Nan Nuo Pa Sa unfermented puer

• Nan Nuo (Pa Sa) Unfermented Puerh 
• Region: Menghai County, southwestern Yunnan
• Type: Mid Altitude Puerh (1200 metres)
• Harvest: Spring 2014
• Harvesters: The Hani people

Last week, I had the pleasure of coming home from work to find a 100g disc of Nannuo Pa Sa non-fermented puer waiting in the mailbox, from Jalam Teas.

Usually, a fresh puer is samples as a basis for comparison as the tea ages and changes. This particular puer, however, is meant to be consumed without aging/fermenting. Normally, you'd expect a tea like this to be quite bitter and astringent, but the area where this tea is grown is known for producing leaves that are sweeter than normal. Something else to consider about this tea is that in the area that it's produced, it is preferred to be consumed without ageing or fermenting. Though it may age well, it is not meant to be.

Unwrapping the paper revealed a very nice looking cake with a pleasant range of colours, from dark and rusty to bright green and nearly white. For my first tasting, I like to push a tea to its limit and see its full potential. I decided to use a small pot and stuff it full of leaves and give it a good, long steep. The result was a bright, honey-golden brew. The taste was much like what you'd expect with any young puer, but even pushed as hard as it was, it remained remarkably smooth. There was an expected bitterness, considering the concentration of the steep, but it was not the slightest bit astringent, which was a great surprise. I've brewed eight-year-old puers in a similar way that were like a boot to the mouth upon tasting them (I'm thinking of you, wild Yiwu puer!). The cha-qi was strong and energizing. Inspecting the leaves, they seemed to be mostly young, tender leaves and buds. The colour was a uniform, slightly olive green without and noticeable blotches or any other sign of oxidization or fermentation.

In following sessions, I tested the leaves with a more standard gong-fu approach, still using a small pot, but with about half the ratio of leaves. The result was a lovely brew, still with a gorgeous honey-like broth, but brighter, maintaining the distinctive character of young  puer but with a subtlety I'd not encountered before. It had just enough of an edge to keep it interesting without crossing the boundary into bitterness.

Though my personal tastes lie mostly with oolongs and vintage puer, it would not be fair to compared this tea to any of those. Taking it exactly for what it is, a green, non-fermented puer, it has a relatively gentle character and is uncommon for a fresh puer. I've had young puer that could compare in smoothness but not in subtlety and they were also valued for their potential to age.

Overall, I'm very positive about this tea. If I had to nitpick, I would say it was lacking that lingering aftertaste that often defines a great Chinese tea but perhaps this is a trade off for its subtlety. By no means is it a deal breaker. This Nannuo Pa Sa confidently exclaims, "This is what I am, take it or leave it." And I don't mind taking!

Learning to Understand Hong Cha

Last month, Prof Ahn invited me to sit in on a tea class which happened to be on hong cha, "red tea".

I mentioned last summer that hong cha is my least favorite style of Chinese tea. On top of that, I also mentioned the frustrating time I had trying to brew it. For this, I was eager to taste Prof Ahn's brew and watch his technic.

Using Yixing "Gong Fu" Hong Cha, he scooped a fair amount of leaves into a glass pot. Barely giving the water enough time to cool from a boil, he filled the pot and let it steep for a relatively long time, nearly a minute. So far, he'd done everything I'd thought I'd done wrong and then some... Tasting it just confirmed my feeling, as it was strong and murky, though not bitter. Nothing of the sweet fragrance of the leaves was apparent. (Despite my lack of enthusiasm, hong cha leaves are actually one of my favorite smelling.) After the third cup, I began thinking that I just don't "get" hong cha. Then something marvelous happened; I burped!

It wasn't just any old burp. It was a magical burp filled with all the lovely "huigan" that had been building in my throat with each sip. All the lovely sweet floral fragrance of the leaves came out like a small explosion. I thought, "This is what hong cha is about!" (just to be clear, it was a silent burp, no heads were turned! ;) ).

"Huigan" is a difficult word to translate, but essentially it's a Chinese term for a sweet aftertaste and what most Chinese tea drinkers truly judge a fine tea by. It reminded me of the general difference in how Westerners and Far-Eastern approach tea. Westerners tend to prefer the initial, direct taste of the tea, whereas in China it's the subtle, lingering effect of tea that is desirable. I appreciate the elegance and sophistication of the Chinese approach, though I don't always remember to apply it.

Xue Hao Snow Tips Yellow Tea • 雪毫黃茶

Browsing The Chinese Tea Shop for something new, I was intrigued by Xue Hao Snow Tips Yellow Tea. I'd not come across Chinese yellow tea before and was curious how it compared with Korean yellow tea.

When the parcel arrived, it was the first one I opened. The first thing that was obvious was that it was not going to be anything like Korean yellow tea, at all... The leaves were tiny, coiled, and full of fine white hairs. It looked nearly identical to Bi Lo Chun, except for a lighter, slightly yellow colour.

From what I gathered, it's harvested and produced in much the same way, as well, using only the tiniest buds of early spring. The one element of difference between yellow and green tea is that after they are withered and quickly heated to stop the enzymes from further changing the leaves, the process known as "kill-green", yellow tea is gently wrapped in cloth and left to sit in its own warmth, drawing more aroma and flavour from the leaves and giving them their yellowish tint.

I always love the thrill of opening an unknown tea and getting the first, fresh scent of the leaves. This one was very interesting, fresh, sharp, with a distinct lemon zest and cocoa aroma.

