miro tea

17-Year-Old Gong Ting Pu-erh

2011-06-07T10:44:00.000-07:00

Our final "new" pu-erh is even older--it's a loose pu-erh sold to us as "17-year-old Menghai Dayi Gong Ting Pu-erh." Like our unwrapped 2003 brick, this tea comes to us without formal packaging or pedigree, so we've got to take its provenance with a grain of salt and pay attention to our senses to determine its quality. "Gong Ting" refers to the erstwhile tradition of the best teas being gifted to the Chinese imperial court. Today, it's often used to describe loose cooked pu-erh of the smallest grade. One look at the leaves of this tea and it seems to be a fair appellation--they're tiny! The tea seems to be almost entirely composed of buds, too, which range from dark brown to golden in color. I can see this grade being included in a blended cake, but it's hard to imagine a cake made of leaves this small--it seems like it wouldn't manage to stay together!

As might be expected, the high number of tea buds included in this tea indicate above-average sweetness. When it comes to pu-erh, though, tons of buds also seem to inevitably bring high notes in aroma as well as the strength and occasional harshness that improves significantly with age. Luckily for us, this tea's already had its fair share of storage and the flavors are blending pretty well. Compared to our other new teas, the mouthfeel is surprisingly dry--I wouldn't say astringent, but it doesn't leave a thick or oily texture in the mouth after swallowing. There's also a considerable amount of strength to this tea--what would most likely come across as intense bitterness in a raw pu-erh is here a slight sharpness that develops into musty sweetness in the finish. It's pretty amazing to me that a tea can undergo ripened pu-erh processing as well as aging and retain as much of an edge as teas like this have. To me, these kinds of characteristics are indication that the tea will only continue to mellow with further aging. As it stands today, this is a great ripened pu-erh option if you're interested in a tea with a bit of a kick. It's not the supremely mellow experience of our 2003 brick, but it's also a better choice for gong fu, with quite a bit of development and stamina over multiple steepings, developing deeper flavors as the infusions wear on. I wouldn't rule out mixing a bit of this with the 2003 brick for a broad-ranging blend, either!

2003 Menghai Ripened Brick

2011-06-04T09:45:00.000-07:00

Our next "new" pu-erh has actually got some age on it--it's a 250 gram brick from 2003. Like our '09 7452 cake it's hard to start talking about this one without raising some common confusing aspects of the pu-erh experience. For starters, the brick is called "Menghai," and as the last notes mentioned, this tea was created in Menghai county, Yunnan province, but not at Menghai Tea Factory. Secondly, you can see that this cake is a different shape--indeed, it's not the standard 357 gram bing (disc-shaped cake) into which the majority of pu-erh is pressed; it's a 250 gram rectangular brick. Though this shape is not the #1 norm, it's relatively common and 250g is the standard brick weight. You may also notice that these bricks have no wrappers (aside from the bamboo wrapper that holds multiple bricks).

As is sometimes the case with aged pu-erh, this cake was either never wrapped or was removed from its wrappers some time in its eight years of storage. Although this does mean that there is much less information to verify a cake's age, origin and authenticity (no wrapper, no nei fei pressed into the cake), it usually means that the cake will sell for much less. In other words, you can get a better deal on an unwrapped aged cake than a wrapped one, and just because it's unwrapped doesn't mean it's not good! Rather than relying on information provided on a wrapper, though, we have to use our senses to decide whether a tea's a worthy investment.

This brick's relatively dry Yunnan storage means that the leaves flake pretty easily off the cake surface--in fact, the brick itself is a bit flexible in hand. What has struck me most about this cake during tasting is its mouthfeel--it's by far the smoothest and roundest of our three new teas, and there's nary a hint of astringency to be found from start to finish. The tea liquor is also the darkest of the three--it's a barely penetrable black, even in our glass cups. While I described our 7452 as the best choice for gong fu brewing, my recommendation for this tea is "Western"-style brewing in a mug or pot--like we serve most of our teas at Miro. While it does stand up to a few repeated steeps, the body is fullest and most impressive when it's allowed a nice long 5+ minute steep. Additionally, the flavor more fully develops given some extra steeping time. The tea isn't quite as complex as the Menghai Factory blend, but it's a brilliant example of ideal mouthfeel for any pu-erh. The eight years of aging have definitely contributed to this characteristic, as well as the mellowing of the flavor. There aren't as many high notes up front, and there's little to no remnants of the flavor that freshly-processed ripened pu-erh exhibits. Some teas seem designed for careful connoisseur attention over the course of numerous steeps. This one, however, seems best drunk casually on a relaxing afternoon, as it exemplifies the calming, mellowing characteristics to which all pu-erh should aspire.

New Pu-erh! 2009 Menghai Factory 7452 Recipe

2011-06-01T17:21:00.000-07:00

It's been quite a while since we've had new ripened (cooked) pu-erh offerings at Miro Tea; a few months ago we sold out of the last of our 2007 Chang Tai Red Crane cakes, and shortly after our 2006 International Tea Expo Memorial cakes disappeared--a lot of customers have asked after the teas, wondering when we'll be restocking them. Sometimes the unfortunate thing about the aged pu-erh world is that once something is gone, it's really gone--our supplier sold out close to a year ago, so all we have of those two cakes is memories! Fortunately, though, it's also an opportunity to try some new teas, thanks to our new partnership with Yunnan Sourcing! We have three new (to us) ripened/cooked pu-erh cakes that are already available at Miro for your tasting pleasure--Jeannie has introduced a couple of them at our weekly tea tastings (Saturdays at 1 pm) and they've gone over quite well.

Before I launch into notes about one of our new cakes, it might be helpful to reference the introductory article that's been on this blog a few years already. We get a fair number of customers inquiring about this strange pu-erh tea they've had once or only heard about, but in most cases it turns out that they're more specifically looking for ripened or cooked pu-erh. It's the one that looks extremely dark in the cup (sometimes almost black) and is usually extremely smooth in the mouth, with full body, earthy flavor and often times a nice round sweetness. Raw/green pu-erh, on the other hand, looks much lighter in the cup, has more of a straw-like flavor, is often bitter and astringent, and only develops rich smoothness after many years (often decades) of careful storage. If you don't care to reference the lengthy article, here's the main thing that separates ripened pu-erh from raw: ripened pu-erh is artificially aged over a short period of time using a special process not unlike composting wherein the leaves are heaped, sprayed with water and change physically and chemically due to the autothermal generation of heat. The piles are shifted by knowledgeable tea masters to ensure their even processing, and when they're ready, the leaves are usually compressed into large cakes (just like raw pu-erh).

This, the first of our new offerings, is a 2009 example of Menghai Factory's 7452 recipe. One sentence in, and I've already mentioned some of the classic confusing pu-erh details. What's Menghai? Well, Menghai (pronounced mung-high) is both a county in China's Yunnan province (where all pu-erh comes from) and the name of the most famous pu-erh producing factory. Therefore, it's possible to describe a tea as "from" Menghai without it being from Menghai factory (as you'll see with our next tea). Menghai Factory is widely believed to be the first factory to have perfected the processing whereby ripened pu-erh is created, though there's some disagreement as to whether it was back in the 1950's or later around the 1970's that this was accomplished. Either way, their recipes are tried-and-true in the pu-erh world and we're happy to be able to share with you an example of "industry standard" pu-erh. Speaking of recipes, the final confusing issue is that of recipe number--7452 is read as "seventy-four five two." "Seventy-four" refers to the year the recipe was created (1974), "five" refers to the average grade (size, corresponding from low to high) of leaves used, and "two" is Menghai Factory's "code"--any recipe tea purchased from Menghai Factory will always end with a "2."

Many Menghai recipes are made every year. This one, in fact, isn't--there's a red ribbon embedded in each 357 gram cake denoting its status as a special release. Unlike raw pu-erh, which takes decades to mature, ripened pu-erh is ready to drink immediately. This doesn't mean, however, that it won't improve with age--the fact that this tea's already a couple of years old means that any sharpness or "fermented" taste from its processing has had some time to mellow and the flavors are well-blended. The reasonable percentage of buds visible in the cake indicate that it'll have some sweetness or at least some nice higher notes in the flavor. It doesn't disappoint in that regard--the first thing to come out in tasting was a nice malty sweetness. The body of this tea is also somewhat light for a cooked pu-erh, which can be a nice change of pace from what is often a rather heavy tea genre. Of our three new pu-erh teas, this is my pick for gong fu brewing--you might need to use a few more leaves than usual (I'd recommend at least 7 grams for 100ml), but the blend of leaves produces a nice session that really gets going after the first two infusions--full of changes on the palate, varying degrees of mouthfeel and a welcome bit of complexity. Brewed long in a mug or pot, the tea is quite flavorful, packed on numerous different levels. There are more "boutique" brands of ripened pu-erh, but Menghai Factory continues to deliver quality tea at extremely affordable prices--this 7452 cake is a solid stand-by and a good reference to which our customers can compare other teas.

Charcoal Roasted Dong-Ding

2011-03-06T09:19:00.000-08:00

Marching right along, it's my sensory pleasure to introduce one of my personal favorite tea types--Charcoal Roasted Dong-Ding. Charcoal roasted Dong-Ding has become about as crucial to my everyday survival as Wuyi Yan Cha oolongs, and that's saying something! Although we've recently had some really nice "contemporary"-style Dong Ding oolongs, I've still been hoping to get hold of some more traditionally roasted (with charcoal, rather than a baking machine) tea. Though both methods will caramelize a tea's sweetness, a well-done charcoal roast adds both a note of roast as well as a dynamic connection with the earth that just isn't there when a machine is used--surely traditional Chinese medicine would favor traditional charcoal roasting because it adds the element of fire to the tea processing, which contributes balance. Unfortunately even machine roasting isn't very fashionable right now and judges are choosing greener and greener teas as competition winners. Combine this with the fact that charcoal roasting is a difficult skill that is being passed down to fewer and fewer tea masters and you can see how a good traditional Dong Ding is becoming harder to find and more expensive.

Let me tell you--it's worth it. This tea is an excellent example of a lighter charcoal-roasted Dong-Ding: the charcoal note is present in the tea flavor, but it doesn't dominate. The tea's natural floral notes are still preserved but are made slightly acidic by the roast--the lively acidity is evident in the cup where the tea liquor starts out light orange but darkens quickly as it cools down and interacts with the air. The brewed leaves don't quite pop open as completely as green oolong, which is another sign of a healthy charcoal roast.

It's too bad that charcoal roasted Taiwanese oolongs are becoming more difficult to find abroad--it's hard to understand how both green oolong and traditional oolong can't just coexist equally on their respective merits, but popularity ultimately determines the availability of a tea. For now, at least, we can appreciate the best of both worlds!

Elliot

Experimental Taiwanese "Da Hong Pao"

2011-03-02T07:50:00.000-08:00

Here we have an even more unusual tea to continue with our selection of new Taiwanese oolongs. Yes, you read the title correctly--this tea is billed as Taiwanese Big Red Robe. But just how close is this tea to Fujian's most famous rock oolong?

My first question encountering this tea was "Which tea plant cultivar was used?" After all, even in mainland China, there's quite a bit of disagreement as to which plant actually constitutes Da Hong Pao. Our tea source revealed that the Taiwanese farmer who produced this tea actually used Buddha Hand leaves but processed them in the Da Hong Pao style. I'm not exactly sure what this means, since I can't call to mind any other examples of Da Hong Pao coming from Taiwan, so it might be that the producer chose the mother of all marketing buzzwords to get people interested in her experimental tea.

Despite its tenuous claims to the title of "Da Hong Pao" this tea is certainly an exceptional experiment. Though its name conjures ideas of roasted rock oolong, in reality it's closer to the Red Jinxuan we last featured. I'd describe this tea as even closer to a black tea--the liquor is a deep crimson color and the leaves are even darker green with much more red present. Compared with the Jinxuan, the liquor has a more present astringency in the finish, toward the back of the mouth. What really surprised me in comparison with the Jinxuan was this tea's up-front fruity note. Now knowing it's from the Buddha Hand cultivar, it's easier to understand, but even for Buddha Hand this is almost a punch-like fruitiness. Apparently the processing includes organic treatment like our Oriental Beauty and Red Jinxuan, so perhaps there is also some leaf hopper effect happening as well.

This is an extremely interesting tea unlike any I've tasted before--we have a very limited quantity, so please stop by soon if you're interested in trying it out.

Elliot

Red Jinxuan Oolong

2011-02-27T09:24:00.000-08:00

Our next two teas are major departures from what's become the Taiwanese oolong norm. First is this Red Jinxuan...oolong? It's probably accurate to call it an oolong--probably more accurate is the appellation "Hong Shui" which refers to an older style of oolong processing that emphasizes high oxidation and lower roasting. The party line is that this type of oolong processing has fallen out of fashion, but over the past couple of years I've been seeing more and more hong shui oolongs showing up online and at domestic Taiwan oolong suppliers.

If you hang around Miro Tea, you've probably already seen or tried a Jinxuan oolong or two--it's become a popular cultivar in Taiwan for its yield and robust, creamy body. This one's very different from the pellet-rolled, green examples we've had so far. The leaf shape is almost like Baozhong, but it's pretty clear that the oxidation level is much higher. The large, twisted leaves are almost black with a bit of light frost on the edges.

According to our source, Drew, this tea is completely organically grown, like Oriental Beauty, and the leaf hopper insects' bites impart a sweetness into the end flavor. Tasting the tea, I found it to be unlike the other Hong Shui oolongs I've tried. It has an astounding mellowness--there is really no astringency to speak of, and the thick body coats the mouth almost immediately. The flavor develops more after swallowing--it's not as up front as some teas. The wet leaves are full of grainy notes and, when inspected, are fairly uniformly dark green (as opposed to our Oriental Beauty, which has that iridescence to it). Still, there is a bit of redness on the stems and leaf edges that show the very high oxidation that this tea underwent. With its mellowness and closeness in characteristics to black teas, I think this is a tea that might go down well with fans of our China Vintage Special black tea.

Elliot

Three Other New(ish)-longs

2011-02-26T17:47:00.000-08:00

Before we continue with the final three new-new-longs, it's time for a quick introduction of three we've been remiss in mentioning. These teas, also supplied by Drew, have been enjoyed by Miro customers since mid-November. They include two Dong-Ding oolongs and a High Mountain Baozhong.

The first Dong-Ding is called "Xiao Ban Tian," and it's the greener of the two. This tea is an excellent option for those interested in branching out from our Lishan and Alishan oolongs; it's floral and full-bodied with less of a vegetal note than the Alishan and a bit more of a light fruity note than the Lishan. As you can see in the above picture, the tightly-balled leaves have a nice coat of down, indicating they were plucked quite young. As processing fashions change, I'm hard-pressed to identify what exactly defines a Dong-Ding as a Dong-Ding--I usually expect them to be more oxidized and roasted, but this is a solid high mountain oolong. According to Drew, "Dong-Ding" can be fairly applied to any teas from the Lugu region, which clears up the confusion on the appellation but still leaves us unsure what to expect a Dong-Ding to taste like until we actually try it!

The second Dong-Ding is from a mountain called Shan Lin Xi, one of the three most famous Taiwanese mountains. Its processing is more what I'd expect for a Dong-Ding--the leaves have received a light machine roast, visibly darkening their color just a tad. The liquor is still pure like the Xiao Ban Tian, but the roast accentuates the fruity note. Since we've been serving it, this tea has become even more exciting--it won the gold medal in the bi-annual Lugu Tea Competition. Lucky for us, we got ahold of our stock before the competition--gold medal winners increase drastically in price and supply becomes instantly scarce!

Finally there's our new High Mountain Baozhong. Baozhong is a classic Taiwanese tea--famed for both its loose, stripe-rolled appearance and its unparalleled floral notes. This organic Baozhong is totally au natural--it's quite stemmy, which adds a little rustic element to its appeal.

The flavor, though, is classic Baozhong; lighter than pellet-rolled high mountain oolong, but with a floral nose that goes on and on. Baozhong is another great alternative to the standard high mountain teas, and it's also quite enjoyable iced.

Join us next time for another of our brand new teas--a traditional Charcoal-Roasted Dong-Ding!

Elliot

A Man and his Bike, in the Land of Oolong

2011-02-22T20:29:00.000-08:00

Tea farm at the base of Alishan Mountain

Next in our series on Taiwanese winter oolongs at Miro Tea, we are going to introduce you to the man behind the teas, my good friend Drew. It is Drew who helps me locate the best oolongs of each season and makes sure we are always well-stocked with the highest quality Taiwanese oolongs that are most representative of each category. I met Drew on my first day in college and to this day, he's the friend who doesn't let me live down certain events in my life that he had the fortune/misfortune to witness. We should all be so lucky to have such a good friend. In my first post, I had mentioned how a good friend was responsible for introducing me to what great tea was all about. Well, that good friend was Drew. He had already been studying and learning about teas long before I even met him and by the time we met, he demonstrated to me the variety of teas that existed outside of my limited knowledge of tea, at time, and introduced to me the concept of artisan teas, direct farmer sourcing and gung fu tea preparation. In my mind, the idea of Miro Tea was born the moment he served me that first cup of gorgeous delicious tea.

Since our college days, Drew left Seattle for warmer climates and settled down in Taiwan with his lovely wife Joyce, where they've established an envious life of teaching, exploring, and writing, as well as lots and lots of biking across the Taiwanese countryside.

I never considered how conducive the terrain and landscape of Taiwan was for cycling until I learned of Drew's cycling endeavors and from reading his blog, Taiwan in Cycles. There, he chronicles all his excursions and the very rich cycling culture in Taiwan, all the while taking lots of photos of the people, locales, bikes and of course, tea! Some of the tea related rides that he's written about are his Nantou trip, Ali Mountain, and my favorite piece on the Lugu tea district and it's prestigious bi-annual tea competition.

And so it is during these bike rides that Drew ventures out to the Taiwanese mountainsides and discovers some of the obscure but talented tea growers whose teas we enjoy at Miro Tea. We're so lucky to have him as our exclusive liason to help us insure that our customers have access to some of the most exceptional teas that Taiwan has to offer. He's been generous by allowing us to access his long developed relationships with the tea farmers and has become our "feet on the street" or in this case, "wheels on the mountain" for premium quality, yet reasonably priced Taiwanese Oolongs. With his friendly disposition, sense of curiosity, and utmost respect for the farmers, he's been able to establish great relationships with many of the local tea growers from each of the major tea growing regions.

Handmade Tea Baskets

One thing that people often misunderstand is the process of gaining access to teas grown by small tea farmers. It's not as simple as picking up a phone or knocking on a door. Cultural rules dictate and respect for the farmers must be acknowledged. Relationships based on personal interactions and trust are established over time. Thankfully, Drew is the person that we trust to develop that special relationship for us in Taiwan.

Teas in Taiwan are usually hand plucked by the family members who own and cultivate the tea farms

When selecting teas, Drew knows the characteristics of a truly premium oolong and starts by looking for only hand-made, organically-grown Oolongs that are typically cultivated at a high elevation. This ensures that care was taken in making the tea and it further increases the chances that the cultivated oolong tea will be delicious. Also, Drew and I share a very similar palate for oolong teas, which allows me to put my full trust in his selections, enabling us to get premium oolong teas to our store and customers in very short order.

Fresh tea leaves being spread out to wilt in the sun before the bruising and rolling process.

The photos shown on this post were all taken by Drew this winter on Ali and Dong Ding Mountain. We'll be sure to post more photos of the tea farms as we get them from Drew. Be sure to check our blog again for the final three oolong tasting posts, which will be posted in the coming weeks. Cheers!

Oriental Beauty

2011-02-15T08:32:00.000-08:00

Certain teas are almost always identified by one easy-to-remember umbrella name, like Dragonwell or Tieguanyin (Iron Goddess of Mercy). There may be a more specific appellation to describe the tea plant cultivar or specific growing location, but the common name is always there. Today's tea definitely doesn't fall into that category--alternately known as Bai Hao, Dongfang Mei Ren, Oriental Beauty and Fancy Formosa, it can be tough to tell just which name is "correct."

