around two weeks to an entire year. Before deciding which storage options best suit your needs, it's important to consider the five thieves--the five factors that contribute to spoiling premium teas and stealing their flavor!

1. Humidity/moisture: Despite the fact that tea is a relatively "dry" substance, it does have an ideal moisture content, which is usually 2%-3%. Allow the tea to come into contact with water before you intend to use it, and it's as good as gone. Over longer-term storage, humidity in the air can raise your tea's moisture level by several percentage points within a few months, resulting in the oxidization of the elements responsible for tea's flavor and quality.
2. Air: Probably the most obvious of the five, oxygen also contributes greatly to long-term oxidization of tea. Just like any food item, if exposed to air for long periods of time, tea will lose flavor and begin to taste stale.
   
3. Light: Exposure to UV rays can cause chemical changes in your tea, reducing its vitamin and nutrient content and changing the color from vibrant green to dull brown. Exposure to direct sunlight is the worst.
4. Heat: High temperature can speed up the chemical processes that age tea.
   
5. Odor: Certain types of tea are especially good at absorbing other smells; if you store your tea near strong-smelling food or other odors, its character will likely be diminish and be obscured by the odor it has acquired.
   

The solution for most of these potential problems is simple--store your tea in an airtight container! This will prevent exposure to oxygen, humidity, and odor. The other two thieves can also be easily dealt with--store your tea in a cool, dark cupboard in an area of your house that doesn't experience much temperature fluctuation. Some would argue that tea should be stored long-term in a freezer, but the possibility of freezer-burn and condensation upon opening makes freezer storage risky, especially when a cool cupboard offers equally-fresh tea.

Aside from these general guidelines, different containers have strengths and weaknesses when it comes to tea storage. When we sell bulk tea to customers at Miro Tea, we use resealable polyfoil laminate bags like this one:


These bags are generally very excellent storage options: when heat-sealed, they're airtight (especially if they've had the air squeezed out when packaged), and since they're opaque, they block light exposure. The downsides are that they aren't attractive, aren't easy to organize in a cupboard, and don't offer much protection from heat. I've had very good results storing fresh-harvested green tea in unopened polyfoil bags for up to a year inside a cooler in a cool basement--when I finally opened the bags, the tea tasted nearly as fresh as it did back in April of the year before.

Once you open a polyfoil bag, it's probably a good idea to find a better storage option. Although many of the bags are resealable, a zip-loc seal is never completely airtight. Depending on how long you intend to store the tea before drinking all of it, you have a number of options. For short-term storage here at Miro Tea, we use these glass Bodum containers:


They're nice because they show off the beautiful tea leaves and the rubber seal helps keep out air and moisture. I'd only recommend this kind of storage if you're going though your tea quickly, though, since the temperature and light blockage are nil.

The ideal container is undoubtedly this one, a ceramic jar with locking, sealing lid:


We use these for medium-term storage at Miro, and they're ideal because of their airtight seal and thick walls, which block light and temperature fluctuation. I've personally had the best results with this kind of container, especially versus tins and canisters, which never seem to keep tea fresh for long. Just remember--no matter what container you use, try to match the size of the container with the amount of tea leaves. If there's a lot of empty space in the container, that means your tea is coming into contact with more flavor-stealing air and humidity!

Elliot