Deciding it best to treat it as a green tea, I gave it a slightly longer infusion with not too hot water. The result was a pale, yet bright yellow brew, speckled with tea down. The taste was very clear and refreshing. Not surprisingly, it tasted much like a fine Bi Lo Chun, with a distinct nutty bitterness, but the lemon-cocoa aroma of the leaves came through very nicely to give it a unique complexity that, in my opinion, made it slightly more enticing.

The ultra fine quality of the buds required to make yellow tea results in a very small harvest each year, making this a rather difficult tea to find. It seems I may have got a hold of the last bit from The Chinese Tea Shop, as the site was sold out when I returned to read more about it. But, if you ever come across any, I highly recommend it. (Or, if you happen to be in Korea in the next little bit, come over and I'll share a pot with you! I just can't guarantee I'll be keeping it for long. ;) )

Ying De Hong #9 • 英德紅茶

With my order of Dian Hong cha, Daniel included a sample of Ying De Hong #9, which made me wonder of perhaps I should have made an order of this one. Given my difficulties with figuring out Dian Hong, I kept this one aside until I had a bit of a clue what I was doing. It was actually with this tea that I finally unraveled the secret of hong cha and became an instant fan.

Ying De Hong is a relatively new tea, first introduced in 1959. It is harvested in the city of Ying De, in Guang Dong Province (famous for Phoenix Dan Cong oolong), but made from broad-leaf plants brought from Yunnan (Puer country but also where Dian Hong is from). Ying De Hong #9 is the premium grade and has won several awards in China and internationally, including Winner of Chinese National Black Tea Competition, in 1980, and Paris Food Tourism Association Gold Award in 1986.

This particular sample is from Bai Zha factory and was harvested in May, 2011. Red teas don't always age well, but this one does, so three years has added nicely the flavours very nicely. It's mostly made of tips and the first two leaves. The leaves are very dark contrasted by bright the golden tips.

Letting the boiled water cool and following the same 20-15-20-30-40 second steep schedule, I was totally amazed by the delicious sweetness of the tea. I'd heard this tea compared to cocoa, which I didn't really notice, but found it in perfect accord with Daniel's description of "quasi-longan", very sweet and fruity. Though I'd like to try a few other black teas first, I'd much like to get a larger portion of this tea in the future. It was simply lovely.

Premium Dian Hong Cha • 滇紅茶

I honestly can't say that I've ever had a tea that I flat out didn't like, but I can admit there are some types of tea that I get more or less excited about than others. Red tea (black in the West) being one of them.

In all fairness to the red/black tea family, most of my experience with it has been cheap tea bags but aside from the taste, the high-end Indian and Sri Lankan teas I've had gave me the jitters, which is exactly why I don't drink coffee.

Upon learning that China actually had a long history of producing red tea, I figured I ought to try it out. Looking through the selection on The Chinese Tea Shop's site, I was immediately seduced by the images of Dian Hong (Golden Tips Red Tea or also Yunnan Gold). I'm not usually one to judge a book by its cover, but with nothing else to go on, I figured at least if I don't like it, I'll have fun admiring the long, slender golden buds. The description sounded just as appealing, though, claiming the tea to have a "peach" flavour.

When the box arrived a couple of weeks later, the first package I opened was the Dian Hong. I was immediately greeted by a warm, intensely sweet scent that I found more citrus than peach but amazing none the less! I thought, if the brew tastes anything like the scent, than I chose well. 

What I was actually in store for, though, was a lesson in how untalented I am at brewing red tea... I remembered Prof Ahn's wife, Mrs Kim, telling me that green and red teas are both very difficult to learn. Not sure exactly what I did wrong, I began a long process of trail and error until eventually, several months and most of the package later, I realized everything. I'd started off treating it as an oolong, lots of leaves, very hot water, when all along the hint was in Mrs Kim's teaching. Using just a couple grams of leaf in a glass pot and letting the water sit in a 'suku' (cooling bowl), as I do with green tea, until it cooled to about 80°C, I was finally rewarded with a cup of Dian Hong that tasted very nearly to the delicious smell of the leaves. I followed the same steep schedule as green tea, 20-15-20-30-45-60... and found it just right. A very pleasant, sweet fruity taste and clear, bright orange colour.

Compared to Indian black tea, I found Dian Hong to still have a strong surge but a more manageable one.

A traditional way to brew Da Hong Pao

This is a technique that I very seldom use but thought it would be worth sharing. I think it's especially useful if you must be conservative with your stash or are down to the last few grams and have a lot of fragmented leaves and stems. Just to be clear, we are still talking about tea, here...  At least Da Hong Pao isn't know for buds!

First, get a clean piece of paper and fold it in half, In the fold, place a small amount of leaves. You don't need much, just enough to cover the bottom of the pot, um teapot. Now, I can't believe I'm going to say this, it's hurting my fingers just to type it, but gently crush the leaves inside the folded paper (this is where I should reiterate, we're still dealing with tea!) and slide the broken leaves straight into the heated pot. This is way I recommend this technique when your near the end of your leaves and there are already several crumbs. I feels sacrilegious to destroy perfectly whole leaves, especially Da Hong Pao leaves.

Don't expect to squeeze much more than three steeps from the leaves, but for the small amount of leaves used you will get three surprisingly potent servings. The small fragments may clog up and make pouring slow, but I am for a standard 15-10-15-25 second pours, but may leave the forth steep for as long as I feel. As I mentioned, there really isn't much left by this time, anyway.