What's indisputable, though, is that Oriental Beauty (we're using its most common English handle) is a Taiwanese oolong like very few others. Looking at the tea's close-up portrait above, you might even mistake it for a Darjeeling with its silvery tips and the leaves' rusty hue. Indeed, the resemblance is remarkable (though a true tea sleuth would likely point to the presence of stems and the by-and-large unbroken condition of the leaves as evidence that it's not Darjeeling). Still, the comparison rings true in some ways--the reddish color of the leaves gives away this tea's high oxidation--it's sometimes as high as 80%, which is treading mighty close to black tea territory. It's also often unroasted and dried using an extended withering process. Perhaps most interestingly, Oriental Beauty producers actually encourage a parasitic "leaf hopper" insect to bite the tea leaves--the insects' saliva produces a chemical response in the leaves that is absolutely crucial to achieving its hallmark flavor characteristics.

Like out High Mt. Alishan, it's been quite a while since we've had a new Oriental Beauty oolong. Compared to other years' harvests, I think this tea is on the lighter side--it's more delicate and subtle rather than robust or verging on malty. This subtlety allows the tea's floral aspects to come out more than usual--the aroma has much more of a flowery scent, though the primary flavor is still fruity/honey notes. Drinking my first cup, I was immediately struck by some astringency at the front of my mouth, which actually complemented the tea's sweet finish quite well. This tea's special processing makes for really interesting-looking wet leaves, with an almost iridescent quality to the oxidized patches, which often cover most of an entire leaf. We recommend a slightly longer (4 minutes for a large pot or mug) steeping to fully develop this oolong's body.

Elliot

Winter High Mt. Alishan Oolong

2011-02-08T09:53:00.000-08:00

Introducing our next "new"-long, this is a High Mountain Alishan oolong. It's been a while since we've had a fresh Alishan (our last one was the darker "Snowy" Alishan). It's nice to have another option for those seeking a classic green high mountain alternative to our popular Lishan.

What's the difference? Well, for starters the teas come from different mountains--Mt. Li in North/Central Taiwan, and Mt. Ali in Southwestern Taiwan, respectively. If push comes to shove, Lishan is probably the most famous tea-producing mountain in Taiwan (at least, the teas grown in the Da Yu Ling area of Lishan command some of the highest prices to be found on the island), but both mountains have distinctive characters. To my palate, Alishan oolongs tend to be just a bit bolder in flavor--bright and forthright but occasionally finicky when it comes to brewing without making a slightly bitter cup.

This fresh batch exhibits typical Alishan characteristics--it's nice and floral and even has a tiny bit of a vegetal note, which may appeal to some green oolong aficionados. Despite its exceedingly green profile, it's easy to see the standard level of edge-of-the-leaf high mountain oolong oxidation. The leaves open up nicely during steeping to reveal just how well-treated a truly hand-harvested tea can be. Try it side-by-side with our Lishan to see how they compare!

Elliot

Oxidized Buddha Hand Oolong

2011-02-02T19:15:00.000-08:00

Although we've been quiet on the blogosphere, there are a lot of things happening at Miro Tea, not least of which include a lot of cool events and fun changes around the store. On the tea end, things have been exciting. Our source in Taiwan has supplied us with a clutch of really impressive teas--both classic Taiwan oolongs as well as some very interesting and more unusual teas, some of which I've never even heard of before! As we introduce the new teas to the staff, first impressions are as important as ever--to one of our more poetic team members, the fresh oolongs have become known as "new-longs!" Over the next few weeks we'll be featuring these on the blog with tasting notes and descriptions. Of course, they'll be available in the store by the cup and pot on our enduringly-popular seasonal oolong menu, and if you get in early enough you might be able to snag a few ounces to take home!

For starters, our Oxidized Buddha Hand oolong has been restocked, and this time it's a winter harvest. This was probably my favorite of the last batch of oolongs we received from Taiwan. Buddha Hand (pinyin Fo Shou) oolong has personally intrigued me for quite a while with its enormous leaves and inimitable fruity notes. This tea is quite a pleasure to drink because the higher oxidation (which tends to bring out fruity or generally sweet notes) has amplified the Buddha Palm cultivar's natural flavor profile into a rich autumnal (forgive the strange word choice, but it just seems to fit the way this tea tastes) fruity-floral combination. Compared with our "Green" Buddha Hand oolong (which, at the time of this writing, is still in stock), the body is a fair bit thicker. Although this tea may not develop quite as much over repeated brews, the oxidized taste is endearing and so unlike most Taiwanese oolongs that it doesn't really matter--it's nice to just bask in the unique flavor.

Some tea leaves are called "big" because of their length, but the immensity of this cultivar's leaves is really noticeable in the astounding breadth as shown by the gargantuan example above. You can also see the bruised edges that have contributed to the oxidized nature of this oolong. I'm excited that we get to prolong the magic of this tea by carrying another season's harvest--we too often have to say "goodbye" to interesting teas too soon!

Stay tuned--we've got even more noteworthy teas on the horizon. We'll be continuing next post with our first green High Mountain Alishan Oolong in over a year.

Elliot

China Vintage Special Black Tea

2010-12-11T20:31:00.000-08:00

Today it's my pleasure to introduce a very special tea we've recently begun serving at the store. Jeannie purchased this Chinese black tea at the end of 2007--three years ago! Until now it's sat sealed in a faraway corner of Miro's storage. Jeannie recently remembered the tea and upon trying some was pleasantly surprised. Not only had the quality of the tea not degraded during its storage, the astringency had mellowed considerably and the tea was actually much more pleasant to drink than it had been three years ago!

Unfortunately because of the time that's elapsed we know little about this tea other than the fact that it's a high-grade Chinese black--the large bags it was stored in have only generic tea labels and the words "Special Grade" handwritten by our wholesaler. So, in absence of a more accurate name, we're calling it "China Vintage Special." I recently took the opportunity to give this tea a try and was quite pleasantly surprised. I don't drink a lot of black tea but always appreciate a complex tea no matter what genre it belongs to. As you can see above, this tea's leaves are quite long and though there are some golden buds present, it's nowhere near as tippy as our Yunnan Gold Fancy.

When you see this tea in the cup, it's easy to understand why the Chinese call black tea "red" tea; they're going off of the liquor color not the dry leaf color! Indeed, this tea is a deep amber red with a nice surface sheen but great clarity, to be expected from the leaf profile. The word that kept ringing in my head while tasting this tea was "clean;" there certainly is no excessive astringency, nor is there any muddiness or harshness of flavor that can often plague cheap black tea. The flavor is a balanced mix of both high, sweet notes and a lower, maltier, medium-bodied base. Compared with our other Chinese blacks, this tea's certainly unique. The range of flavor and mouth sensation is much wider than that of our bassy Keemun; compared with Yunnan Gold, it's a bit drier, less pungently sweet, and purer. Additionally, there's a definite vibrant energy to this tea's mouthfeel and finish that really reminded me of the experience of drinking fresh Chinese green tea.

Because it's been aged a couple of years, I recommend brewing this tea just a little bit stronger to reawaken its complexity. As shown above, the leaves don't open fully even after a full steeping--a sign that this tea will actually be good for a few tries or maybe even steeped gong fu style. Stop by and try this special tea soon--we've only got a limited quantity and it's already proven popular with our more discriminating black tea drinkers!

Elliot

More on Da Hong Pao

2010-11-03T21:19:00.000-07:00

Check out this recent Wall Street Journal article regarding the famous Wuyi Yan Cha Da Hong Pao. The gist is that Da Hong Pao prices have recently skyrocketed in China because shops and individual people have been speculating with the tea--purchasing it for the purposes of investment. This article is illuminating for a number of reasons; some are obvious and some are not so obvious.

For starters, it reminds us Western tea fans that tea really isn't "our" beverage--when it comes to Chinese tea, domestic demand almost always trumps exportability. In this case, the market has (rather unrealistically) decided that there's enough demand for Da Hong Pao that 1000% price increases accurately value the tea. As the article makes clear, though, this price is unsustainable and vendors aren't able to sell much of the oolong at current inflated prices. Moreover, it's pretty interesting to see how integral tea is to Chinese culture. What do you invest in when real estate and stocks are unstable and high-risk? How about a rare tea? It's funny to think about as an American, but this sort of thing (including the 2007 pu-erh market bubble) indicates that some Chinese view tea as a viable form of investment--however, the pacing of this surge also seems to suggest that any potential profit has already been made and that the late-comers are stuck with some (hopefully delicious) unsellably expensive tea.

From another angle, this article is a good reminder that no matter how fun a hobby tea can be, it's still ultimately a commodity and is subject to even the most basic economic principles of supply and demand. For those of us who don't reside in China, it's easy to feel toyed-with when the price increases are piled onto our already marked-up tea prices. Additionally, when a tea's value achieves such a status, on come the fakes--you can bet there are hundreds of kilos of cheap Shui Xian being sold as "real" Da Hong Pao. Another bad sign for us consumers. What to do? It's still the best policy to buy from vendors you trust who have as long a history as possible and a close relationship with their tea producers--one of the reasons we count ourselves lucky to partner with Seven Cups, who I've just now seen has its own article on the same subject!

Finally, this article provides yet more evidence that there's a lot more going into your tea cup than just a few leaves from a bush somewhere in the far East. It can be pretty interesting and bewildering to dive down the rabbit hole and find out just how much is going on before the hot water hits the leaves in front of you.

Elliot

Try This! Tea Infused Vodka with Mokalbari Assam

2010-10-30T16:53:00.000-07:00

"What is the best tea to infuse with vodka?" a friendly customer asks me one day.

With a store of over 200 teas, meeting customers looking for specific teas for very specific purposes, becomes a game of "Stump the Chump" on a very regular basis. Luckily, I love a good challenge. To me, it adds variety to our work and it's also one of the reasons why we provide such a vast variety of teas to begin with. You can never get the type of customized service, advice and variety of product from a grocery store or even online, than from a brick and mortar tea shop.

"No problem." I tell him. But honestly, I was a little in over my head because I'm not much of an alcohol drinker and my least favorite liquor was certainly, vodka. While I did not want to be the cause of a failed experiment, I remained confident. I knew my teas and I knew what I IMAGINED a good tea-infused vodka would taste like.

We quickly decided that black teas were the best tea to play around with an experiment like this. Black teas have robust yet accessible flavors, and their amber coloration when steeped always make them ideal teas for infusions in beverages, cooking and baking. I picked out three contenders. New Vithana Ceylon, a gorgeous flowery ceylon with tightly rolled golden tips. It's best drunk alone to enjoy it's mellow honey-like flavors. Meleng Assame, a good everyday tea that represents all the qualities of a typical assam -- hearty, robust and clean, brisk flavor.

And finally, Mokalbari Assam, my go to tea for anyone looking for a strong, malty yet smooth tea. It has a lot of complex flavors that can grab a hold of a tea drinker's attention and the flavor doesn't fade away as quickly when combined with milk or other additives. After sampling each of the teas, he settled on my favorite, Mokalbari Assam, believing the strong woodsy and almost sweet flavor of the tea would compliment and stand up well infused in a vodka. It proved to be a wise choice.

A couple of months later, while sipping tea outside the store on a warm and pleasant day, the same customer came back, greeting me with a generous bottle of freshly infused tea vodka! The experiment was a success! He encourages me to "serve it with some tonic with a spritz of lemon and it will taste just like a real iced tea." Well, I'm sipping this vodka now (straight) as I write this post and I have to say that the results are surprisingly good. The vodka used in this experiment was Svedka vodka, an affordable wheat grain vodka that's strong with an unexpected smoothness. The Mokalbari Assam did the job beautifully, as the distinct flavors of the black assam lingers in gradually, blending very easily with the vodka and providing hints of fruit at the end of a tasting. As the mouth salivate and puckers in the finish, a clear taste of ripe green grapes can be detected. Who would of thought!

To make tea infused vodka at home, it's as simple as adding tea leaves to vodka and forgetting about it. Choose a tea that's strong enough to hold it's own while complimenting the base flavor of the liquor. Black teas are always a good choice but a Japanese green tea (like a Sencha or Gyokuro) may be interesting as well. Use at least 1-2 ounces of tea per bottle and leave it in the liquor for at least 2 days, either in the refrigerator or in room temperature. Then strain out the tea and enjoy!

Now that my mind has been opened to the possibilities of infusing alcohol with tea, I'm really looking forward to playing around with other tea and vodka combinations. Readers, if you happen to have any experience in this (or decide to embark upon some experimenting on your own), please share with us interesting results you have discovered. I'd love to read more about the possiblities. Cheers!

A Change of Seasons (Wuyi Oolongs Return!)

2010-10-13T15:49:00.000-07:00

There's no denying that fall is now upon us--as we say goodbye to those hot summer days (or in our case here in Seattle, give up on this year's summer ever actually happening), it's natural for our tea tastes to shift a little bit. Those vegetal green teas and light, floral oolongs that were thirst-quenching during summer months may not seem quite as comforting when the weather starts cooling off and daylight hours wane. Wuyi oolongs to the rescue! These oolongs are traditionally higher-oxidized and much more roasted than your typical green Tieguanyin and High Mountain Taiwanese oolongs, which means their pure floral notes are rounded--a bit fruitier and accompanied by a robust roasted note, which makes them perfect for cold weather! Coincidentally, these teas are traditionally given a period of several months to rest after processing to allow the flavors to blend successfully, which means they're drinkable right when fall comes around!

We've just received this year's harvest of five different Wuyi rock oolongs--Da Hong Pao, Tie Luo Han, Rou Gui, Old Bush Shui Xian and Shui Jin Gui. Like last year, we sourced these teas with a whole lot of help and legwork from our good friends at Seven Cups tea. It's exciting to get these teas because of the change in season, but also because it gives us a chance to compare a second season of tea with last year's harvest. The above shot (photos by Jeannie) of our new Da Hong Pao's luscious leaves tells the story pretty well--the leaves are dark brown with a few rusty edges, a sign of plenty of careful oxidation and roasting. In the cup it's dark reddish amber, which is another great sign. Tasting these teas, I was really excited to notice plenty of fire taste--the roasting is still pretty apparent, and that's the way I like my Wuyi rock oolongs. With a heavier roast, the tea's quality is less susceptible to deterioration (if it's well-stored, of course), and its characteristics will continue to develop as time passes.

Since we still have a small quantity of a few of last year's Wuyi oolongs, we've also had an opportunity to compare what a year does to a similar tea. Tasting last year's Old Bush Shui Xian, I was really surprised how much the roasting flavor has mellowed in a year's time (considering we haven't stored the tea specifically for aging). The gentle floral notes and mineral aftertaste are more prominent and the roast lingers in the background. The 2010 counterpart, on the other hand, is quite robust with up-front roasting and floral notes that are more apparent in the nose after swallowing. Most interesting, though, is that it's possible (even easy) to draw a clear connection between this year's tea and last year's, despite the obvious differences. Likewise, the Da Hong Pao's incomparable high acidic notes, Tie Luo Han's rich broadness, and Rou Gui's fruity/spiciness all are apparent, there's just more of an element of fire in the mix.

Everyone has their own tastes for oolong. Right now, these teas taste perfect to me. They've been in my cup almost every day since they arrived (a very good sign!). As they mellow out in the next few months, though, I think they'll become even more accessible and balanced, which is one of my favorite things about Wuyi oolongs--they're always drinkable, but they're also always changing.

Autumnal Landscapes: Kathleen Wolfe - Oct. Artist of the Month

2010-10-06T23:46:00.000-07:00

One of the greatest perks for me of owning and running my own business has been the freedom to customize what we do, so I can dabble in other interests that are also meaningful to me, one of which is art. Mind you, as much as I wish, I don't have a lick of skill, talent or drive to be an artist myself but it doesn't lessen the fact that I love art. As an entrepreneur, I empathize with the process of having an idea or vision and then to brave the process of extracting that idea out of our heads and into the real world, where it is made tangible and experienced by others. There is very little in this world that is more satisfying to me than the process of creation. But unlike business, the enjoyment of art, similar to tea, has the ability to calm and focus my thoughts, forcing me to be in touch with my senses while being honest with myself, to be refective. What do I see? What are my reactions? How do I feel about what I see? What do I know or don't know that would help me understand what I see? In tasting tea, I ask these same questions but in context of smell and taste as well.

Finding a space with over 15 feet tall ceilings and almost enless amounts of wall space for artwork, has given me the opportunity to combine my love of art and tea. I have so thoroughly enjoyed working with all the artists that have shown at Miro over the last several years. Witnessing how each month, our store is morphed and injected with new style and energy with each new artist. And this month, we welcome the month of October with the beautifully painted oil landscapes of Kathleen Wolfe.

There is something special about oil landscapes that warms a space and makes you want to curl up in your favorite corner with a good book and a cup of tea. They transport you to another place and time, make you nostalgic for old libraries and simpler times. This month, Miro Tea has been transformed again with dreamy scenes of places forgotten and unseen. The store feels warm and cozy and in some ways, more intimate.

As with most artist's works, Kathleens' paintings are best viewed in person. My photography fails to capture all the depth and variegation of colors as well as the heavy textures from her loaded brush that brings great dimension and mood to the each of the paintings. You can see more close up photos of her work on her blog, here, but they truly are worth seeing in person. My favorite one is in the top photo, in the bottom left corner. When viewed up close, the blossoms of the cherry trees glisten as the sun shines through and fragments onto the grassy slope. Everytime I look at that painting, I want to dive in and sit under that very tree and stare up at the pretty white flowers and just be lost for awhile.

If you would like to learn more about the Kathleen and her work, I invite you to join us Oct. 9th from 6pm - 9pm, for the monthly Ballard Artwalk. You can view the paintings in person and speak with the artist herself. Hope you can come!

A new year, a new blog and a very belated introduction...

2010-10-05T23:23:00.000-07:00

Hmm . . . where to start? It's been almost a year since our last entry; the blog looks very different now, and I am not Elliot. So I guess that means an introduction would be in order :)

Tea break at the Pearl River
Mart in NYC

My name is Jeannie and I'm the founder of Miro Tea. I was awakened to "real" tea when I was in college in one of those 'a-ha!' moments when you discover something the way that it was truly meant to be. Before that, my knowledge was limited to strong, bitter cups of Chinese green tea, prepared by my parents who believed that the more bitter the tea, the better it was, and that drinking tea was done more for medicinal reasons than for pleasure. However, when coffee failed to give me the steadiness and concentration I needed to finish my college papers at 3:00 am, I was re-introduced to tea by a good friend, who showed me that good tea, when prepared properly, enables you to discover and appreciate its full, beautiful and nuanced flavors. Flavors that one did not even know existed in this world. And so with that, my future changed. I decided early in my life that I wanted to own my own business, and I also believed deeply in the Buddhist ethic of not profitting from another's suffering or misfortune. I also felt that the American public--and specifically coffee-buzzed Seattlites--was ready to re-discover an alternative to their caffeine habit. And so the idea of Miro Tea was born.

Our mission with Miro Tea is simple. Encourage more people to drink and love tea. There's no snobbery or pretense at Miro Tea. We just love talking about and drinking teas of all varieties, and we believe strongly that the best way to encourage people to explore and ultimately adopt a new product is by appealing to ALL of their senses (sight, smell, taste, touch and even sound) in an environment that is as warm and approachable as the people serving and educating you about the product.

Our blog re-launch parallels our increased efforts to source even better teas (and talk more about them), and to recount the day-to-day activities of our store (which includes our beloved customers and staff) that is ultimately the heart and soul of Miro Tea. In the coming weeks and months, we will have a total of three different TEAm members who will be contributing regularly to this blog. Elliot (whom you have previously met via his eloquent tea tasting entries) will delve deeper into the details of specific teas than one would think is even possible. Rachael, our arts and events coordinator, will be sharing more information about upcoming art and music events, as well as the tea workshops that we have been busy pulling together. And finally me, to talk about everything else that Rachael and Elliot don't cover!

