Myung Won "Hadong Green Tea"

After receiving this tea as a gift at the COEX Tea World Festival from Myung Won's booth, I was very excited to get home and try it. The chairwoman of the company is holder of Korea's Intangible Cultural Asset Number 27 for the Royal Court Tea Ceremony, and has been recognized with the Ok-Gwan (Jade) Order of Cultural Merit from the Korean Government.

The box was divided into two small packages, one with 20g of "녹차 Green Tea", and the other 20g of "홍차 Black Tea". I found the simplicity of the names a bit puzzling since, traditionally, Korean green tea is known as 작설차 (Jakseol Cha/Sparrow's Tongue tea) and is then divided into 우전 (Ujeon), 세작 (Sejak), and 중작 (Jungjak) for the first, second, and third flushes.

The second sign that I may have overestimated this tea was the leaves themselves. Though a bold, sweet fragrance emerged when I cut open the foil pack, reminiscent of strawberry jam, the elegantly curled leaves, beautiful to look at, had many bright green leaves mixed in. In other respected teas from the area, these would have been painstakingly removed during the roasting and drying process.

The steeped leaves had a full balance of sweet and tart that eventually faded into a piney astringency. The aftertaste was rich and a burst of sweetness on the tongue left a pleasurable final impression. The finished leaves varied widely in size, but most closely resembled a Jungjak harvest.

Somewhere between my initial great expectations and subsequent skepticism after inspecting the packaging and leaves, this tea ended up being very delightful. Though it lacked the subtlety of the highest quality Hadong teas, it is still a much appreciated gift that I will enjoy 'till the end.

Baek San Cha • 백산차

Baek San Cha (White Mountain Tea) • 백산차

Thousands of years before the first tea seeds were brought from China, the earliest people on the Korean peninsula harvested a tisane that, according to historical documents was so revered that is was used as an offering in sacrificial and memorial ceremonies. Over time, this tea was forgotten and it began to be assumed that it was legend and perhaps never existed at all.

Lead by a trail of historical documents and references, in the summer of 2000, Korea rediscovered it's lost national tea on the slopes of Baek Du San, Korea's largest and most sacred mountain, along the border of North korea and China. It turns out that the plant is Rhododendron tomentosum, aka  Marsh Labrador tea, a common traditional medicinal herb across the far northern hemisphere, and was still being harvested on the Chinese side of the mountain.

When I came to Korea, this was one of the first teas I bought. Not knowing the language, I actually thought it was some sort of Korean rosemary tea, from the long, thin leaves and intense, herbal fragrance. Wild rosemary is also one of it's names, so I must not have been the only one to think so. A few years later, I hadn't forgotten this unique tisane, and went back to look for some more. That's when I was able to learn more of it's story. Though the vendor didn't give any reasons, he said three leaves is all you need in a small pot. Once I found the English name of this tea and started doing some readings, I discovered that though it's an ancient herbal remedy, it also contains ledol, a toxin that causes cramps and paralysis, and can be deadly in strong doses. I must wonder if this was to do with the disappearance of this time?

The retailers describes Baek San Cha as having a minty, pine scent and flavour. Personally, it reminds me of crisp fall mornings, when smoke from my father's coal forge hung low in the air. The scent and flavour are both intense and intriguing. A strong herbal spiciness and slightly salty. It's very cool and tingly in the mouth and throat. There's actually very little words can do to describe the over-all experience of this tisane. If you do find some, though, just remember to brew it with care.

from Wiki:

Toxicology
Labrador tea has narcotic properties. Evidence suggests that excessive consumption of the plant may cause delirium or poisoning. Toxic terpenes of the essential oils cause symptoms of intoxication, such as slow pulse, lowering of blood pressure, lack of coordination, convulsions, paralysis, and death. It is apparently safe as a weak tisane, but should not be made too strong.

In these photos, I used about six times the amount of leaves I usually use (they were taken before I'd read about the risks). I did feel drowsy and had slight discomfort in my stomach, so seriously, be careful. The extra leaves didn't affect the flavour but it did add a rusty tint to a usually clear brew.

Gu Jung Gu Po Cha • 구중구포차

Gu Jung Gu Po Pu Cha • 구중구포차

When I mentioned to Mr Ahn (my tea mentor) that I actually preferred Korean Jiri Mountain green tea to Chinese tea, he refused to accept my statement (he may be the only teashop owner in Korea who would disagree with me!). He told me good Korean green tea is only a 'C' compared to an 'A+' Chinese green tea. He did how ever add that Korean 'Gu Jung Gu Po' (구중구포, Nine Roasts Nine Dries) does match an 'A' Chinese green.

This is one of the rarest and most expensive Korean green tea. As far as I know, there a couple of monks who produce this tea, mostly for personal use, family an friends, I'm not sure what else, if anyone, may be making it. Mr Ahn manages to get a small amount to sell. The fresh, spring Gu Jung Gu Po sells for $250/80g, more than I've ever been able to afford, but My Ahn is generous enough to sample it when it arrives in mid-May. (The photo above is a February product, but still $100/50g, but not the same tea we sampled this day). If you think nine roastings are excessive, they're not. They're perfect! Perhaps ten would be excessive...

The tiny, dry leaves are twisted and deep bluish-green. The smell from the freshly cut package is sweet like apricot.

Korean green tea is prepared with very cool water, especially the first pour which may be as low as 50ºC but generally around 70~80ºC. Mr Ahn fills the 'sugu' (cooling vessel, 숙우, 熟盂) with water as he heats the pot and cups from the kettle. With the sugu still holding water, he puts a couple of heaping scoops of leaves into the pot, then fills the pot with the water from the cups for the first steep, letting it sit for about 20 seconds. Since it only filled the long row of cups about half-way, he then added the water from the sugu, letting it steep for just a few seconds before filling the cups. After serving, he immediately fills the sugu again, then we drink as he waits for the water to cool. Korean tea requires a degree of patience for the best results.

The tea is very translucent with just a touch of a green hue. Korean green tea generally has light, delicate, sweet taste. Gu Jung Gu Po is deeper, fruitier, and more complex. There is an noticeable roasted flavour  but still very delicate, nothing at all like a heavily roasted Chinese oolong, even after being roasted nine times.

The leaves turn a fresh, bright green the moment they are wet, typical of Korean green tea. Requiring two steeps to fill the cups for everyone, the leaves lasted just a few servings, but the yearly samples of this tea are always my favorite.

When the leaves were exhausted, he filled each of our cups with the soggy leaves and finally appreciated them in the most thorough way, by eating the tender, young tips, until there were none remaining.