miro tea

17-Year-Old Gong Ting Pu-erh

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!

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).

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.

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"

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

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

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!

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.

Oriental Beauty

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.

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.

Oxidized Buddha Hand Oolong

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.

China Vintage Special Black Tea

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.

More on Da Hong Pao

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

"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.

A Change of Seasons (Wuyi Oolongs Return!)

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

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.

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

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.

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

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

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