Since it's been 20 years since my last diary entry (and this being my first blog entry), please bear with me as I spend the coming months getting accustomed to the notion of sharing my opinions, experiences and passion for tea with you through this online medium rather than doing it with you in person at our store. Please feel free to comment or email us if you have any feedback or have any questions about tea, what you see on this site, or about Miro Tea in general. I look forward to hearing from you. Gan bei!

Special Winter Menu: Wuyi Oolongs

2009-12-08T10:45:00.000-08:00

Greetings, patient readers! I've had precious little tea news to report for a long stretch; unfortunately, managing day-to-day store operations takes precedence over fun blogging projects, and we've been quite busy in the store preparing for the holidays and attending to our loyal customers. This news, though, is too tasty to keep under wraps: With the help of Seven Cups we've recently acquired a selection of five top-quality Chinese Wuyi oolongs, which we are now featuring in a special seasonal menu in the store--and just in time for this spate of extremely cold days!

High-quality and authentic Wuyi oolongs can be difficult to come by, which is why Seven Cups' sourcing skills (they literally personally source all of the teas they carry, traveling to each province of origin and purchasing teas from the tea masters who produce them) are much appreciated--these are great teas.

If you're not familiar with Wuyi oolongs, here's a brief introduction from way-back. Generally, these are stripe-rolled, roasted Chinese oolongs. Most are named after the cultivar, or genetic "type" of tea plant that they come from. My goals with bringing our customers these teas are first to replace our out-of-stock Wuyi offerings, and second to offer a broad range of teas that exhibit the potential quality Wuyi oolongs can aspire to, as well as the differences between different tea cultivars and processing, with special emphasis on roast level. So, without further ado, here are some brief impressions on our new teas.

Da Hong Pao (Big Red Robe) pronounced DAH hung POW
The most widely-acclaimed Wuyi oolong is also the most often-faked. Because of its international popularity, authentic Da Hong Pao is almost always one of the most expensive Wuyi teas, but its popularity is earned. This Da Hong Pao blends the tea's unique acidity with a really smooth body, making it a little less bright but more balanced than some other examples. The roasting is on the lighter side of medium, with plenty of room for the tea's floral and buttery aspects to shine, and the rich mouthfeel marches along nicely through the infusions. Da Hong Pao is the standard by which all other Wuyi oolongs are measured, so trying a good one like this is "required tasting," both so you can understand the ideal characteristics of these teas, but also so you can understand what makes the other cultivars different. Most importantly, though, if your only Wuyi experience has been low-grade, over-roasted generic Wuyi oolong with the words "Da Hong Pao" slapped on the box for the purposes of extra profit, get ready to have your eyes opened!

Lao Cong Shui Xian (Old Bush Water Sprite) pronounced LAOW CHONG SHWAY see-en
Shui Xian is the most widely-cultivated Wuyi oolong (not sure why, but I assume it's because of the plant's hardiness and yield); it's even popular enough that it's also cultivated in Taiwan and Feng Huang in Guangdong province. This particular Shui Xian is grown toward the center of the Wuyi reserve and it comes from plants that are over 30 years old. This means the roots have had plenty of time to penetrate the rich soil and receive a well-rounded nutrient supply. This tea offers one of the higher roast levels of the five, but I'd still say it occupies the "medium" range of the spectrum. Shui Xian offers a really balanced flavor with equal measures of flowers, fruits and a wee bit of spice. On first tasting, this is near the top of my list for favorites, and it's one of the better values of the five. I really enjoyed the thick mouthfeel, and there were some interesting changes from infusion to infusion.

Rou Gui (Cinnamon/Cassia Aroma) pronounced ROW GWAY
Rou Gui is another very popular cultivar, and one of the most distinct-tasting ones at that. Like the name implies, this tea tends to be spicy. I was really impressed by this tea's medium roasting; many Rou Gui I've tried tend to be heavily roasted. To my tastes, a medium roast compliments the dark spice notes more elegantly, although I do have to say I'd prefer heavy roasting to a light roast. This tea has a good, strong tea base, and is honestly probably my favorite Rou Gui I've ever tried.

Shui Jin Gui (Golden Marine Turtle) pronounced SHWAY jin GWAY
Shui Jin Gui is one of my favorite Wuyi cultivars; in my experience it tends to be medium-light roasted, silky smooth, with a pure flavor that makes me want to keep drinking and drinking. In the past week, this tea has already become a favorite with some of our regulars--it's complex, mellow, and the lightly toasty aroma is remarkably chocolatey. In the cup, it's one of the lighter of the teas, but I think a lighter roasting is appropriate for a tea with such a nice, darkly floral character.

Tie Luo Han (Iron Warrior Monk) pronounced TEE-eh luh-wo HAHN
Finally, we have this light-roast Tie Luo Han. Although the roasting level is denoted as "light," after tasting this tea a few times I'd place it more on the medium level, although it's certainly not as heavy a roast as this tea traditionally receives. I've been really surprised by this tea's flavor, which strongly reminds me of the sort of spiced apple desserts that are a hallmark of fall and winter American cuisine. The lighter roasting really showcases this fruitiness, whereas a high roasting would probably obscure this element and completely alter the character of the tea. This tea might win the award for most complex of the selection as well.

I hope you'll take the opportunity to stop in and try a few of these teas--In China, winter is traditionally viewed as the best time to drink these warming, roasty teas, and I find myself agreeing more and more with every sip!

Live Music: Brian Sterkovsky 10/10 7pm

2009-10-09T09:04:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow night we're hosting a very special guest for the October Artwalk: Brian Sterkovsky.

Not only does Brian play and build harps, he also plays electric banjo and writes and sings his own words and poetry. Not only does he do all this, he's one of our favorite regular customers at Miro Tea! Tomorrow night at 7pm Brian will be performing on harp as well as doing some spoken word performance for the Artwalk opening of Maryam Tohidi. For a taste of Brian's work, you can visit his MySpace (http://www.myspace.com/briansterkovsky)--you'll get a sampling of his eerie harp originals, as well as his spoken word and gitjo songs. He's also got two albums worth of material (one of harp and one of gitjo/singing) available for purchase digitally or on CD.

Brian is extremely talented and a great friend of Miro Tea, so come on down tomorrow night, grab a roasted apple fig and walnut crepe (with ice cream) and a cup of Irish Breakfast tea, and show your support!

Guardian Ear - Live Music Saturday 9-19

2009-09-18T17:06:00.001-07:00

As some of you out there know, we occasionally have live music at Miro Tea. Tomorrow (Saturday) at 8 pm we'll be hosting Guardian Ear, a local Seattle band. They play a pretty interesting blend of experimental acoustic chamber music--guitar, oboe, percussion and cello--definitely different from your average coffee house strummers, and it should be a great energy and fit for Miro's space. See you tomorrow night...

http://www.myspace.com/guardianear

July Artwalk: Aba Diallo

2009-07-23T17:36:00.000-07:00

The busy summer months haven't left much time for blogging here at Miro Tea, so I'm here to quickly introduce this month's artist and mention that this hot (for Seattle) weather is perfect for enjoying iced tea...feel free to stop by, check out Aba's art, and try one of our Green Tea Mojitos or an iced tea latté or chai!

Aba Diallo was born in Dakar, Senegal, a busy, international port on
the Atlantic Coast of Africa. In school he studied philosophy and
literature as well as the French language. After high school, he
moved to Goree Island (World Heritage Site), a tourist and historic
destination 20 minutes west of downtown Dakar. There he bagan to work
for his uncle who owns an art gallery selling sculptures, paintings,
jewelery and other handicrafts made by local artists. After a year of
this type of work he soon took interest in the origins of the art
pieces at the boutique. He became friends with veteran painters on
the island and began an apprenticeship, learning many things about the
art scene and business on the island. He started to create his own
style of painting using collage and a technique of sewing canvases
together to make “patch-work” paintings. This type of work is truly
his passion in life, second only to God, it is a way to express
himself and show the way of life he has grown up with, while
supporting himself and his family.

It's been a great pleasure looking at Aba's art for the last few weeks. Not only do the bright colors fill our space with energy, the tapestry-style hangings really make the works stand out and grab attention in a really unique way! He's already sold several pieces, so stop by and check them out before they're all gone! The art will be up for a couple more weeks, but you can check it out on Aba's website any time: http://www.abadiallo.com

Happy summer!

Elliot

June Artwalk: Courtney Morgan...Music by Elliot Knapp

2009-06-08T18:16:00.000-07:00

June is already upon us, which means we're showing new art! It's a real pleasure for me to introduce our June artist because she's a close personal friend. Courtney Morgan is a Walla Walla native. She majored in art at Whitman College and recently received an MA in design studies at Central St. Martin's College of Art and Design in London. Her show, titled "Please Clap Your Hands," is a collection of oil paintings inspired by a visit to a friend's farm house in Denmark, the colors in a display case at a Florence gelateria, and song lyrics. She describes her paintings as clean, bright, hopeful and poignant. The bright, lively colors are looking great in Miro Tea's space, and I'd add that Courtney's inimitable sense of humor is also evident in spades.

As usual, the Artwalk event opens the second Saturday of the month--many Ballard businesses will be showing art as well. In celebration of Courtney's opening, we'll also be featuring some live music at the event. Performing this Saturday night will be...well, er, me. Since my lyrics are integrated into some of Courtney's paintings, I agreed to emerge from self-imposed exile to perform. I'll be joined on"stage" for a few songs by another Miro employee, Nick Arthur. I hate to have to describe my own music, so I'll say that I write and sing songs, accompanying myself on acoustic guitar. The songs I write are sometimes difficult to box into tidy genre categories, but things that are important to me as a songwriter are lyrics, interesting guitar parts, and experimentation. I've been making music for about 8 years and performed quite a bit in college but have lately been sidelined due to some health issues with my vocal cords.

Courtney's opening is a special event for me, though, so I'm ecstatic to be able to participate. I've got a song sample on my Myspace for anyone interested. The art opening and music will go from 7-9 pm and should be a really fun time.

Courtney's paintings will be up all month--please feel free to stop by for a look if you can't make it to the opening! I'll be back soon to discuss some tea news...

Elliot

May's Artwalk: Winston Haycock

2009-05-05T21:46:00.000-07:00

For any readers out there who aren't already aware, many businesses in Seattle's Ballard neighborhood participate in a monthly event called "Artwalk." Basically, businesses host local artists and display their art on a monthly basis, and the second Saturday of each month is the official "opening," during which most businesses host receptions and the artists are usually there to represent their work. Miro Tea has been hosting art every month since we opened, and our blog is an excellent way to get a little bit more information about our artists to the public.

This May's artist is Winston Haycock. I had the pleasure of meeting Winston yesterday when he came in to hang his art. He's got a great energy and it really translates well to his art--our walls are looking fantastic with lots of bright, stimulating color. Included here are some samples of Winston's pieces that are currently hanging at Miro, as well as a few pics of some "pop nostalgia" pieces Winston also wanted the public to see, along with Winston's bio. Please feel free to stop by and meet Winston at this Saturday's opening--the Artwalk event officially lasts from 6-9 pm, and Winston's art will be up all month!

Winston Haycock has been creating multimedia paintings since 2000 when he discovered the fun of seeing different paints react to one another, changing their original form into something quite different with each experimentation. He has made over 1,000 of these paintings and can't wait to get to the next body of work after a series has been finished. He is getting quite known in the Pacific Northwest for this style and also enjoys painting pop style oils based in the nostalgic vein, which he calls his ongoing Sinatra Series, a style inspired by his landscape-painting mother, Velma Young, who brought him up with classic movies from a very early age . She taught him the landscape and how to use a palette knife, and he eventually learned (he is a self - taught artist) photo realism in pencil and graduated to brushes and oils.

Winston focused on the portrait from the urging of his father, Dave, and eventually was painting famous people in surreal group landscape settings, some in a sort of a children's storybook fantasy land, and others from real movie still photos . He made his first abstract multimedia piece in 1999 using coffee beans encased in wax, and found the mixed media a welcome break from the very crisp, tight lined nostalgic oil work, so he started having shows mixing the two styles together. He now keeps each style separate when having a show, and the current opening he is having on May 9th is no exception. This will be Winston's 33rd artist reception and the show is indeed whimsical, focusing on his new Hidden Poem series, he includes his new flat oil abstract series and new patina copper series, all together a very highly textural and colorful show. The flat oil abstracts were inspired by a recent commission from a family member, and the copper patina color ties the whole body of work together and makes the show complete. Encompassing the full spectrum of color and playing with '' text''(ing), Winston gives the public a very childlike but sincerely thoughtful show of decorative fun pieces, which have been doing very well in the Ballard area. His media include common table salt, wood stain, aluminum foil tape, caramel colored hide glue, roof tar patch, drywall cement patch, oil bar, airplane enamel, ground marble and glass, encaustic beeswax/oil bonding and many other mixtures of interesting paint, including Japan paint and acrylic gel. Winston's work is reasonably priced ($80-$120) because he can make about 20-40 pieces each month. The work is often 3 feet in length enough room on the wood panels he uses to show what different paints do when mixed in unorthodox ways, but not too big to find a spot above your piano or sofa! Winston is currently illustrating a children's book about his cat Francis Mcoullagh for Random House, and also paints wine labels for wineries in eastern Washington, where he has a permanent show of ongoing work at the 6th Street Gift & Art Gallery in Prosser, WA (509-786-3088). He can be reached at home in his studio at 206-588-0222 or by email at winstonhaycock@gmail.com.

An interesting news article

2009-04-07T08:39:00.000-07:00

Tea drinkers who get their news online may have already seen this recent article, which describes a scientific study that linked regular steaming hot tea drinking with an increase of esophageal cancer. The study took place in Iran, where black tea drinking is widespread in its popularity. Interestingly, the study found that drinking tea at 'steaming hot' temperature (between 149º and 159º F) doubles the risk of cancer, and drinking tea at temperatures above 159º F increases the risk eightfold!

Of course, once I read this, I broke out the thermometer and quickly started experimenting with drinking water at different temperatures. Personally, I find that the temperature at which I like to drink tea is generally below 150º; I tried 160º water and, not surprisingly (I don't have an especially high tolerance for hot drinks) it was a little too hot for my tastes. The study also notes that most cultures that prefer to add milk to their tea don't have an especially high instance of esophageal cancer, most likely because the milk cools the tea to a lower temperature. Of course, this is only one study, so we should probably wait for more evidence before taking it as scientific law, but it does raise a few interesting points.

I think it's a good reminder that, ideally, tea can be an opportunity to relax and make a concentrated effort to take a short break in the day to sit and enjoy the intricacies of a delicious beverage--waiting a couple of extra minutes for your tea to cool can be an opportunity to get your thoughts together and focus on what you need to get done for the day, or it could just be a chance to anticipate the tea you're about to experience. I know some people feel like "the hotter the better," but I find that a really complex tea's flavor is usually much easier to appreciate if it's had a chance to cool down a little. Finally, I think this study exhibits one of the most difficult aspects of scientific tea studies--the tea drinkers in the study all consumed black tea. It seems to me that with the effects that different processing techniques have on the composition of tea leaves, combined with the different methods used to prepare the teas, it must be a bit difficult to generalize anything about tea without meticulously including all different tea types in a study. That is to say, for example, does drinking steaming hot oolong affect cancer risk in the same way? Studies that focus on the health benefits of tea have returned some pretty solid evidence that the different tea types at least have different strengths when it comes to health benefits, so I think it stands to reason that they might show slight physiological differences in other studies. Reading tea studies is always exciting, since each study is another link in a growing chain of evidence that helps us make more confident claims about how tea affects the human body. Unfortunately, because of the variables involved, tea is such a complicated, multifaceted subject that it will probably be quite a while before we've mastered it as a subject.

Elliot

The C-word: Caffeine

2009-03-25T08:35:00.000-07:00

One subject that never fails to arise during a day of serving tea is that of caffeine. Common questions we hear include: "Can you help me find a tea with lower caffeine?" "How much caffeine does this tea have?" "Green [white, oolong] tea has lower caffeine than black tea, right?" or "Is it true that if you steep a tea for 30 seconds, most of the caffeine is removed?"

The one thing we can be sure of is this: Tea--the Camellia sinensis plant--always contains caffeine. Even decaffeinated teas still contain some caffeine (though it's usually less than 3% of the original amount). In reality, caffeine testing is an extremely expensive, technology-intensive process, and most tea producers, distributors and especially independently-owned tea shops like Miro Tea couldn't dream of affording this costly sort of testing. In fact, the volume and range of scientific studies on caffeine content in different tea types, caffeine extraction over time and temperature, and the way different processing steps affect caffeine content is actually quite limited, meaning that there isn't really a significant body of evidence to make claims about these subjects ironclad in any way. The unfortunate reality is that many tea-related businesses deal with these ambiguities by taking shortcuts and liberties with the facts that are often blatantly inaccurate and misleading, not to mention the fact that they perpetuate misinformation in such a way that incorrect assertions like "white tea is low in caffeine" have become common "knowledge."

There are, however, a few general items that seem reasonable to say regarding caffeine content. Factors that seem to indicate high caffeine content in tea include: Higher quality leaves (generally the buds and first leaves), large amounts of nitrogen fertilizers, species of tea plant (assamica plants have shown higher caffeine content than sinensis), the condition of the leaves (broken leaves expose more surface area to the water), longer steeping time, and higher water temperature. However, it's not even as simple as tallying these variables--high quality leaves usually contain more theanine, a compound which has been shown to act in a way that is physiologically contrary to caffeine, for example. Another factor that I think is often overlooked is that many people report that the caffeine in different tea types (green, white, etc.) affect them differently. Combining these physiological factors with the dearth of scientific evidence on the numerous other factors, if we were to claim that, say, our Meleng Assam has more caffeine than our Sencha, it would be an almost laughable proposition (if it weren't so irresponsible).

So, what is the best way to approach this complex subject when customers ask questions? I honestly feel sympathetic for the tea companies who take the easy but inaccurate way out when spreading inaccurate information about caffeine--it's tough to provide ambiguous answers in a customer service situation--but honesty and transparency are key principles in good customer service relationships, so I can't condone oversimplification for the sake of brevity. I prefer to concisely explain that tea's caffeine content is much more complicated than popular sources let on, and that the number of contributing factors and the cost of testing make determination of caffeine content very difficult. If a customer is extremely concerned with avoiding caffeine, I recommend botanicals or rooibos--complete abstinence from caffeine is a sure thing. Otherwise, I'll recommend that the customer try whichever tea they're interested in the morning and take note of how effective the caffeine is for future reference. The one situation in which I feel confident describing a tea as "lower in caffeine" is when the tea is a blend with a significant amount of botanicals. Since we measure our tea by weight for each serving, teas like Genmaicha and Masala Mint Green contain, gram-by-gram, less tea leaves than pure tea blends do, so there will obviously be a lower caffeine content. These are about the most concise answers I can think of that sacrifice the least accuracy. Luckily, we also have this blog as another medium for a slightly more suitably detailed (though still not really scientific) description. If your scientific appetite has been piqued at all, I encourage you to check out the venerable Cha Dao Blog's past posting Caffeine and Tea: Myth and Reality, to which I've made general reference a couple of times in this posting. The article is pretty academically rigorous and it includes citations of the existing relevant studies and figures from their findings. Also of note is the ensuing discussion in the entry's comment section, which continues the myth-busting spirit of the article in several meaningful ways.

I hope this posting has been at least a little illuminating about this difficult subject--hopefully the next few years will see the publication of some more relevant scientific studies so the "mystery" aspect will diminish a bit.

