Yunnan Red - curated tea #3

A mix of old and new porcelain

In the spring of 2012, I had my first sip of this powerful red tea from Yunnan on a cold drizzly night over dinner with friends. The weather was perfect for roasted or fully oxidised teas with strong Qi. This Yunnan Red tea was light, pure and refreshing, going down very well as all good teas should. The most surprising bit came few minutes into sipping my tea when I decided to stretch my neck discretly and with almost no effort, I could feel tension fading away and in its place a warm surge of Qi quickly moving upwards through my neck. I was slightly taken aback of course because I've only known Qi to be something mystical and probably a thing of the martial arts. In my case, it was recognised as Cha Qi, a form of good energy that radiates from your stomach bringing about overall warmth and comfort.

Of young buds and leaves from a Jinxuan oolong

The dry scent of this tea is 'friendly' without any artificial notes that could well irritate your senses. Being a spring tea, it boasts of refined yet subtle scents characteristic to this season of the year. My choice of brewing vessels are either a dedicated cinnabar clay teapot (aka Zhuni) or a thermos flask on the go. With a claypot, the leaves are allowed to brew at higher temperatures and shorter times. The porous structure of the clay further refines/ filters the tea. It is the ideal way to spend time with this tea, admiring its colour and fragrance.

These dainty yet practical Florentine espresso cups remind us of the aristocratic way of life and their tea drinking culture which is inextricably linked to red tea and perhaps sugar and milk ;-) The depth of these cups allows for a larger tea volume but its narrow opening helps reduce heat loss from the surface.

Supple leaves with greenish undertones

Seeing the spent leaves, I was reminded of the same jagged edges found in my greener unroasted high mountain oolongs. Being baby leaves, these are of course much smaller. A hint of green beneath the overall reddish oxidised appearance is perhaps what accounts for the surprisingly refreshing twist that this red tea has to offer. Just like how I like my steak medium-well so it retains some of the meat's juiciness/rareness on the inside to make up for the loss of moisture on the outside.

Learning is two-way

Mid autumn is a time of gathering with friends and families. This year, I shared my mooncake stash with tea newbies over some lively exchanges about each tea and their effects on our five senses. There was also some serious note-taking from my very enthusiastic friends.

Starting off with a fragrant Mingjian Four Seasons light oolong tea from Taiwan, the fruity scents from under the gaiwan's lid quickly gained popularity and it was delicious. Fresh, fruity and easy drinking.

Red tea and cheesecake bites

Next comes a Wacuo roasted oolong and white lotus paste mooncake pairing. We primed our mouth by taking one sip of this tea first, then bit off some of white lotus paste together with its pastry skin. Take one more sip of the same tea and this lotus paste slips down our throats like silk.

My rather gifted guest remarked that when drunk on its own, this roasted oolong tea smells like moist wood with a hint of bitterness that transforms quickly into a lingering sweet taste. Hearing this in itself came as a surprise for me because crossing paths with the right people who did not know they could like tea so much and in the process share about their personal experiences so openly with one another adds a rewarding dimension to the quality of our discussions.

 DH - Pekoe (or white fur) up-close.

Moving on to a red tea that is most familiar to me  an my readers by now, my Yunnan Dian Hong Cha. Out of fairness (as I have brewed all my teas in a porcelain vessel so far), I decided to also use the same gaiwan for this red tea (usually it's a Zhuni pot that I use). In a porcelain gaiwan, the tea tasted much lighter, but still rounded because porcelain does not distribute heat as well as clay. Nevertheless, the scents from this tea quickly reached our noses and comments like wild honey and dried fruit scents were scribbled down.

Cha Qi from a Lapsang Souchong tea

Conversations flowed from tea to all and sundry and back to tea again. This time I felt an obvious warmth on my cheeks despite an opened window with the chilli autumn rain outside. The Cha Qi of this Dian Hong Cha and all good teas is most felt in colder months because such teas boost our blood circulation so our bodies feel a steady buildup of warmth that counters the cold in our external environment.

If you haven't experienced Cha Qi or are unsure if it is indeed Cha Qi after drinking some teas, a few parallels can be drawn here to the sensation of warmth felt at your fingertips (at its lightest), or whole hand (at its strongest) not long after sipping good wine and/or tea, or that of gushed cheeks when you met the love of your life ;-)

Our trusted senses

Recall that moment when you seemed to have had a piping hot cup of tea but the warm fuzzy sensation quickly fades into an unexplained chill in your system? Why do regular tea drinkers exchange their gaiwans for yixing teapots during colder months of the year to make this transition from light green teas to roasted and highly oxidised teas? Is it really a case of equating the likes of roasted oolongs and red (black) teas to teas that heat us up most efficiently and assigning a cooling effect to the greener and lighter teas in the spectrum?

As part of surveying the tea market, I once brought an Oriental Beauty sample to tea class with the impression that this highly oxidised summer oolong will certainly heat us up nicely when Taipei turns cold and rainy. Quite the contrary. Instead of the expected cha qi that greatly improves one's blood circulation, one of the immediate effects after drinking this tea was a developing frostiness felt most prominently at the fingertips. The tea I brought was a case of poor quality tea leaves that were later processed into an oriental beauty. Needless to say, we certainly did not move on to the 2nd infusion despite the rather pleasant perfumish aftertaste. This tea was also sold as a rather high grade tea with a subtantial price tag to match. An insightful lesson learnt and chances are, there is still a fair share of such teas on the market.

With a good hearty brew of delicious red tea, I can feel the cha qi in my fingertips that turn slightly pink and the tension in my neck muscles ebbing away.  What are your experiences like and which teas do you rate most favourably in your book?   

Misunderstood pu'er tea

10 year old golden pu'er tea from Yunnan

I used to loathe pu'er, finding it almost disgusting to down. My first impression? Muddy and smelly. Good quality pu'er, however, has a deep, rich and complex flavour that I consider to be earthy with a perfumed aftertaste. In some raw pu'ers, I tend to pick up rosy notes from time to time, knowing very well that there were no additives and this is more likely the result of the post-fermentation process. Nature certainly has its own way of tantalising our senses.

Gradually, I started drinking this tea more often for reasons as mentioned and more importantly, the Qi that this tea brings to my body. Warmth and improved blood circulation, where the most obvious effects are felt at my fingertips.

My experience with high quality pu'er finally opened doors to yet another dimension of tea appreciation also known as 品茶 (pin3 cha2). Notice the three squares in the character 品 (pin3)? This reminds us of how tea can be appreciated - in three sips. It is very enlightening to witness language at work here in conveying the subtleties of enjoying tea in a meaningful way.