Elliot

Join us for Complimentary Tea Tastings Every Sunday

2009-02-24T21:03:00.000-08:00

I've been conducting guided tea tastings off and on for the past few months--now I think I've got the kinks worked out and am ready to advertise the tea tastings as a regular event, so here goes:

Please join me at Miro Tea every Sunday from 1-3 pm for complimentary guided tea tasting. During the two-hour period I will be sampling any number of our 200+ teas--what we taste is up to those who are participating in the tasting, so it's a great opportunity to learn about the differences between the major tea types, compare the small differences between very similar teas, or learn to appreciate the process behind gong fu tea brewing. These tea tastings are also a nice chance to learn a bit more background on the history and processing of some of your favorite teas.

Sundays are a great day to drop by Miro Tea--the year-round farmer's market is bustling on Ballard Avenue right outside our front door and the entire neighborhood is very lively and busy. Please take a relaxing stroll through the market and stop by Miro afterward--I'd be delighted to share a cup of tea with you!

Elliot

Miro Tea mentioned in Sunset Magazine

2009-01-07T12:29:00.000-08:00

We're excited to announce that Miro Tea has been mentioned as one of the West Coast's top ten tea houses in January's issue of Sunset magazine. In the short paragraph, Miro was listed as the #3 tea house and this blog was even mentioned!

If you're visiting our blog because you read the Sunset article, welcome! I hope you find the back catalog of postings helpful in your tea journeys, and feel free to ask any questions you may have. I usually don't have complete answers, but am happy to help search them out! For me, the chance to continue exploring and learning about tea is the best part about writing this blog.

See you online, and maybe even at Miro Tea!

Elliot

Rou Gui (Wuyi Cassia) Tasting Notes

2009-01-03T14:02:00.000-08:00

Welcome to 2009! To finish off the recent series of Wuyi Yen Cha posts, I've got tasting notes for our Rou Gui (which we call Wuyi Cassia). I'll do my best to keep this post a little less long-winded than the Da Hong Pao tasting notes, but sometimes nerdy tea enthusiasm exceeds my restraint! As I mentioned in the introductory post, Rou Gui is both a "tea type" and a genetically unique cultivar of the tea plant. Although Rou Gui isn't one of the four famous Wuyi oolong cultivars (known in Chinese as the Si Da Ming Cong--Da Hong Pao, Shui Jin Gui, Tie Lo Han and Bai Ji Guan), it is certainly one of the more common varieties and is often served at restaurants alongside Shui Xian as a popular table tea. In spite of its popularity, it's still very much possible to find premium examples that stand up to elite gong fu grades of the Si Da Ming Cong.

The dry leaves aren't too different in appearance from those of the Da Hong Pao--nice big, whole leaves. They're perhaps a bit darker with a little more contrast between the frosting and leaf color. Smelling the leaves after the first infusion, I notice that the roast seems a bit more dominant than with the Da Hong Pao. Similarly to the other tea, though, the roast in the aroma diminishes after a couple of infusions. If I had to use one word to contrast this tea with the Da Hong Pao, I'd use "darker." The heavier roast is immediately apparent, and the characteristic Rou Gui flavor takes slightly more effort to appreciate. It's there, though--"Rou Gui" is often translated as cinnamon or cassia--as the roasting character diminishes over the 2nd and 3rd infusions, a delightfully dark spiciness emerges. This tea's acidity is nowhere near as pronounced as the Da Hong Pao's is, and the body tends to be a bit fuller as well. Later infusions produce a balanced but fading combination of roast and spice, with the expected astringency getting my mouth watering. Compared with the Da Hong Pao's high and penetrating notes, this Rou Gui's full, round and dark bottom makes for a pleasant contrast.

Examining the spent leaves shows some similarities with the Da Hong Pao--leaves alternate between very dark to slightly greener, but there are many large examples to be found. Our staff's reaction has been split between these two teas--to me, that's a sign that they're both good! Personally, my tastes gravitate a bit toward the slightly lighter roast (you can see below that the Rou Gui's leaves are more blistered than the Da Hong Pao's), but the full body and darkness of the Rou Gui makes for an excellent and comforting winter warmer!

Elliot

Da Hong Pao (Big Red Robe) Tasting Notes

2008-12-31T12:29:00.000-08:00

At long last, I'm here to present tasting notes for our two new Wuyi Yen Cha. I started introducing this tea in an earlier post, so I'll only add a bit more info with regards to its origins. As I mentioned in that earlier post, Da Hong Pao is both a "finished" tea type and a genetically unique cultivar of tea plant. However, the history and origins of the Da Hong Pao cultivar are labyrinthine and hotly-debated. Guang at Hou De Asian Art has written two extremely illuminating articles about the origins of the Da Hong Pao cultivar (Part 1, Part 2), so I won't go too in depth regarding the history. Suffice to say that, yet again, there are plenty of tea merchants in China who are willing to pass off cheaper, often inferior Wuyi oolongs as "Da Hong Pao" and selling them to ill-informed customers at much higher prices than they deserve. This problem is compounded by the fact that many skilled Yen Cha tea masters have different opinions about which cultivar is proper for making a Da Hong Pao. This makes Da Hong Pao shopping very difficult for consumers, especially in the West. After trying as many "Da Hong Paos" as possible, I'm beginning to gain a modest understanding of Da Hong Pao's unique flavor profile. To me, Da Hong Pao is typified by a fruity, floral flavor that comes across as very "high," and acidic (i.e. lively and stimulating in the mouth). Of course, these characteristics can vary based on the innumerable other factors involved in processing, but the best Da Hong Paos I've tried all seemed to exhibit this flavor while the others tasted like overly-roasted generic Yen Cha. Outside of searching for Da Hong Pao's unique flavor, choosing a good example is a matter of meeting the criteria that all Yen Cha should meet--balance between roasting and tea flavor, mouthfeel and body, and aftertaste.

Enough tea geeking--let's move on to the task at hand: tasting our new Da Hong Pao! As you can see in the above picture, the leaves are large, complete, and dark in color with a light frosting. Large, complete leaves is a good sign--it means the tea has been handled with care and will be much more forgiving when brewing (broken leaves make strong, astringent and bitter tea much more easily). After loading up the gaiwan and pouring off the first quick infusion, the leaves smell incredible--the roast comes through first in the aroma, with a gentle, warm charcoal note which is followed (especially if you inhale deeply) by a pointed touch of flowers. As the infusions wear on, the roasted aroma backs off quite a bit--by the second and third infusions, the floral and caramel notes begin to rival and overpower the roasted ones. The flavor of the initial infusions is less dominated by the roast. At the first brief steep, it's nice and light, with a bit of acidity edging in. Later, the acidity comes into its own, combining both aspects of fruit and flowers in a way that is unique to Da Hong Pao.

The final infusions begin to taper off in strength at just the right time--right when you're ready for the tea to back off. As you can see in the picture the infused leaves are a sight to see! Even with multiple infusions, the leaves of a good Yen Cha will retain their stripe-rolled shape, never fully unfurling without help. The unfurled leaf on the left is MONSTROUS. By far the largest leaf I've found in so far in the entire batch--it measured 4 inches! Also of note is the difference in coloration--this tea's heavy oxidation leaves some of the leaves greener while some take on a darker, brownish color. As you can see in the final picture of the gaiwan, by the end of a brewing session, the leaves are positively overflowing. In my experience, a lot of leaves is the best way to ensure a long session with a Yen Cha, but short steeps are a must. If you only want a couple of good steeps out of your tea, reducing the leaf weight and lengthening the infusion time will also provide very good results with this tea.

Finally, I'll draw attention to this close-up picture of one unfurled leaf. In the macro picture (please excuse my camera's quality) you'll see some bubble-like blisters on the surface of the leaf. This sort of appearance is evidence of the tea's roasting level--lighter-roasted Yen Cha will show pretty much no bubbles on the leaf surface, while "traditional" Yen Cha will sometimes be covered in such blisters. If flavor alone isn't enough to accurately reveal to you the tea's roast level, inspecting a nice whole leaf is usually pretty reliable. "Traditional," (in the parlance of Wuyi Yen Cha) means heavy roasting. As I understand it, most Yen Cha used to be heavily roasted, and lighter and lighter roasts have only more recently come into fashion. Today, "tradional" connotes a high roast. If the tea's good, though, you should be able to taste and smell much more than just charcoal without trying too hard! I would consider this Da Hong Pao to be a Traditional-style Yen Cha, though its firing wasn't extreme. Hopefully sometime in the future we'll be able to offer a lightly-baked Da Hong Pao--the difference can be very educational and can be illuminating for entry-level Yen Cha drinkers who might think all Wuyi oolongs taste the same! Stay tuned for tasting notes for our Wuyi Rou Gui and, more importantly, have a happy new year!

Elliot

Happy Holidays from Miro Tea

2008-12-25T13:00:00.000-08:00

Holiday greetings from all of us here at Miro Tea! Seattle has been swamped by an extremely unusual snowstorm for over a week, so we're looking much more seasonal and festive than most of our other Christmases! Thankfully, hot tea and crepes are the perfect remedy for the cold weather! It's been an interesting week, since travel has been unorthodox, but our Ballard neighborhood is full of devoted local shoppers and we saw lots of familiar faces out and about on foot (and even cross country skis!) when driving was all but impossible. I certainly enjoyed walking to work on silent, icy streets--Mad Max style, down the middle of the road. Thanks to you, our customers, for making this holiday a warm one!

Unfortunately the busy holiday season has waylaid my plans to introduce our two new Wuyi oolongs, but I promise (New Year's resolution time!) to provide tasting notes post-haste!

Happy holidays to you and yours!

Elliot

New Wuyi Yen Cha Oolongs: Introduction and Yen Cha Brewing Tips

2008-12-04T14:26:00.000-08:00

Although we're featuring botanicals this month, I can't help but feature a couple of new arrivals to our tea menu--two Wuyi Yen Cha. I discussed this oolong type in a previous article, back when we had a serviceable but not outstanding example to provide our customers. Now, we've got two outstanding Wuyi oolongs and each deserves its own tasting notes.

As I noted in the introductory article, Wuyi is a mountain and nature reserve in Northern Fujian Province, China. "Yen Cha" means "rock," "crag," or "cliff" "tea," since the area is known for its precipitous mountain cliffs and many of the most famous tea bushes were first discovered clinging to the edges of the rocks. This first tea I'll be writing up is known as Da Hong Pao, or "Big Red Robe." If there is one flagship Wuyi Yen Cha, it's got to be Da Hong Pao--this tea is one of the Chinese 10 Famous Teas and certainly has the most worldwide recognition of all the Yen Cha. Because of its reputation, Da Hong Pao is often subject to falsification. Tea wholesalers will often sell low-grade, extremely high-roast Yen Cha under the name "Da Hong Pao" just to capitalize on the tea's reputation. This sort of practice can ruin the beginning tea enthusiast's experience with Yen Cha--a lot of tea drinkers think all Yen Cha taste the same (extremely roasted) and aren't worthy of attention as a serious tea. The fact is, Da Hong Pao has a characteristic flavor and mouthfeel, so long as the producer is skilled enough at making the tea. This is mostly because "Da Hong Pao" is not only a specific tea (as in beverage), it's also a genetically unique cultivar of tea bush that is reproduced asexually by planting cuttings from a parent plant. The same is true of Rou Gui (known at Miro Tea as "Wuyi Cassia"), our second new Yen Cha. Rou Gui is a less famous Yen Cha, but it is very popular in China as a solid Yen Cha choice. Rou Gui is so-named because of its cinnamon-like cassia aroma and flavor, which are more pronounced in higher grades.

Sitting down to taste our two new Yen Cha was a real pleasure, since they both exhibit the classic characteristics of high-quality Yen Cha but definitely taste distinct from one another. In addition to offering tasting impressions for these two teas, I hope these posts will serve as aids for brewing Yen Cha gong fu style; they can be tempermental, especially when used for multiple steepings, but a couple steps will greatly improve your drinking experience. The first step is to "stuff the pot." As you can see in this picture, my tiny (90 ml) gaiwan is about 3/4 full of leaf (over 5 grams worth!). This is a crucial step; for one thing, Yen Cha leaves are not especially tightly-rolled, so they look bigger than, say, a pellet rolled oolong, when in actuality the weight is lower. Secondly, packing the leaf in will make the tea last many more infusions. The second big step is using very short infusions. When I prepare Yen Cha, the first 4 infusions are generally instantaneous--as soon as the water has filled the pot or gaiwan and the lid is on, I begin pouring. Because there is so much leaf, there's a danger of oversteeping. If you keep the first few infusions short, you'll be able to really appreciate the changing character of the tea from steep to steep. After the first four infusions, I'll generally increase the infusion time by about 10 seconds per go, up to about 45 seconds, then by 15 seconds for two more, and a couple extra long infusions to see if the tea has any juice left. The third tip is to use a pot or gaiwan that retains heat very well--this porcelain gaiwan is a good device for accurately conveying the flavor of this yen cha, but a nice thick, high-fired Yixing clay pot will keep the temperature high, allowing the water (as close to boiling as possible) to extract as much flavor as possible, which is key during later infusions. Following these three principles (which differ quite a bit from more standard gong fu practices) has really helped me get more mileage and enjoyment out of my Yen Cha, and goodness knows I drink a lot of Yen Cha.

The flavor you should expect from a good Yen Cha brewed in this fashion should present a balance between the tea's roasting level (which varies from tea to tea) and the flavors of the tea leaves themselves, which also varies from cultivar to cultivar, but ranges from fruity to flowery to creamy to spicy, depending on the Yen Cha. Mouthfeel is usually pretty thick and a bit of mouth-watering astringency (due to the teas' roasting) generally starts to mount in later infusions, and many Yen Cha possess a pleasant and active acidity that tends to sparkle on the tongue. Really good Yen Cha will also exhibit what the Chinese call "hui gan," which is literally untranslatable, but roughly means something like "returning aftertaste." That is, the tea's flavor remains in your mouth after drinking, and is often enhanced with your breathing.

I'll be back soon with my impressions on our new Da Hong Pao and Rou Gui!

Elliot

Botanicals featured throughout December at Miro Tea

2008-12-03T13:24:00.000-08:00

This December, our "tea" type of the month is botanicals. What are botanicals, you ask? I'll tell you what! Most likely, you're actually already familiar with botanicals under a different name--"herbal tea," or perhaps "tisanes." The term refers to any infused beverage not made from the tea (Camellia sinensis) plant. Since "tea" specifically means Camellia sinensis, it's incorrect to call an herbal or floral infusion "tea." Additionally, not all non-tea infusions are "herbs," so "botanicals" makes a perfect all-encompassing name. Most botanicals are naturally caffeine-free, with the exception of yerba mate. Like our past featured teas, botanicals will get the royal treatment for the entire month:

15% off all botanical beverages and bulk purchases in-store.
Clearance botanicals can be found in our sale section.
An informational handout regarding the definitions of, preparation of, and potential health benefits of botanicals are available to take home.

Botanicals are not only a great replacement for hot caffeinated tea on these cold December days, they also make excellent additions to your favorite teas--a sprinkle of lemongrass or lavender can give your favorite breakfast blend an added kick, and we've got a nice selection of unblended botanicals for just that purpose!

Elliot

Chang Tai 2006 Tea Expo "Memorial" Hun Tie 100 gram mini cake

2008-11-29T18:12:00.000-08:00

This cute little mini-cake is 100 g, the same weight as a standard "bird's nest" or tuo cha, and about 250 grams smaller than your average pu-erh bing. As the attractive wrapper (I love the texture and slight transparency of the paper) says, this tea was produced by Chang Tai factory to commemorate (Ji Nian) of the 2006 tea culture expo in Taipei, Taiwan. The Chang Tai blender reportedly blended this cake from the best of 150 loose pu-erh leaves provided by the factory, and the aim was to reproduce the characteristics of the legendary "Hun Tie" (iron cakes) from the 1950's. While it's difficult to imagine how a blender could know (much less reproduce) how the 1950's cakes tasted and smelled when they were young, there's no question that this is high-quality pu-erh.

It's evident from viewing the exposed cake that it's very well-compressed, which happens to be one of the defining characteristics of "iron" cakes. There's a healthy proportion of buds on the surface, and also plenty of dark, juicy-looking leaves. One of the more difficult things about iron cakes and machine-molded cakes in general is that it's more difficult to break into the cake for brewing without breaking or damaging all of the leaves. The fact that this is a mini cake compounds this difficulty, since it's thinner and smaller than your average bing. Using a small pick meant for tuo chas with care, though, I was able to break the cake into relatively whole and manageable pieces, using an intact specimen for tasting. This pu-erh is so well-made that it's a shame it's only available in mini cake size; I'd love to own large cakes of this tea.

The aroma itself is a complex puzzle, shifting between thick, date-like fruit smells to intoxicating wet flowery notes. There's no smokiness and no off or dirty smells, and the shifting nature of the aroma is a really good sign. I found the elements of the aroma variously popped up in the liquor, which complemented them with a hearty but subdued bitterness, a smooth finish, and a nice thick, viscous mouth feel. This isn't arbor pu-erh, but it's about as good as plantation pu-erh can hope to be. The only real drawback is the mini-cake form, which isn't really necessarily a drawback; the small cakes are extremely affordable, especially for someone who's interested in experimenting with aging pu-erh but doesn't want to break the bank. The unfurled leaves are in pretty nice shape (provided you can get them free without breaking them)--some large examples for full body as well as healthy buds and fledgling leaves for light sweetness. As far as Chang Tai leaves are concerned, they're much better than the average.

As with all of our pu-erhs, we're offering this tea in 1 oz samples as well as in whole cakes, and both are 15% off through the end of November, making this cake an even better deal.

Elliot

2004 Chang Tai "Yi Wu Zheng Shan" 400 gram cake Tasting Notes

2008-11-26T12:00:00.000-08:00

This 400 gram cake is one of the older cakes we offer at Miro, and tasting it soon after tasting 2007 and 2006 cakes makes its slight aging very apparent. Chang Tai used to be a pretty small factory but upgraded to a substantially larger "Manufacturing Group" in 2005. Still, its product rivals and often bests many of the huge, well-known pu-erh factories like Menghai and Xiaguan, especially in the "wild leaves" department. This cake makes no claims about being exclusively old growth, but it does contain a healthy proportion of semi-wild "old plantation" leaves from Yi Wu mountain (hence the name, "Yi Wu Original Peak").

Like the 2006 Chen Guang-Ho Tang cake, this cake is stone-molded. Here, though, it's even more apparent; as you can see in the picture, the edges of the cake are pretty loose, and leaves are already coming off without any effort. Smelling and visually observing the cake, the four years of aging are very apparent to me--more so than the liquor will eventually reveal. I can already smell that "forest floor" camphor and earthy musk that is evidenced so well by well-aged pu-erhs, which means this cake is on the right track for some future delicious aged sheng pu-erh. You can also notice the slight changes that have taken place in the leaves' appearance; they're a bit darker, and many of the buds have changed to a slightly more golden hue.

Taste-wise, this tea reveals its age less. The liquor is a dark gold, though, and its aroma is full of rich, woody, earthy pu-erh character. With a sip from the first infusion, it's apparent that the tea exhibited a slight smokiness when it was newborn, but it's swiftly retreating and is absent from later infusions--good news that this tea won't be one that still tastes like smoke when it's over 10 years old! There is still a formidable bitterness in this tea's finish, but the aftertaste develops sweetness with every breath. There's a lot of debate about which ages better--strong pu-erh or subtle, complex pu-erh--and if you're of the "strong" persuasion, this one is certainly a contender for a good aging choice. I'm of the belief that both types of tea have plenty of potential, though they'll very likely produce aged pu-erhs with very different temperaments. Surely, though, abundance and strength of flavor in a young pu-erh is unlikely to disappear over the years and result in a weak aged pu-erh. Either way, this tea fulfills a couple important criteria for pu-erh aging potential: 1) It's complex enough to be appreciated now, despite its acceptable "young" characteristics, so it will likely be complex as an aged tea. 2) It already shows signs of aging, which means that it should continue on the promising path it's on if properly stored.

The brewed leaves of this tea reveal something about Chang Tai's method that seems to happen with many of their teas--many of the leaves are fragmented or broken, with sometimes tattered edges. This may partially account for the tea's powerful taste, and time may prove that the aged flavor of these cakes will be enhanced by the added strength this imparts. Next up in the tasting note series is another Chang Tai offering.

Elliot

Tasting Notes: Autumn 2006 Chen Guang-He Tang "Yi Wu Yeh Cha" 357 gram cake

2008-11-25T15:45:00.000-08:00

The second pu-erh to be featured in November's celebration of pu-erh tea, this sheng (raw, or uncooked) pu-erh is an excellent tea to contrast against the 2007 Xi-Zhi Hao 8582 cake from the last entry. This is primarily because the 8582 cake is a spring production and this "Yi Wu Yeh Cha" is fall-harvested. Whereas the XZH 8582 is a lively, energetic and potentially fierce tea, this pu-erh is mellow, round and a fair bit more difficult to over-brew.

Chen Guang-Ho Tang is a relatively small pu-erh production group that has been around since the late 90's. It's comparable to Xi-Zhi Hao insofar as they both provide premium, often ancient tree and famous mountain pu-erh, though Xi-Zhi Hao probably has the edge in terms of prestige and reputation since they put out some of the most exclusive and super-premium pu-erh available. This tea comes from one of the most famous mountains in Yunnan, China's pu-erh-producing province--Yiwu or Yi Wu Mountain. As a side note, since famous-mountain pu-erh leaves are in such high demamd, some less scrupulous pu-erh manufacturers will sometimes label their cakes "Yi Wu" or "Lao Ban Zhan" when only a small percentage of the leaves (if any) came from said mountain. One of the better aspects about premium producers like Chen Guang-Ho Tang and Xi-Zhi Hao is that they have excellent street cred when it comes to the accuracy of their tea leaves' origins. Regardless, taste will always be the deciding factor--with even a limited amount of experience, it can be relatively easy to pick out the harshness, lack of complexity, and lower durability of plantation leaves that dominate so-called "famous mountain" cakes. This cake's inner ticket declares that the leaves are a blend of three different Yi Wu regions, so we can expect varied characteristics, but (hopefully) a common denominator of big, healthy-looking leaves and buds and not too much harshness.

Gong fu brewing of this pu-erh reveals a somewhat rare experience in young sheng pu-erh: a tea that's actually enjoyable to drink when it's young. At two years old, this tea hasn't had much time to age. Nevertheless, it's full of dark, dried fruit, woody and mushroomy flavors along with hints of that characteristic earthy character that is present in even the most flowery young shengs. There's no smokiness whatsoever and the bitterness is slight and it blends well with the tea's other characteristics. The body is full with little astringency, though there is room for aging improvement in its smoothness. Compared to the XZH 8582 cake, this autumn production is rounder, mellower and darker, with few of the high and potentially piercing notes of the spring cake. Both are unmistakably young pu-erhs, though, which makes comparing them an excellent and instructive exercise in the difference between spring and autumn pu-erh leaves, which both seem to have very particular strengths.

The spent leaves of this cake seem to confirm their origin--there are few broken or ragged leaves and plenty of complete leaf sets with large, strong-looking veins and thick but not brittle stems. It's also worth noting that this cake is stone-molded, which is different but not necessarily better than the modern process of machine-molding. Stone-molded cakes tend to be more irregularly-shaped than machine-molded ones, and they also tend to be compressed more loosely, which can lead to faster aging (because the inner leaves have more exposed surface area). Overall, tasting these two cakes is an exciting endeavor, especially when contemplating what will happen to the flavors of each as the cakes slowly age.

Elliot

2007 Xi-Zhi Hao 8582 Sheng Pu-erh 400 gram cake

2008-11-19T15:56:00.000-08:00

November is over half over and I've yet to announce the tea of the month to our online audience. We're celebrating pu-erh tea this month. All of the usual benefits apply--we've got informational handouts and samples in the store, and all of our pu-erh stock is 15% off for the month. If you're unfamiliar with pu-erh, you can check out the rather lengthy introducto ry article I compiled in May. A Google or Wikipedia search will also deliver some good results--pu-erh is becoming quite a craze in the West (it's been extremely popular in Asia for at least 10 years though) and there are a lot of enthusiastic bloggers and hobbyists online. In a market saturated by the mediocre, cheaply-made pu-erh that has become commonplace since pu-erh's recent surge in popularity, we're happy to offer several choices that don't have much trouble distinguishing themselves from your average teas! I'll hopefully be able to present several of our pu-erh choices before the month is over, starting with this 2007 Xi-Zhi Hao 8582 sheng (raw pu-erh) cake.

Xi-Zhi Hao (Double Happiness) is a premium pu-erh line produced by San Ho Tang pu-erh factory. The owner, Mr. Chen, began researching the historical pu-erh production methods in the 1990's and began producing his own pu-erh at the end of the decade. Today, Xi-Zhi Hao stands as some of the highest-end (quality-wise and price-wise) pu-erh available on the market. Essentially what makes this type of tea high-end is the leaves--since the late 90's there has been a surge of interest from pu-erh collectors and producers in using "ancient," "wild," "arbor" or "tree" pu-erh leaves (as opposed to plantation leaves, which can vary in quality). These leaves come from either completely wild tea plants or from plants that were once cultivated but have grown wild for decades. Generally the plants are very large (more tree-like than bush-like), and the leaves are sized to match; vigorous, bold and healthy-looking, with bold but complex flavor and high propensity for successful aging. Leaves of this type come from very specific (usually mountainous, like "Yiwu," for example) areas in Yunnan province, China, and there are only so many leaves to go around (hence the high price tag). Manufacturers will often label their tea cakes with these words when they only have a small percentage of the old, famous-mountain leaves, but the Xi-Zhi Hao brand has a good reputation for quality and reliability with their "ancient tree" pu-erhs. In addition to their heralded super-premium pu-erhs, they have also produced some outstanding upper-mid-level pu-erhs. This cake falls into that category--high quality leaves which are mostly from plantations around Menghai county. The title "8582" refers to the classic Menghai Tea Factory blend recipe, which was provided to Xi-Zhi Hao by an ex-Menghai factory master blender. Menghai has been a quality-standard pu-erh brand for decades, and this blend ("85" for 1985, when the recipe was invented, "8" for the "level" or "grade" of leaves used, and "2" meaning Menghai Tea factory) is designed to recapture the pu-erh quality that existed when this recipe was new.

You can see in this picture that the cake is composed of nice-looking whole leaves, and there are plenty of silvery buds visible on the surface, which lets you know that this should be a pretty sweet-tasting pu-erh. Since the cake is very young, there is plenty of contrast between the buds and leaves. This will change in a few years as the buds gain a more golden coloration. The cake is well-compressed; not as tightly as an "iron cake"-styled pu-erh, and not as loosely as a traditionally stone-molded cake. Just opening the wrapper, the aroma floats gracefully out and fills the room.

For tasting, I gently pried off a small chunk (the fewer broken leaves, the mellower and less harsh the tea will brew). 3.8g in a 100ml teapot, with a 20 second rinse to open the leaves up a bit. After that, it was 30-20-30-40-60. Not overly methodical for gong fu brewing, but good enough to catch some of this tea's intricacies. This is a spring-harvested tea, and it tastes that way. It's simply brimming with energy--after a rinse and first infusion, the aroma really dominated our tasting area. Floral, fruity and slightly woody/earthy tones permeate the complex aroma, and depending on when and how deeply you inhale, it can change completely. The liquor is a deep golden color with good clarity. Flavor-wise, this tea has multiple strengths. First is complexity: all of the elements from the aroma are present in the liquor, as is a potent sweetness. Second is hui gan, or "returning aftertaste." The sweet finish pervades long after the tea is gone, which is a very desirable characteristic in a pu-erh. Also notable are a couple absent aspects: smokiness--commonplace among low-end pu-erhs--is virtually zero, which means this pu-erh was processed very carefully, with delicate care during the firing, drying and steaming processes. The other characteristic--bitterness--is somewhat muted and mostly transforms to sweetness in the aftertaste. Bitterness in a young sheng pu-erh is almost universal and is not regarded as a flaw, and it's nice to see that it fits comfortably among this pu-erh's other attributes.

Having tasted some of Xi-Zhi Hao's single-region pu-erhs, I can say that this 8582 recipe cake could be described as less refined, but to me it's also somewhat more interesting--rather than leaves with uniform character, this cake is a blend of different-sized and styled leaves (see the picture below for more evidence of this), which gives it a shifting, active, dynamic, even clamourous(!) complexity that isn't necessarily present in the super-premium cakes. For personal drinking I'd probably use more leaves, but not too much more--this cake can be extremely potent and aggressive if you use too many leaves (partly because it's a spring, plantation cake and partly because it's so young), and I think it tastes best and most complex when it's toned to a more light, floral and ethereal tea like I cupped it today. I'm very excited for this cake's aging potential; the original 8582 Menghai cakes are tasting really good these days, and I can see this cake's complexity becoming really nice as it mellows out a bit. We have this cake available for in-store drinking as well as bulk--1 oz samples or entire 400 gram cakes. With all pu-erh stock 15% off for the month, now is a great time to snag one. Stay tuned for more tasting notes!

Elliot

Challenging the White Tea Preparation Myths

2008-10-22T08:32:00.000-07:00

One of the most common things I hear about white tea is that, since it's made from tender tea buds, it should be brewed at a lower temperature--around 160º to 170º Fahrenheit. Lately, though, I've heard murmurings from a number of sources that white tea is not actually as fragile as some Western sources would have us believe.

To challenge the popular notions about white tea brewing, I decided to try an experiment of my own: I brewed our Silver Needle tea at three different temperatures--170º, 190º, and 200º, each for 4 minutes, and a fourth cup at 200º for 2 minutes, in case the 4 minute cup was too strong.

The results were pretty surprising--none of the cups exhibited any of the bitterness associated with, say, an over-brewed green or oolong tea. At 170º (the cup on the far right) the tea is almost predictably light--silky smooth, with flavor that fills your mouth gradually after several sips. At 190º (second in from the right), the flavor is much more up-front, registering in all parts of the mouth at the very outset of the drinking experience, and lingering much longer. Additionally, the body is significantly fuller and the cup color significantly darker. At 200º, the flavor is similar to the 190º cup, if slightly stronger, and the body is full to the point of astringency--after sipping, I can definitely get the slightest hint of a "too much flavor" bitterness, but it isn't uncomfortable. It turned out that the 2 minute 200º cup was not really necessary--the 4 minute steep was not unpleasant, and 2 minutes was too short.

What surprised me the most was that the three teas were really not that different in flavor or body, despite a 30º temperature variation. Body-wise, the 170º cup produced the most pleasant experience, but the 190º cup wins the flavor prize hands-down. After contemplating why it could be that white tea is much more resilient to very hot water than its green tea counterparts, my hypothesis is that the slight oxidation produced by the tea's extended withering must be the key. That slight chemical change produced by the tea's enzymes likely takes the edge off those "greener" aspects of the tea buds, altering the bitter and tannic elements that come out with really hot water. For gong fu brewing of white tea, I'd definitely recommend using hotter water to extract bold flavor bit by bit, revealing a variety of characteristics from the buds. This experiment also reminded me of one of the most important aspects of tea preparation--experimentation is key, and there are no hard and fast rules when it comes to brewing tea! Some tea vendors pass down brewing recommendations like they're set in stone, but everyone's tastes vary, and a tiny bit of experimentation with temperature and brewing time could produce a tea that you appreciate much more than the "recommended" method.

Elliot

Two White Tea Types

2008-10-13T14:23:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned in the last entry, in the world of Chinese white tea, there are really two primary types of white tea: Bai Hao Yin Zhen and Bai Mu Dan. Since the processing methods (extended withering) are very similar, the main difference between these two teas is which leaves are selected during plucking.

Bai Hao Yin Zhen means "White Hair Silver Needle." The name describes the soft, white down that covers the buds of the tea plant. Many tea drinkers are familiar with Silver Needle tea, which is the classic white tea--it's produced from large, fat tea buds only, which makes it the more expensive of the two white teas. Of course, there are variations in quality between grades of Silver Needle--generally, the larger the buds the better, and the bud should appear green underneath the down as a sign of freshness. Silver Needle has an extremely delicate flavor--like some of our premium Chinese green teas, its flavor will blossom in your mouth a few seconds after sipping, and the aftertaste will continue long after the tea has been swallowed. The flavor is naturally sweet (thanks to the extended withering process), and good Silver Needle tastes to me of fresh hay and honeysuckle--if it's fresh, it also has delicate beany notes. If a Silver Needle tastes smoky, overly nutty, or fishy, it's likely old and has been re-roasted or it had flaws in the initial production. Like most bud-based teas, the best Silver Needle harvests occur in the spring, when the plants put on the most buds.

Bai Mu Dan means "White Peony." Unlike Silver Needle, White Peony is produced from leaf selections that include the bud and the first two leaves. Although the finished leaves tend to be a bit brittle, you can still usually find a few complete leaf sets. The leaves are a pleasure to look at--the leaves are bright green on one side and brown on the other, and the buds, though not as large as those in Silver Needle, are nice and plump. Because fewer buds are used, White Peony is cheaper and often considered an everyday white tea. The inclusion of leaves makes the body quite a bit more robust (and the liquor darker) than the Silver Needles', and the flavor is bolder as well. I think White Peony tastes earthy but sweet, and it's easy to draw a connection between its flavor and Silver Needles'. If it's a nice fresh grade, you'll also notice a nice bean- or pea-like sweetness that lingers especially along the aftertaste.

You may come across a large number of white teas with different names, but they're generally lower grade than these classic teas and less widely-known. We've seen our fair share of "other" white teas at Miro Tea; they generally exhibit some of the flaws I mentioned earlier, and though their names may differ, if you look closely, they're usually of the same appearance as Silver Needle or White Peony, or a combination thereof, which only serves to reinforce the assertion that there are two primary Chinese white tea types!

Elliot

White Tea: A Brief Background

2008-10-10T08:00:00.000-07:00

The goal of this article is to broadly define "White Tea." From a processing perspective, it's easily identified--White tea is produced from either tea buds only or tea buds and the first two leaves, which are withered in a humidity-, temperature-, and airflow-controlled environment for a long period of time (up to three days). In the processing of green tea, oolong tea, and black tea, withering is a step that lasts only a few hours at most. Withering reduces moisture content prior to oxidation or firing (which, in the case of green and oolong tea, prevents oxidation from continuing). For white tea, though, withering is the process by which oxidation is arrested--eventually the low heat and airflow will deactivate the leaves' enzymes. For this reason, white tea is technically considered slightly-oxidized. This slight oxidation makes white tea different than green tea, which is fired as early as possible and considered un-oxidized. White tea is called "white" because of the white down that covers the tender buds of the tea plant.

White tea originated in the late 1800's in China's South-Eastern Fujian province (the same province where Anxi and Wuyi oolongs come from). Although tea producers had been sun-withering tea leaves for hundreds of years, the white teas that are recognizable today were made possible by tea farmers in Fuding County (circled on the enlargable map of Fujian province) who developed a special cultivar (a genetically unique variety of the tea plant propogated using cuttings) with large, plump buds--the most important component of white tea. From the new cultivars the tea producers developed the two primary white tea types that are around today--Bai Hao Yin Zhen and Bai Mu Dan, which will be covered in the next entry.

Today, tea producers in Taiwan, India, Sri Lanka, and even Africa have begun producing their own white teas, developing processing that relies on extended withering. More than for any other tea type, though, the market's taste is for Chinese white teas. That is to say, if a tea drinker is told a tea is "White," they'll generally expect it to taste similarly to a Chinese white like Yin Zhen or Bai Mu Dan. This is rarely the case, though, since the other countries I mentioned have their own specific growing conditions and often use other cultivars to produce their white teas. So, the main challenge facing these other tea producers is produce a white tea with distinct and desirable enough characteristics that tea drinkers will recognize that white tea--like black and green teas--can be "done" successfully (if differently) by a number of different countries. I've tried a number of non-Chinese white teas, including a Darjeeling white and whites from Malawi and Rwanda, and I don't think we're there yet--the teas I've tried aren't going to make anyone forget about China's famous white teas. These tea gardens are always experimenting and honing their craft, though, so I wouldn't be surprised if the day came in the next few years when white teas of singular quality start emerging from multiple countries across the globe.

Elliot

White Tea month is in full swing at Miro Tea

2008-10-08T08:54:00.000-07:00

Even if I didn't have a calendar, I think I'd probably still know that summer is fading into memory and fall is upon us--if only from how chilly my hands get on my morning bike ride to Miro Tea! As we've been trying to do on a monthly basis, the beginning of October marks the beginning of a tea feature; this month it's White Tea, an ideal choice for sipping during the quiet moments of a crisp, sunny fall afternoon (which we'll hopefully get a few of this October!).

I'm excited to feature white tea for a number of reasons--white tea's recent surge in popularity has really catapulted it into the general public's consciousness. From Snapple and other "ready to drink" beverages to vitamin supplements, white tea is being touted for its health benefits, and is often described as "better than green tea." So, with white tea's rising popularity, it's a great opportunity to expose curious people to premium white teas, so they can see the best of what this tea type has to offer. Also, this month will be a great opportunity to clear up some of the misinformation that has come along with white tea's popularity--look for a few short articles regarding caffeine, health benefits, and processing.

As usual, we've got a few features going to celebrate white tea:

15% off white tea by the cup or pot, as well as bulk
We've got a few white teas in our clearance area, including some seldom-seen Darjeeling white teas--not to be missed by both adventurous white tea fans and Darjeeling fanatics
We'll be cupping on request, side by side, Bai Hao Silver Needle and White Peony, the two classic white tea types.
General white tea information (including upcoming articles) will be condensed in take-home handouts available in Miro Tea.

Be on the lookout for the next couple of informational articles, and try a cup of white tea!

Elliot

Nilgiri Tea and Corsley Estate Nilgiri

2008-09-30T15:35:00.000-07:00

The final major tea-producing region of India is Nilgiri. Unlike Assam and Darjeeling teas, which are both grown in the North-Eastern arm of India, Nilgiri tea is grown in the South-Eastern point in the hills of the Nilgiris district of Tamil Nadu province. The history of tea in the Nilgiris district is somewhat less robust in comparison with that of Assam and Darjeeling, but the region is indisputably important to India's tea production and the teas produced there retain a range of recognizably "Nilgiri" flavor characteristics. At least half of all tea grown in Nilgiri is exported, and the vast majority of tea is grown by small farms and sold to separately-owned factories for processing. Nilgiri tea's highland-grown leaves produce dark amber liquor and characteristics that are roughly describable as between those of Assam and Darjeeling.

We carry two Nilgiri blacks at Miro Tea; I chose our Corsley Estate Nilgiri--like both Darjeelings and Assams, each Nilgiri is usually named for the estate of its origin. As you can see in the picture, this tea has the largest, most complete leaves of the three teas featured so far. A larger leaf profile is generally referred to as "Orange Pekoe" (pronounced peck-oh), usually abbreviated OP, or BOP if the leaves are more "Broken." A piece of leaf stem is also visible in the dry leaves--the occasional by-product of machine processing and sorting.

After I added hot water to the leaves, a powerful woody, honey-like aroma emerged from the cup. Tasting the liquor, I found a very comforting blend of honey sweetness (reminiscent very much of honey's distinct flavor, as opposed to the experience of consuming honey) and a mellow, fleeting plum-like overtone. My overall instinct was to contrast this tea with the Satrupa Marangi Assam--this Nilgiri posesses a thinner liquor with a lighter mouth feel, none of the sharp notes of the Assam (much more rounded), and a noticeable drop in complexity. I also noticed that the tea's aftertaste was really present on the breath, but wasn't nearly as lasting as that of the Darjeeling I tasted, disappearing quickly until being renewed by another sip. This is a really pleasing tea to drink, but doesn't really posses the kind of depth that necessitates close attention. These characteristics make Nilgiris great morning and everyday teas, because they're always pleasant and won't be spoiled if you have to concentrate on something else while you're drinking them. Tney also make excellent iced teas--the round, malty sweetness of black tea, without the potential harshness that can be found in Assams makes for perfect iced tea.

Elliot

Darjeeling Black Tea: Makaibari Estate First Flush

2008-09-30T14:00:00.000-07:00

How time flies! Sometimes we get so busy taking care of store business that I have trouble finding time to keep up my promised blog entries before they're overdue! Though they could have been more evenly-spaced throughout the month, today I'll present Darjeeling and Nilgiri Indian Black Teas to finish (just under the wire) our celebration of Indian black teas.

Many people have at least heard the word "Darjeeling," even if they haven't tried Darjeeling's world-famous teas. Darjeelings have been the subject of many mildly specious metaphors, such as "the champagne of teas," or the "connoisseur's black tea." The fact is: tea is not wine, but Darjeeling black tea is an utterly unique tea genre that is certainly worthy of observant appreciation and the international renown it has generated. Like Assam teas, Darjeelings were first cultivated in the mid-1800's by British expatriates. However, the similarities end there: Unlike Assams, Darjeelings are grown in the mountains of West Bengal province, and the tea plants used originated in China. Because of this combination, Darjeelings tend to be much lighter in body and complex in flavor than the lowland-grown Assam teas.

Darjeelings are also unique because of their leaf appearance--rather than a more or less uniformly black coloration, Darjeelings often contain a number of silver and green leaves, due to the "not-quite-full" oxidation that the leaves receive during processing, which surely contributes to their lightness and complexity when brewed. Darjeeling teas are produced by tea gardens known as "estates," and the name of a particular Darjeeling is almost always the name of the estate. Following the estate name is usually an indicator of which "flush" the tea is--that is, when the tea was harvested. Generally, there are three primary harvests--First flush (produced in March at the end of the rains), Second Flush (produced during June), and Autumn Flush (produced--you guessed it--in autumn, after the second rain season). Flavor-wise, the flushes go from lightest, subtlest and most delicate to darker, fuller-bodied, and less delicate as time progresses, and earlier-harvested teas are usually less expensive. Really, though, it's all a matter of taste--I tend to prefer Second Flush Darjeelings, even though they may not get the most attention.

The tea I chose for tasting is our new Makaibari Estate First Flush. The above picture demonstrates well the beautiful, varied appearance of the leaves. I steeped this one for 2.5 minutes using 190º water--I find a lower temperature of water produces a more subtle cup when it comes to Darjeeling, and too long of a steeping time will bring out a biting bitterness. The first sensation I experienced when drinking this tea was warming--I felt heat rush to my mouth and throat as soon as the tea touched my lips. After swallowing, I noticed a slight, pleasant bitterness in the back of my mouth, as well as an astringency that I often find in First Flush Darjeelings. The wet leaves (you can see in the picture that they've retained their varied coloration, unlike the Satrupa Marangi's fully-oxidized golden buds) put off an inviting aroma of sweet leather and blackberries, and the tea's liquor translates these aromas into a gentle, sweet-and-dry berry flavor and a much more subdued showing of that leathery characteristic. It's also important to note that most true Darjeelings (Darjeelings, like most famous tea types are often faked!) share a similar flavor profile, dubbed "muscatel" by Darjeeling fans. The word is borrowed from wine tasting. Although I'm slightly unconvinced that there's a strong connection between wine's flavor profile and Darjeeling teas', I'm absolutely sure that the so-called "muscatel" flavor is a primary draw for Darjeelings inasmuch as it's unique and inviting in its complexity. The final characteristic that strikes me about this tea is its lingering aftertaste, which really didn't occur with the other two Indian blacks I tried.

We carry two First Flush Darjeelings and one each of Second and Autumn Flushes, so if you're in the neighborhood, please stop by and see for yourself what makes these teas so special!

Elliot

Assam Tea & Satrupa Marangi Tasting Notes

2008-09-15T14:57:00.000-07:00

Assam teas (named for the north-eastern Indian state of their origin) are special for a number of reasons. Firstly, Assam is one of only two regions in the world with documented native tea plants (the other, more well-known area is Southern China). Interestingly, the tea plants found growing in Assam are actually an entirely different varietal of the camellia sinensis plant--camellia sinensis assamica, as opposed to the Chinese camellia sinensis sinensis. The Assamese tea plants generally produce large leaves with malty, earthier flavors than the more flowery Chinese variety. The other interesting thing about Assam teas is that they are best grown in the lowlands--unlike Nilgiris and Darjeelings, which are hill- and mountain-grown (not to mention most Chinese and Taiwanese teas, which are also ideally grown at higher elevation). Assam has a lot of floodplain terrain with rich soil that the Assamese tea plants seem to like the best.

In general, Assam teas are strong, robust, malty, and full-bodied. You may not know it, but there's a good chance you're already familiar with Assam tea--it's a staple ingredient in most English Breakfast tea blends. Because of their potent characteristics, Assam teas stand up well to milk and also often benefit from a little sugar.

The Assam I picked to taste is the Satrupa Marangi Estate Assam. We acquired this one fairly recently. One of our most discerning Assam fans recently told me that this tea "perfectly sums up all of the characteristics" he looks for in an Assam. Not bad! As you can sea in the picture above, the tea is mostly composed of dark brown leaves (usually about half a centimeter in length--at most). There are also a number of lighter leaves in the mix--these are leaf buds, and are usually referred to as "tips," when it comes to Indian black teas. Usually, the tippier a tea is, the sweeter it will taste, since the leaf buds are more tender, delicate, and younger.

I brewed 2.5 grams of Satrupa Marangi Assam in a 120 ml competition brewing set for 4 minutes with boiling water. A quick sniff of the wet leaves revealed a richly woody aroma with plenty of strength. As you can see in the photo on the right, the tips, which were obvious in the dry leaf photo have mostly disappeared and the wet leaves are a homogeneous dark brown, thanks to the complete oxidation they underwent during processing. The same woody aroma is present in the liquor, but it's less intense and is also accompanied with notes of caramel. It's also worth noting (especially in comparison with the two other teas I'll be writing about) that the liquor is a very dark amber.

Tasting this tea, the first sensations I felt were in the form of tingling in the top of my mouth and back of my throat. Yes, Assams are unquestionably powerful! After swallowing, the tingling eased off and my mouth filled with a malty, mildly astringent and simultaneously sweet-and-bitter aftertaste. Exhaling a little, I could taste some hints of another flavor, somewhat akin to the woodiness in the aroma--something leathery, or like fresh tobacco. This tea definitely packs a good deal of complexity with its rather large punch. The strength and bitterness may be a little overpowering for some (especially people used to hunting the complexities out of milder and subtler teas), but they do have a great upside--if you add milk or cream and sugar, the tea's character and complexity remain largely intact and are complemented rather than covered up. If you're a fan of milk and sugar in your tea, I can wholeheartedly recommend our Satrupa Marangi Assam as a great candidate for a creamy and delicious cup.

Next up we'll be moving on to the mountains not far from Assam and to some of black tea's most exquisite pleasures, Darjeeling blacks!

Elliot

September is Indian Black Tea Month

2008-09-05T17:44:00.000-07:00

Since Chinese Green Tea month ran long, we're now celebrating Indian Black Teas through September. This means the usual:

15% off all Indian Black Teas--by the cup and pot, as well as bulk!
Many teas will be on clearance. Since we reduced our menu, we have stock of a number of discontinued teas that is on sale for 50% off--two ounces for the price of one! This includes a number of high-quality Assams and Darjeelings.
I'll be sharing a few of our finest Indian black teas via tasting notes on this blog.
Informational handouts will be available in Miro Tea.
Free loose samples will be available in-store for customers to try at home!

A bit of background for those unfamiliar with the specifics of tea in India: Official reports of native assamica tea plants date back to at least the 1500’s, but widespread cultivation and production of tea only began in the 1830’s when the British lost their monopoly on tea trade with China and opportunistic businessmen began the first tea plantations designed to accommodate burgeoning demand for tea in Britain. Tea production expanded over the next two centuries to the point that India at one time surpassed China as the world’s largest tea producer. Today, the three most famous and prolific tea-producing regions in India are Assam, Darjeeling (both of which are located in the northeastern, spindly part of India seen in the map) and Nilgiri, which is located in the mountains of the southeastern portion of India's tip. Many consider Sri Lankan teas (also archaically known as "Ceylon" teas) as Indian, but for Indian black tea month we'll stick to India as commonly understood by international treaties! More will be said about each region (hopefully including some tasting notes, time permitting).

Elliot

Bamboo Shoot Green Tasting Notes

2008-08-20T13:56:00.000-07:00

These are the final tasting notes for our six new premium Chinese green teas. Although this tea is not the highest grade we've begun carrying, nor is it anywhere close to being the most famous or popular, it has some interesting characteristics and acts as an excellent example of some of Chinese green teas' greatest qualities. This Zhejiang province tea is so-named
because the dry leaves resemble young bamboo shoots (although I have spoken with a customer who swore that it tastes just like bamboo--an observation I can't really corroborate). Like our other teas, it's brimming with juicy, fresh spring flavor and is beautiful to behold as it steeps. Why is this tea a great example of some of Chinese green teas' greatest qualities? First off, it's a great value--cheaper than some of the more well-known examples we've been featuring, but still a prime example of the quality that can be found in true spring harvest Chinese greens--something a lot of people in the West haven't actually experienced! Second, it's a reminder that not all great Chinese green teas are famous! Sure, Dragonwell and Bi Luo Chun and the others get a lot of publicity, but the fact is that there are countless premium green teas grown in China, all with special characteristics and all worthy of attention. This makes the world of Chinese green tea one that can be explored almost limitlessly, which is a big part of the fun!

On to the tasting notes. Gong fu brewing of this Chinese green was a real treat--the first infusion yielded a light, almost straw-like sweetness that I felt most at the top of my mouth. The second infusion revealed fuller body and a bright fulfillment of the straw/hay-like notes seen in the first. I also tasted a characteristic fresh legume flavor in the aftertaste, which lingered exceptionally well. The third infusion continued to develop, with an even fuller (almost sticky with juice) body and a darker feeling overall. The fourth came up a bit short, showing that, although it's a great value, a higher grade would probably feature a bit more durability. This tea also fared very well in competition brewing--very little bitterness or harshness was brought out by the hotter, longer brewing parameters, although the tea's flavor--which delicately danced between vegetal and sweetly straw-like in gong fu brewing--came off as a bit less subtle and dignified. What really surprised me about all six of these Chinese greens was their (varying) abilities to still taste good after being abused by hot water and too-long of a steep. It just goes to show that high-grade green tea not only tastes more complex, it's generally more flexible as well.

This Bamboo Shoot green tea was an excellent reminder that the quality of spring-harvest Chinese green tea is not only limited to the 10 Famous Teas, and an intriguing incentive to keep exploring lesser-known greens. In September we'll be featuring Indian Black Teas (we extended the Chinese green tea feature because the new teas arrived late), so look forward to a few posts regarding Indian black teas, including tasting notes for a brand new spring flush Darjeeling from the Makaibari estate.

Elliot

Dong Ting Bi Luo Chun

2008-08-13T16:20:00.000-07:00

It's my distinct pleasure to introduce the second-to-last of our new Chinese green teas--Dong Ting Bi Luo Chun (also transliterated Pi Lo Chun). This tea is one of my very favorite Chinese greens, and it's the tea that incited my interest and eventual passion for the world of tea--one sip and I was hooked! Bi Luo Chun means "Green Snail Spring," and Dong Ting is the mountain and surrounding region in Jiang Su province where it is produced. Among most "China 10 Famous Tea" lists, Dong Ting Bi Luo Chun is second in popularity only to Xi Hu Dragonwell. Like Dragonwell, Bi Luo Chun originated in a specific geographic area but became so popular that producers throughout China (and even Taiwan) now produce teas in the same style and call them Bi Luo Chun. Just like Xi Hu Dragonwell, though, the Bi Luo Chun from Dong Ting has special flavors and characteristics that simply can't be replicated outside the traditional growing area. I've been on the hunt for a Bi Luo Chun that represents the true Dong Ting characteristics for a while now, and hadn't been successful until I came upon this prime, outstanding example. I've had many nice Bi Luo Chuns that resemble the Dong Ting variety in appearance (tightly-curled buds covered in fluffy white down), but when it comes to flavor they usually end up tasting more generic--fresh, slightly fruity, and delicate, but lacking in the completely unique green tea flavor found in Dong Ting Bi Luo Chun. It brings me great pleasure to offer our customers this great Bi Luo Chun; though this tea is extremely famous in China, its popularity is much less in the West, and it's uncommon to find a Bi Luo Chun in the West that actually exhibits the characteristics that have made this tea so famous in China.

Dong Ting Bi Luo Chun is best photographed up-close--enlarge the above picture to really appreciate the tiny, delicate buds that make up this tea and the fine white down that covers them. Plucking for this Ming Qian tea is an incredibly intricate process, and
after meticulous sorting, the leaf profile is a flawless selection of tiny (around half the size of the buds found in Dragonwell!) buds and leaves. During pan-firing, the leaves are hand-rolled repeatedly until they achieve their signature curled, downy appearance. One pound of finished Bi Luo Chun contains over 6,000 buds! The highest-quality Bi Luo Chun has a predominately dark appearance--grades that feature an overwhelmingly white, fluffy appearance generally aren't as good, though they do play upon some consumers' belief that more down equals higher quality.

Tasting this tea was a real pleasure--the flavor is almost completely unlike any other Chinese green tea, and the leaves' transformation after contact with water is pretty dramatic as well. Once they're wet, the leaves spring back to their original bud-leaf form and take on a vibrant green hue. Gong fu brewing is ideal for Dong Ting Bi Luo Chun, because the tender leaves are particularly delicate and can be shocked by very hot water. Some sources suggest dropping the leaves into the water, rather than vice versa. I'm not sure why this is--if forced to guess, I'd say it's because the leaves are rather dense and they usually stay at the bottom of the brewing vessel (while most green teas have a tendency to float); dropping the leaves into the water might make for more even brewing and easier expansion. In my experience, though, it doesn't make much of a difference in flavor.

The first infusion produced an ethereal, medium-bodied cup. The first thing you'll likely notice about Dong Ting Bi Luo Chun is its rich, creamy, slightly fruity flavor. This flavor was elegantly present in the first infusion and tasted invigoratingly fresh. In the second infusion, this characteristic became even fuller, making for a luxuriously rich mouthfeel and hearty polish. The fruity notes became more prominent and the liquor's appearance became very cloudy (another trademark characteristic of Bi Luo Chun) from the down on the buds. The third infusion revealed more change in flavor and the richness took on a slightly woody, soothing characteristic. By the fourth infusion, the leaves' richness tapered and what remained was a smooth, refreshing green flavor with a lingering peach-like aftertaste. It would be reasonable to expect up to five or six good infusions from this tea.

Competition infusion was a bit surprising; hotter water and a longer steeping time didn't make the tea nearly as bitter or astringent as I expected (considering some of my past "mis-brewing" experiences with Bi Luo Chun). Still, though, competition infusion produced a much less delicate or enjoyable liquor, and the the richness that came across in layered stages during gong fu brewing was more of an all-at-once flavor explosion.

Overall, this Dong Ting Bi Luo Chun is a must-try because its flavor profile is completely different from most Chinese greens, which often share very similar general characteristics. It's also a must-try for anyone who has tried other, lower-grade, "High Mountain," or other non-Dong Ting Bi Luo Chuns; it's another experience entirely! This final close-up is a fantastic reminder of what a startling change the leaves go through as they are infused.

Elliot

High Mountain Dragonwell Tasting Notes

2008-08-06T14:31:00.000-07:00

In the introductory Dragonwell post, I neglected to mention anything about its processing. In reality, it's the processing that makes it possible for a non-Xi Hu tea to call itself "Dragonwell." Like most green teas, the best Dragonwell is plucked pre-Qing Ming, and the leaf selection is one bud and two leaves. After a very brief withering, Dragonwell leaves are transported to extremely skilled tea masters who will fire them in woks. This firing includes a brief "kill green" step that kills the leaves' enzymes, preventing them from oxidizing. Further firing is designed to reduce the leaves' moisture content and freeze them into their trademark, flat, needle-like shapes. This is all done by hand--the tea master presses the leaves with his hands (tea masters are usually male), and it takes a lot of experience to know by touch that the temperature of the leaves is hot enough to accomplish the needed process. The masters also practice specific hand movements, gently moving the leaves around to prevent them from overheating at any time (a few seconds' failure to do this can result in the types of flawed Dragonwell that are often commonplace in the West).

The High Mountain Dragonwell we've started carrying is a great, representative example. In the above picture, you can see the leaves' trademark flat, needle shape. You can also see just how narrow they are (look at the ones in the scoop). A whiff of the dry leaves reveals a perfume of nutty, spring-like freshness. As usual, I tried this tea gong fu style and also using longer, hotter competition brewing parameters.

Gong fu brewing yielded tasty results--the first infusion produced a cup that was very light in color, but immediately coated my mouth after sipping. This experience definitely reminded me of our new organic Yellow Mt. Mao Feng--fresh, juicy, and active development through the aftertaste. This tea has a fuller body, however, and lingering beneath that sweetness is an enticing hint of the trademark nutty Dragonwell flavor. This body and nutty aroma/flavor increased in the second and third steepings. As you can see in the picture, as soon as the water hits the leaves, they spring to life--bright emerald and jade green, like they're straight off the bushes. This freshness is key. Astringency didn't become apparent until the third steeping, and only in gentle, non-distracting amounts. By the fourth steeping, the sweetness began to ease out, though longer steeping times could definitely push this Dragonwell to 5 or 6 juicy infusions. More patience than I was expecting! How does this High Mt. Dragonwell differ from the usual Xi Hu variety? With a Xi Hu Dragonwell, I would expect more complexity, probably a stronger exhibition of the chestnut flavor, and more interesting development between infusions. Nonetheless, this High Mt. Dragonwell is a good all-around representation of what Dragonwell is all about, with more than enough complexity to make it an excellent value that can be enjoyed every day.

Competition brewing was an interesting experience--a moderate amount of bitterness came through, and only a little bit of astringency was present. What surprised me is that the hotter temperature and longer steep time brought out a flavor that was almost completely absent in the gong fu session. It could be that this flavor tastes different when brought out bit by bit (in gong fu), or perhaps that it can only be reached by using hotter water. Either way, this is why brewing a tea a few different ways can occasionally be a surprising and illuminating experience. Check out the wet leaves in this final picture--it's almost hard to believe that the complete, obvious bud-and-two-leaf combination is the same from the dry leaves at the top.

Elliot

Xi Hu Dragonwell

2008-08-06T13:29:00.000-07:00

The fourth of our new Chinese greens to be written up is this lovely Dragonwell (long jing). Dragonwell is undisputed as the most famous green tea in China, and it always figures highly in China's "10 Famous Tea" lists. With Dragonwell's fame--which is worldwide at this point--come the usual issues that plague regional teas that gain more and more renown. At this point, many Westerners have heard and tried Dragonwell, but they may still know little of this tea's historical origins or what separates an expensive, premium Dragonwell from a middling one.

Dragonwell gets its name from a specific well in the city of Hangzhou in Zhejiang province. The original Dragonwell tea hails from the West Lake (Xi Hu) region of Hangzhou. The scenic lake is surrounded with foothills and mountains that support the most prized modern Dragonwell gardens, which produce the highest-quality and most expensive Dragonwell that can be found. Over several centuries, Xi Hu Longjing has become so famous that tea producers in Yunnan, Guizhou and Sichuan provinces have begun producing teas in the same style and attempting to pass them off as Xi Hu Dragonwell. Unfortunately, that means that Dragonwell aficionados in the West and elsewhere often have no idea where the tea they're drinking came from, and they may also have never gotten a chance to taste truly high quality Dragonwell. These days, true Xi Hu Dragonwell is often accompanied by government-issued "Anti-Fake" labels designed to prove authenticity. As always, though, there's no substitute for experience and the measured judgment of seasoned taste buds. What does this all mean for you, the average tea drinker?

The best Dragonwell in the world still comes from the 168 square kilometers of protected area in the vicinity of Xi Hu. You can find numerous vendors willing to sell tea with a "Xi Hu" or "West Lake" appellation, but far fewer of them will be willing to provide an anti-fake label or go into great detail about how they managed to provide you with such high quality Dragonwell at a reasonable price. The vendors who provide anti-fake labels and go into the furthest depths describing the origins of the tea are almost always the ones who have nothing to hide. If you are interested in tracking down the real thing, my advice is to try a number of so-called Xi Hu Dragonwells from multiple different vendors who meet the above criteria. By educating your palate, you can learn to base your decisions on sensory experience and taste--the most important criterion! Even if you shell out an arm and a leg for the highest-quality, rarest Xi Hu Dragonwell, if you don't enjoy drinking it and if it tastes like it has flaws, its authenticity means nothing! Once you've tried a few different examples, you'll probably get a good idea of the flavor profile of great Dragonwell--light, active, sweet, with a lingering subtle hint of chestnut-like roundness, and above all, it has to taste fresh! I've had more than a few roasty, dull Dragonwells that were passed off as "West Lake." Today, I consider these experiences "tuition payments" for my Dragonwell education!

In attempting to discover just what Xi Hu Dragonwell really tastes like, I've also discovered something else--not all high-quality Dragonwell necessarily comes from Xi Hu! In reality, it's not really surprising--just like not all high-quality sparkling white wines are produced in the Champagne region of France, there are plenty of amazing Dragonwells produced outside the protected Xi Hu region. I've had a few quite impressive examples, such as "Bai" Long Jing (made from a white tea varietal) and a mouth-watering "Anji" Long Jing, made from the same leaves as Anji Bai Cha, another famous green tea. Neither of these teas was as expensive as Xi Hu Long Jing, but both offered comparable drinking pleasure. Almost as importantly, the vendors selling them made it clear that they weren't Xi Hu varieties!

It's with this general introduction to the frustrating but ultimately delicious phenomenon of Chinese Dragonwell tea that I'd like to introduce our new High Mt. Dragonwell. At this time, we haven't found a good enough supplier of representative, reasonably-priced Xi Hu Dragonwell, but we have managed to do the next best thing--we've sourced a lovely, fresh, delicious, and affordable grade of organic, mountain-grown Dragonwell from South of Hangzhou. This introduction has turned into such a rant that I'm going to call it an introductory article and post the tasting notes for our High Mt. Dragonwell separately. Fortunately, Dragonwell is so famous that you can find a great deal of in-depth info about it on the internet without searching too far, simply by using Wikipedia or searching Google. The more you know, the better you'll be able to find yourself some tea you'll never forget. Consider the forthcoming High Mt. Dragonwell a lengthy step in the right direction!

Elliot

2008 Chinese greens have arrived!

2008-07-30T11:49:00.000-07:00

I'm back after a brief absence due to computer troubles to announce that our entire batch of 2008 Chinese green teas (the ones I've been tasting and reviewing, and the ones we're featuring in-store for July) has arrived! They are available for drinking by the cup and pot in-store, as well as in bulk. If you're not in the Seattle area and are interested in these teas, please feel free to email me or phone the store. We're currently not set up for hassle-free web orders, but we can easily work out a shipment after getting the necessary info. I still owe 3 detailed tasting notes for the remaining teas, so be on the lookout before we kick off Indian black tea month (August)!

Bamboo Shoot Green $2.75 (cup), $3.75 (pot), $7 (1oz), $25 (4oz), $40 (80z), $70 (1lb)

Dong Ting Bi Luo Chun $3.25 (cup), $4.25 (pot), $10.50 (1oz), $37 (4oz), $67 (80z), $100 (1lb)

High Mt. Dragonwell $3.25 (cup), $4.25 (pot), $7.50 (1oz), $27 (4oz), $43 (80z), $75 (1lb)

Liu An Melon Seed $3.25 (cup), $4.25 (pot), $10.50 (1oz), $37 (4oz), $67 (80z), $100 (1lb)

Tai Ping Monkey King $3.25 (cup), $4.25 (pot), $8.50 (1oz), $30 (4oz), $50 (80z), $85 (1lb)

Yellow Mt. Mao Feng $2.75 (cup), $3.75 (pot), $6.50 (1oz), $23 (4oz), $30 (80z), $55 (1lb)

Elliot

Tai Ping Hou Kui - Tasting notes

2008-07-14T16:38:00.000-07:00

One of our new Chinese green teas that I'm the most excited about is an organic Tai Ping Hou Kui--the name means Tai Ping (a county in Anhui province) "Monkey King/Chief," and is pronounced "ty-ping ho kway." Why am I so excited by this green tea? One look at the pictures and you'll get about half the reason; the flavor, of course, is the other half. Tai Ping Monkey King is one of the rarest of the famous green Chinese teas, for a number of reasons. Like many others, the best varieties are sourced from very limited areas--just the small villages in the foothills of Tai Ping county--and are only picked on a specific spring day: the first day of Gu Yu season. Additionally, the process is all (by its very definition) hand-made. As you can see in the pictures below, this is an unusual tea! Similarly to Liu An Gua Pian, Tai Ping Hou Kui is made from uncharacteristically large leaves, though buds are included. During the firing stage of processing, the leaves are briefly pressed against a wok with a hemp cloth. One of the most visually appealing aspects of this tea is the criss-cross weaving pattern that is still visible in the leaves (see the close-up).

Due to its rarity and popularity in China, this tea is often unheard-of in the West, and what little of it reaches us seems to be a shadow of the tea's legend; small, broken, brittle leaves that are temperamental to brew, while descriptions of Tai Ping Hou Kui refer to 15 cm-long leaves with red stems, traditionally bound by cotton string. The truth is, the top grades of Tai Ping Hou Kui sell for around $1000/lb.--at the tea farm! With such limited access and prohibitive prices, it can be hard to find a reliable source for a decent grade that displays the tea's classic characteristics without breaking the bank. The secret is eliminating as many middlemen as possible between China and the local American tea drinker, which is fortunately what we've done with this organic Tai Ping Monkey King. The grade we've sourced has a good leaf appearance in terms of uniformity and intact-ness, and after drinking one cup, you'll realize that this flavor can't be found in any other Chinese green. Perhaps most importantly, the cost is affordable enough to drink this tea every day!

With no further ado, I'll move on to the tasting notes. Using the same parameters as the last two teas, we brewed this Hou Kui gong fu style in a gaiwan, and using a traditional competition cupping set. Gong fu brewing a Tai Ping Hou Kui is always a fun experience--the leaves are huge and spill over the top of the cup, but as soon as the water hits them, it's like brewing spaghetti, or playing with seaweed. The first infusion yielded a delightfully light, floral brew. The liquor is bright green and slightly cloudy. The first time I tasted this tea, I was really happy that the unmistakable flavor was there, and not difficult to perceive. Underlying the flowery notes is a bit of a vegetal sweetness and the main element that constitutes the "unique" Hou Kui flavor--I'm always tempted to describe it as a sweet, pleasant "leathery" note, and I've heard others describe it as reminiscent of tobacco. Perhaps I've not precisely put my finger on it, but combined with the floral and vegetal notes, this darker element makes for a complex and balanced cup. I'll be interested to hear any readers' impressions after tasting this tea. The second infusion revealed an explosion of body, depth, and a reduction of the floral lightness. Third infusion was similar, with an acceptable amount of astringency. The fourth was one of the more interesting infusions--the body lightened up slightly, recapturing some of the ethereal sweetness of the first infusion. Similarly, the fifth infusion retained a light body but the sweetness and flavor began vanishing. Much more complexity, activity and excitement than I was expecting! After infusion, the dark green leaves show their early spring origins with vivid greenness and supple feel.

Competition brewing offered nothing particularly revelatory--only that the tea will make a good cup brewed Western style (small amount of leaves, more water, fewer and longer infusions) and that it'll get bitter if you steep too long and with too hot water (no surprise in green tea land!). In all, I'm even more impressed with this tea now than I was when I first tasted a sample in June. Although I've tasted higher (and much more expensive) grades, for the price, this grade offers this tea's characteristics in a very approachable and non-finicky way. With top-grades, you get larger, more complete leaves and subtle lightness that is best enjoyed with great attention and focus. Here, you won't have to hunt for the flavor, but you also won't be saying to yourself "This just tastes like every other Chinese green I've ever had..." Tai Ping Hou Kui is one of my favorites, and I can't wait to start sharing this tea with our customers the day it arrives!

Elliot

What does "Qing Ming" mean?

2008-07-09T14:25:00.000-07:00

Although you have probably seen Qing Ming (or some variation thereof) appended to the name of one of your favorite Chinese green teas, a lot of people don't know what the phrase actually describes. Qing Ming, pronounced "ching ming," translates as "clear and bright," and it is the name of a traditional Chinese festival. The Qing Ming festival occurs on the first day of the fifth period of the lunar calendar, which is usually April 5th (April 4th on leap years), and is celebrated as a day of remembrance for deceased relatives. Because of this, Qing Ming is often referred to as "Tomb Sweeping Day," or more Christo-centrically as "All Souls' Day." It is a day to grieve for lost relatives by sweeping and weeding graves and tombs as well as leaving offerings. However, Qing Ming isn't quite as depressing as it sounds--it's also an occasion for family gatherings and excursions into nature to contemplate Springtime simultaneously with the passing of loved ones. For a nice article on the significance of Qing Ming, click here.

In Chinese green tea culture, however, Qing Ming has taken on an entirely new meaning: it's the cutoff for the earliest and highest-quality spring green tea harvests! Teas referred to as "Pre-Qing Ming" or the Chinese "Ming Qian" (pronounced "Ming Chien") were harvested before the festival and are the earliest green tea harvests of the year. Although the harvest start date is variable due to weather conditions (it took place as early as February in 2007!), the end of the top-choice pickings is always Qing Ming. Ming Qian teas are always more expensive (sometimes by as much as 4x!), for several different reasons. First, they are almost always superior in quality--the leaves and buds have the benefit of a winter of rest and nutrient-gathering, and they represent the choicest picks that are sweeter, more complex, and less harsh than later pickings. Second, ready tea material can be scarcer in the very early Spring. Later pickings, though they are abundant, tend to be less subtle and delicate since the plants have already given up they best they have for the year.

Ming Qian isn't the only important quality for green tea quality, and not all Ming Qian teas are superb or even necessarily better than later harvests, but it's a really good start--the very best green teas are almost always pre-Qing Ming, and you can't go wrong with the characteristics inherent in early spring tea. Like most aspects of tea culture, there will always be people trying to pass off later-harvested tea as Ming Qian, so it's best to acquaint yourself with the flavor and characteristics of the real thing--in general, there's always a freshness to the flavor, never a roasted or toasty character (often used to improve flavor and moisture content of teas that have sat around for a while), and a visual vibrancy of color that is hard to mistake. The new teas we'll be offering at Miro this July (the ones I've been posting tasting notes for) are all Ming Qian and a great place to start enjoying the quality that Chinese greens have the potential to offer.

Elliot

Tasting Notes: Yellow Mountain Mao Feng

2008-07-08T14:48:00.000-07:00

Here's a preview of another of our new teas--Huang Shan (Yellow Mountain) Mao Feng (Fur Peak). This one is probably even more famous than Liu An Gua Pian, and has an equally long and rich history with processing practices that date from the Qing dynasty. Yellow Mtn. Mao Feng hails from Anhui province and is famous as a tea that is presented by the Chinese government to visiting foreign ambassadors and dignitaries.

The Mao Feng we'll be receiving shortly is another Special grade green, and it's organic! As you can see in the above picture of the dry leaf, Mao Feng has a very large leaf appearance, with buds and leaves looking almost as if they were dried right on the tea bush! Upon closer inspection, though, you can see that in the shaping/firing process, the leaves and buds are twisted slightly, resulting in a branching needle-like appearance that is both voluminous and downy (hence the name "fur peak"). Mao Feng is something of a chimera--since it's such a famous tea, numerous regions in China grow "Mao Fengs" that may or may not be sold under the name "Huang Shan," and their appearances and flavors can vary widely. Like many famous teas, though, a true Yellow Mtn. Mao Feng can be identified by its flavor profile, which is certainly the case with this example. Like the previous tea, we sampled this Mao Feng gong fu style (3.5 grams of tea/120ml water, 170º, starting at 20 seconds and increasing up to about 50 on the 5th infusion) as well as competition style, using hotter water and a long steep time to stress the tea and bring out all the flavors--good and bad.

with that characteristic Huang Shan Mao Feng flavor. The first infusion was extremely light--with some teas, you have to restrict the first infusion for fear of overpowering flavor and bitterness. This Mao Feng seemed like it could have taken even more time--the leaves had just begunGong fu brewing revealed this tea to be a very good example of its namesake--exceedingly light in color, body, and mouth-feel, giving up their flavor, though the liquor was totally delicious. The flavor of any famous Chinese green tea defies categorization, but I can say that the aroma of this Mao Feng is a comfortable, even superb marriage of vegetal notes (like fresh, sweet, delicate snap peas, with a slight green-beany-ness) and a sweet, lingering, delicate floral character that prevents the tea from ever coming across as directly vegetal. Compared to the wet leaf aroma, the liquor was surprisingly similar (especially for a green tea), though somewhat less powerful. Subsequent infusions only improved and developed the trademark flavor--2nd and 3rd steepings brought a strong sweetness, fuller body, and ever-so-slight astringency. By the 4th and 5th infusions, the vegetal notes tapered a bit, leaving the liquor somewhat lighter in the mouth but sweeter than ever.

The competition brewing was especially promising. Most green teas, when stressed in a competition environment, become bitter and overpoweringly bitter. This Mao Feng offered up a somewhat darker liquor that held a low to moderate amount of astringency and a deceptively full body, with no bitterness. In some ways, it was like doing the gong fu brewing on fast forward--all the changing flavors were there, but in one punchy mouthful. For this reason, I'm happy to be able to recommend this tea as a worthwhile gong fu option as well as an excellent tea for a quick, easy mug made with a 2 or 3 minute steeping. The only thing I can't recommend this Mao Feng for is a meal accompaniment--this type of green tea is such a delicate treat that it's best enjoyed on its own and would likely be overwhelmed by most any flavor of food. There are higher and more expensive grades of Mao Feng out there, but this excellent example brings characteristic quality (a reasonably uniform leaf appearance included), freshness, and flavor at a very affordable price. I'm eagerly awaiting our shipment of this Huang Shan Mao Feng. Until then, please enjoy this shot of some spent leaves, which displays the selection of one bud-one leaf and the lovely color of this early spring tea.

Elliot

Tasting Notes: Liu An Melon Seed

2008-07-03T12:55:00.000-07:00

Liu An Melon Seed, or Liu An Gua Pian, has been a famous Chinese tea since the Tang Dynasty--Lu Yu mentioned it in his famous tea classic, the Cha Jing. Since that time, it became an imperial tribute tea during the Ming dynasty and remains one of the highest quality green teas from Anhui province, especially in the county of its origin--Liu An.

Liu An Melon Seed is an atypical premium Chinese green because only full leaves are used to make it--no buds, which are usually a must for top-notch and famous Chinese greens. Because of this, its certainly unique for its flavor, dark, striped appearance, and unique characteristics. We'll soon be receiving a Special grade Liu An Melon Seed, and my tasting notes follow.

We cupped this tea along side a much more expensive, award winning Top grade from the same producer, and it performed remarkably well. Using two different brewing parameters--competition and gong fu--gave a good impression of this tea's lovely, unique characteristics and overall potential. Brewed gong fu style (3.5 grams of leaf) in a gaiwan at 170º, the first (20 sec) infusion was really lovely--as the leaves started to open up, the flavor was a combination of light, ethereal floral notes and Liu An Gua Pian's trademark nuttiness, which tends to be slightly fuller than the chestnut notes many Dragonwell drinkers are used to. There's an excellent balance between the floral/nutty flavor that shows this as a well-made Melon Seed--not too nutty or dark, as is often the case--and an approachable, rounded sweetness that will make this a favorite green tea for drinkers who don't like overly-vegetal Chinese greens.

In the second and third infusions, the liquor darkened a bit, became fuller-bodied, and the tea's potent sweet aftertaste was released in delicious full force! By the third infusion, the leaves gave up a noticeable but comfortable astringent mouthfeel. Not too drying, and totally expected--a bit of astringency is part of the territory when you brew Chinese greens multiple times, as long as the tea's flavor holds steady and there's no bitterness, which was the case here! This Melon Seed went up to five infusions (really good for green tea which, by virtue of its processing, doesn't last as long as oolong or pu-erh) with solid flavor, and perhaps a bit of a diminishing showing on the floral side. Once the astringency showed itself in the third infusion, it actually didn't increase at all in later infusions, which is a big bonus. As you can see in the picture, after a round of infusions, the big leaves expand to fill the gaiwan.

Competition style--consisting of one long steeping (6 minutes) with very hot water--yielded pretty good results. This is always a dicey way to cup green tea, since hot water and extended steeping makes for bitter green tea, but the idea is that stressing the tea shows all of its characteristics (good and bad) at once. The competition brew gave a dark liquor, bitterness, and a relatively low amount of astringency. After swallowing, though, the bitterness gave way to undertones of the sweetness that runs deeply in these leaves. Most importantly, there weren't any bad or off flavors (I've had a few swampy Liu An Melon Seeds before, in all honesty). Compared to the Top grade, this Special performed very well--the higher grade was slightly subtler, lighter in the mouth, and had a more uniform leaf appearance with fewer broken leaves. With the price difference, which is considerable, the Special grade is a much better value with comparable quality. As you can see in this last picture, Liu An Melon Seed leaves are big--much like oolong leaves. This tea will be available at Miro Tea for cups and bulk purchase within the next two weeks (I'll be sure to post when they arrive!). If you're reading the blog from outside Seattle and are interested in our teas, I apologize that we don't have a fully up-and-running web sales website yet, but if you're interested in the teas or anything else mentioned on this blog, please let me know via comments, email (mirotea@gmail.com) or call the Miro store (206-782-6832), and we'll be happy to work out a shipment for you. Looking forward to sharing our next Chinese green tasting notes!

Elliot

Miro Tea celebrates Chinese Green Tea this July

2008-07-02T15:26:00.000-07:00

Top to Bottom, Organic Yellow Mt. Mao Feng, Organic Taiping Monkey King, Liu An Melon Seed, 3 fresh 2008 teas featured this month at Miro.

Now that June's over, we get to bid Rooibos month a tearful farewell at Miro Tea and welcome in July--Chinese Green Tea Month! Much like June's rooibos events and specials, we'll be showcasing our Chinese green tea selection all July. The freshest and tastiest spring harvest green teas are en route to our store from China, and we're excited to start sharing them with you, our customers! We also have a few special additions to our program this month!

All Chinese green teas (including bulk) will be discounted 15%!
Informational handouts will be available in-store that fill in some important and general information about China's illustrious green tea and its history.
This blog will feature more in-depth posts about Chinese green tea, including detailed tasting notes for our premium new teas.
Our store clearance area will feature some seriously great deals--Chinese Green and Yellow teas will be available at 50% off--2 oz for the price of 1!
Finally, and most excitingly, July is the first month that we'll be conducting in-store tea workshops! I'll post dates, times and other relevant information when it's all confirmed, but as for now I can say that we'll be conducting regular Tea 101 introductory classes, as well as guided tastings on our new premium Chinese greens--it'll be a great way to explore a large number of teas in small amounts with guidance from yours truly.

Chinese green tea is one of my very favorite tea types, and I'm really excited to start sharing the outstanding quality, diverse flavors, and all-around experience that they offer. Check back soon for more updates!

Elliot

Rooibos: Some health information

2008-06-16T14:34:00.000-07:00

Until now, my entries about rooibos have focused on the history, processing and especially on the delicious flavor of this unique bush. Today, I'd like to focus (in the most readable and accessible way possible) on the chemical composition and potential health benefits of rooibos.

Composition
Many people are aware that rooibos is naturally caffeine-free, but it's somewhat less-known that the plant has a low tannin content and is full of polyphenols, minerals and flavonoids. In addition to containing the flavonoids rutin, orientin, iso-orientin, vitexin, iso-vitexin, luteolin, qurcetin, chrysoeriol, and nothofagin, rooibos contains a flavonoid--aspalathin--that is found nowhere else in nature. Rooibos also contains the minerals iron, potassium, calcium, copper, zinc, magnesium, fluoride, and manganese.

It's pretty easy to toss off a list of minerals and impressive-sounding flavonoids, but this can be confusing for non-scientists (which describes most of us!) and, by itself, this list doesn't really tell us anything concrete about the health benefits of rooibos. For years and years, rooibos drinkers have listed numerous health benefits, reporting that it slows aging, aids digestion, alleviates nausea, heartburn, ulcers and constipation, promotes bone and teeth strength, and is a mild relaxant good for drinking before bed. In the scientific and medical worlds, these types of reports are called "anecdotal evidence," meaning that they may have merit, but are in no way scientifically-supported or produced. This is the dilemma scientists in South Africa were facing in the 1980's, and a number of them resolved to close the gap and subject rooibos to scientific study, which began in 1990.

Scientific Studies: Animals
I recently had the privilege of listening to a presentation by Jeanine Marnewick, a South African scientist who has spearheaded the push for more scientific study of rooibos and its health benefits. I'd rather not get unnecessarily over-scientific about the results of the studies, so instead I'll try to sum up the important points of the results.

Some of the first studies were conducted using rats. In one study, the scientists cut the hair from the rats' backs, applied a rooibos solution topically to the rats' skin, then applied a skin cancer initiator twice weekly for 20 weeks. Compared to the control group of rats that didn't have the rooibos solution applied, the rooibos rats had dramatically-reduced instances of skin tumor development, including some rats with cancer-free skin and some with much more mild symptoms, such as decreased tumor size. A similar study showed that traditional rooibos arrested the growth of pre-cancerous lesions in rats' livers, and green rooibos actually reduced the total number of pre-cancerous lesions, and in an esophageal cancer study, green rooibos significantly reduced the number and size of papillomas in the esophagi of the rats.

Two things must be noted when considering these studies. The first is that the objects of study are rats! Although the anti-cancer effects of rooibos in relationship to rats is exciting and promising, we have to remember that rats and humans are very different animals, and results of rat studies do not guarantee similar results with humans. The second is that, in the scientific community, before a health claim can become widely-accepted, that claim must be supported by a large body of evidence that has been approved by other scientists who work in the same field. A single study's results are certainly not set in stone--another study could produce completely opposite results--and only after numerous studies produce similar results can people like me, an employee of the tea industry, begin confidently saying things like "Rooibos will prevent cancer." Instead, it's important to be honest about the cutting-edge information about rooibos health benefits, provide customers with the facts we have so far in proper context, and eagerly await more studies and more conclusive information.

Human Studies
Encouraged by the favorable animal studies involving rooibos, Marnewick and her associates recently (2007!) pushed ahead and began the first ever rooibos human health study. Since previous studies showed rooibos to have high antioxidant capabilities, Marnewick et al deduced that it would aid in the prevention of heart disease, which is often the result of oxidative stress--an imbalance between oxidants and antioxidants that can damage lipids, proteins, and DNA.

41 participants completed the study--26 females and 15 males--and all of them had at least one or more risk factors for developing heart problems within 10 years. The participants drank 6 cups of rooibos per day for 6 weeks and provided the scientists with blood and urine samples for study. The incomplete data analysis process for this study is very detailed, complicated, and lengthy, and results are only in an extremely preliminary stage. However, Marnewick has provisionally stated that rooibos has no apparent detrimental effects on the health of study participants and that it may prove to decrease oxidative damage to blood lipids.

At first glance, these results may not seem very impressive, but with a little perspective, they're pretty exciting. If, when all of the lab analysis is completed, the provisional conclusions are verified, then the likelihood that more and more rooibos human health studies will be conducted is very good. With an increased body of results and evidence relating to rooibos health benefits, we can more confidently confirm or deny the anecdotal evidence that has been floating around for quite a while. Most excitingly, we get to witness the scientific study of rooibos health benefits in its nascent stages. This first study is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what we can learn about rooibos, and hopefully it is the first of many (including ones with larger participant bases and stronger control measures) that we can reference when discussing rooibos as a healthy beverage option. For now, we can mainly refer to this information in a tentative way, making sure to note that the study of rooibos health benefits are in very beginning stages. At the very least, though, these early studies are pointing in a promising and exciting direction.

Since the final results and analyses are not completed, this study is not up for online access at this point. If you google Jeanine Marnewick, though, you'll get a lot of results relating to past studies about rooibos (including the rat studies mentioned above) as well as other infused beverages. I hope this info was helpful, understandable, and not too complicated. As usual, I'm happy to field any questions (though scientific health studies aren't really my specialty!).

This post wraps up the festivities for Rooibos Month at Miro Tea, though our specials and promotions will last until the beginning of July--Chinese Green Tea month! Stay tuned for some exciting happenings involving Chinese green tea, including detailed fresh 2008 tea tasting notes, tasting events, and more specials and promotions!

Elliot

Anxi Oolongs

2008-06-11T17:54:00.000-07:00

It's time to take a break from the rooibos festivities for a quick return to a "pure" tea topic: part two of the four-part oolong series that started with an introductory oolong article and a look at the famous Wuyi oolongs. This time, we'll be touching on oolong teas from Anxi county, and the surrounding areas of Southern Fujian province. Like all of the other famous oolong genres I've discussed, Anxi's teas are famous both for the cultivars that produce the leaves and for the traditional processing techniques used to produce the teas' signature shapes and characteristics. In general, Anxi oolongs are world-famous for their floral, orchid-like aromas and tightly-rolled appearance.

As I mentioned in the introductory article, the oxidation and roasting processes are key in distinguishing most oolong genres, and Anxi oolongs are no different. They are typified by relatively low oxidation (to preserve the delicate, flowery aroma), and roasting can cover a wide range. Really, though, the most recognizable aspect of Anxi oolong processing is the rolling--Anxi is primarily famous for its semi-pellet rolled oolongs. Although a quick look at dry Anxi oolong (Right) provokes a response of "That looks to me like a complete pellet," the accurate terminology used in the tea business is "semi-pellet." The process for achieving this leaf appearance is very laborious--the withered, bruised, and fired leaves are placed in a cloth bag and rolled by hand or machine, removed, and dried with very low heat. This process is repeated numerous times (usually at least three times, but often many more) until the tea master is satisfied with the result and the leaves are tightly rolled into tiny balls.

The pictures provided in this article are of our "Monkey-Picked" Tieguanyin. Tieguanyin (AKA Ti Kuan Yin or many similar transliteration variations), is surely the most famous Anxi oolong--it's name means "Iron Goddess of Mercy," which refers to a famous bodhisattva, who is a goddess of compassion and is cognate with Avalokitesvara of the Tibetan Buddhist school and finds her roots much earlier (a male version of Guanyin was said to guard the Western border of China and was the last person to see Lao Tzu on his final journey to the west and immortality--according to legend, Lao Tzu orally recited the Tao Te Ching to Guanyin before disappearing into the unknown Western lands). Other famous cultivars/teas from Anxi and Southern Fujian include Huang Jin Gui (Jade oolong), Mao Xie (Hairy Crab), and Fo Shou (Buddha's Hand or Buddha Palm). Although these oolongs are all semi-pellet shaped, they often vary significantly in roasting--it's possible to have a very green Tieguanyin or a heavily-roasted one. Neither is necessarily better than the other, although greener, light-roast Tieguanyins are probably more typical of the genre. Lighter-roasted Anxi oolong is more fragrant and floral in character but can sometimes be slightly harsh on the stomach, while heavier-roasted teas tend to be darker, mellower, and even a bit fruity.

"Monkey-Picked" refers to those distant days when the highest-quality wild tea trees were only reachable by monkeys and people had to taunt the monkeys, who would then throw branches down in anger (no joke, it's in the Cha Jing!). Nowadays the moniker usually denotes high quality. Anxi oolongs are harvested around four times per year: spring, mid-summer,
late summer and autumn/winter. Spring is always the most expensive and usually the highest-quality, although quality teas are also produced in summer and autumn harvests--if you find a sample of good late summer or autumn Tieguanyin, there's no reason to shun it just because it didn't come from the spring, and you'll likely save quite a bit of money! As you can see in the second picture, this Tieguanyin is machine-harvested, which is typical of most but the priciest and rarest Anxi teas. After infusion, the leaves unfurl to large, whole specimens with only the slightest hint of color difference at the bruised edges. The flavor of this Tieguanyin is strongly sweet and floral, with an orchid-like aroma, which is a good representation of what the genre has to offer.

Tieguanyin is one of the most famous oolongs in the world, so with that fame comes occasional (deliberate) misinformation and wide variation in quality--I recommend trying a number of different Tieguanyins and other Anxi oolongs to get a good idea of what the genre has to offer, keeping in mind that quality can span a wide range and a perfect example may require some research. At Miro we ofter a few Tieguanyins that are quality representations at affordable prices. Stay tuned for Feng Huang Dancong oolongs and Taiwanese oolongs (which share a number of similarities with Anxi oolongs!). Questions and comments are encouraged!

Elliot

Meet Ernie

2008-06-11T17:32:00.000-07:00

Many people are well-acquainted with that most classic of summer beverages--the Arnold Palmer. Named after golf legend Arnold Palmer, it's a textbook example of what happens when you combine two tasty summer beverages (iced tea and lemonade); pure, unadulterated
deliciousness. At Miro Tea, we call the Arnold Palmer the "Arnie," and in celebration of Rooibos Month, we've put a new spin on this classic thirst-quencher: the "Ernie!"

This mouth-watering iced tea fusion combines Rooibos--the South African red bush--with lemonade and just a touch of honey water for an added boost. It's extra thirst-quenching because rooibos is naturally caffeine-free, and it's on sale at a special promotional price of $2.75 for the month of June. Best yet, it's named after another famous golfer--Ernie Els--who hails from the same country as rooibos! It was meant to be...

Elliot

Rooibos Processing

2008-06-09T14:20:00.000-07:00

Even avid rooibos drinkers may not know that the bushes' needle-like leaves actually aren't the same color as the finished product that we drink. In reality, the plant looks like your average bush (pictured R). Really, it's the processing that results in the deep redness of traditional rooibos.

Rooibos bushes are generally harvested during the African summer, between January through March, during which the bushes are cut to a height of approximately one foot and the needle-like leaves are processed one of two ways: If the leaves and stems of the bush are dried directly after being cut and crushed, the product is green rooibos (pictured below), which is a light tan color and has a mild “green” flavor, slightly reminiscent of green tea. Perhaps due to the health claims surrounding green tea (especially versus black tea), there are many unsupported claims that green rooibos possesses more antioxidants and health benefits than traditional rooibos.
If the crushed and cut leaves and stems are bruised, heaped and exposed to oxygen before being dried, they will oxidize and take on the red color and signature aroma of traditional rooibos. Historically, the indigenous Khoisan people of South Africa accomplished this process by pounding the rooibos leaves with wooden mallets. These days, the crushing, cutting and bruising is performed by machines. Although some sources refer to the oxidation process as “fermentation,” the term is technically incorrect when used to describe rooibos since enzymes specific to rooibos bring about the process when exposed to oxygen. After drying, the leaves are sorted and graded according to length, color, flavor and aroma, and steam pasteurized before domestic consumption or export. The highest grade of rooibos is referred to as “supergrade;" other leaf styles are marketed as well, such as "long leaf" variety.

At Miro Tea, we offer both traditional and green rooibos in unblended as well as blended, scented and flavored varieties, so if you're after antioxidants, you can have them all!

Elliot

June is Rooibos month at Miro Tea!

2008-06-07T18:17:00.000-07:00

This June at Miro Tea, we're celebrating Rooibos, the South African red bush. Although it's not a true "tea" (rooibos comes from the Aspalathus linearis plant, not the Camellia sinensis), this special bush produces delicious, world-famous beverage when infused in hot water. To celebrate rooibos month, we at Miro Tea have a few events planned:

All rooibos beverages and loose leaf bulk purchases get a 15% discount!
We're offering free samples of loose rooibos for customers to try at home!
We'll be serving "The Ernie," a special iced rooibos beverage (to be introduced next entry), all month!
Informational rooibos handouts are available at the store, and I'll be posting informational articles about rooibos' processing and health benefits as well.

If you've never tried rooibos, you've been missing out on quite a treat. June is the perfect month to enjoy this naturally caffeine-free, healthy beverage--it's delicious both hot and iced.

If you haven't already, check out this earlier post about the origin of rooibos as a cultivated crop.

More to come...

Elliot

Wuyi Oolongs

2008-05-20T11:01:00.000-07:00

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"

2008-05-19T15:07:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-13T11:44:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-12T13:58:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-07T19:34:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-06T16:23:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-06T10:31:00.000-07:00

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!

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.
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.
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.
Heat: High temperature can speed up the chemical processes that age tea.
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

The many faces of green tea

2008-04-30T14:11:00.001-07:00

Many people I speak with about green tea seem not to like it very much: "I don't like green tea--it's too bitter, too harsh." Hopefully this entry will dispel some of the misunderstandings and provide some basic but important info about green tea. Green tea first awakened my interest to explore the world of tea, and to this day still one of my top favorite tea types--there's really nothing like the fresh sweetness of a recently-harvested spring green.

Like all true teas, green tea comes from the Camellia sinensis plant. Green tea originated in China, but has also become increasingly popular (almost to the point of exclusivity) in Japan, and it is also grown in other major tea-producing areas like India, Sri Lanka, and South America, although the level of craftsmanship is often greatly reduced. What makes green tea differ from oolong, black, white, pu-erh, etc., is the method by which it's processed. In general, green tea is plucked then withered, steamed, and/or fired to stop the oxidization/fermentation process that would result in oolong or black tea. The different temperatures and processes the tea goes through when it's being fired or steamed, in conjunction with the tea plant varietal and the profile of the leaves selected, largely determine the flavor and character of the tea.

For Chinese green tea, the earlier the tea leaves are harvested (from as early as February through the beginning of April, depending on weather conditions), the higher-quality and more expensive they are; these teas usually consist primarily of the buds and maybe a few of the first leaves. Of course, there are exceptions to these rules--two of the most famous green teas in China--Taiping Hou Kui and Liu An Gua Pian--are produced using larger, whole leaves and no buds. In Japan, the harvesting situation is similar, with the highest prices attributed to earlier harvests. A big difference, though, is that the highest-quality Japanese teas are shade grown, and generally don't have whole-leaf appearance after processing.

To illustrate the many faces green tea can take on based on its processing and leaf profile, I've assembled several examples (click for a larger picture):

From left to right, Huang Shan Mao Feng (Yellow Mt. Fur Peak), Xin Yang Mao Jian (Xin Yang Fur Tip), Long Jing (Dragon Well), Gunpowder, Super Monkey, Gyokuro Supreme (Japanese), and Matcha (also Japanese). The porcelain cup is a Chinese tea brewing utensil called a gaiwan--more on that in a later blog entry.

For the Huang Shan Mao Feng, you can clearly see the buds of the tea plant--this tea's processing more or less retains the original appearance of the tea bud. The Xin Yang Mao Jian and the Long Jing are also both based on the tea plant's buds, but differing processing methods render the buds furry and flat, respectively. For Gunpowder, mature leaves are rolled tightly into balls--the dark, glossy surface indicates that the tea is still very fresh and still contains a great deal of the juices that make its flavor strong. The white, downy hairs on the Super Monkey are present on all tea buds--they're a good indication that the tea was harvested early. The Japanese Gyokuro is the highest quality green tea in Japan--its leaves are small, thin and very dark green from the shade-grown conditions. Matcha is a powdered Japanese tea, produced from stone-ground gyokuro and whisked to a froth for drinking. These are just a few examples--especially with Chinese green tea, the finished leaves can take on numerous shapes, sizes and textures.

To return to the original impetus for this posting (why people say they don't like green tea), it's important to remember that green tea needs to be brewed correctly to maximize its quality characteristics. Black tea and oolong drinkers are used to pouring boiling water on their tea leaves and steeping them for 4 or 5 minutes. These brewing parameters won't produce a very good cup of green tea--the tender, fresh leaves need a lower temperature (about 170º for Chinese greens and even less--around 160º for Japanese greens), and shorter steeping times will yield a much more enjoyable flavor--1-2 minutes for the first infusion of a Chinese green tea, and closer to 1 minute for Japanese teas. The bad characteristics that people sometimes associate with green tea--bitterness, astringency (that "mouth-drying" effect), and overly-strong flavor--can be avoided by gentler brewing. It's worthwhile to experiment with your brewing temperature and time to find the flavor that best suits your tastes--great green tea flavor ranges from vegetal (pea-like, bean-like, or asparagus-like, for example) to fruity to nutty to grassy (especially Japanese green tea). Often, there is as much variety to be found within the green tea genre as there is between entire tea genres, so have fun exploring!

Elliot

Welcome!

2008-04-29T11:54:00.000-07:00

Welcome!

This is the very first post of Miro Tea's informational tea blog. For those reading this blog who haven't visited our tea bar, we're located in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle, WA. Our mission is to reinvent the way people experience tea, which can be a challenge in Coffeetown, USA! We aim to combine respect for tea traditions from around the world with a modern, urban spin--you won't find stuffy, tea cozy tea service or doilies here, but you will find a vast array of different high-quality teas from around the world (over 250!), and a staff that is enthusiastic and eager to help you explore and learn more about the beautiful, ancient simplicity and potential of the world's most popular beverage (second to water, that is).

As Miro's Tea Specialist, I've been studying tea for long enough to learn that there's always something new, more advanced, and more mind-blowing to learn about tea--no matter how much you think you've learned! It's with the attitude of a constant student that I intend to share as much information about tea as possible--from brewing and tea fact basics for readers who are new to the exciting world of tea to some more advanced topics for tea fanatics who are interested in refining their knowledge and tea experience from the bottomless well of Asian tea culture and history.

The most important thing to remember about tea is that there's no single right way to do it; every tea culture has different ways to get the most flavor out of premium tea leaves, and the best way to learn about tea is by personal experience. By trying new teas and new tea brewing methods, you can find the solution that works best for you and suits your personal tastes. I'll do my best to provide clear, accurate information, but please keep in mind that I'm constantly learning new things about tea as well! There is a wealth of information (and misinformation) about tea, and I try to draw my tea knowledge from reliable sources and personal experience. Feel free to ask specific questions regarding tea and I'll tailor my blog posts to your informational desires. I'm always on the lookout for more info myself, so if you've got 2 cents to chip in, feel free to comment on a blog entry!

Please stay tuned for forthcoming blog entries; I hope you find them stimulating and enlightening!

Elliot