Removing the lid between steeps

It's important, when brewing tea, to remove the lid between steeps. It allows the steam to escape, rather than remain in the pot to cook the leaves. If the lid is left on, the steam will oxidize the leaves, affecting the flavour.

Holding an Yixing teapot

When you see the looped handle on an Yixing teapot, its intuitive to hook your index around it to lift it and pour. But one of the first things the Tea Masters at Kkik Da Geo taught me was the proper way to hold them, not by hooking it with your index, but by pinching the handle between your thumb and middle finger at the highest point of the handle, away from the body of the pot, and using your index to hold the lid down while pouring.

At first, it feels a bit awkward but it quickly becomes comfortable and the advantages are immediately obvious. But hooking your index around the handle, your grip is not strong and the pot can easily slip down and press the hot teapot against you other fingers. It's also easy to burn your knuckle against the pot, as it pokes towards the pot inside the loop. But by pinching it, you have a much more secured grip are more controlled. With your free index finger, you don't need your other hand to keep the lid from dropping. A pot with good shui pin is perfectly balance when held this way, making the pot feel lighter and more comfortable to pour.

When held correctly, your thumb and middle finger should not touch. Though there's usually a practical reason for everything, this may be more for etiquette or elegance. It could also be that if your fingers are touching  the grip is not centered but too high on the handle, making the pot vulnerable to slipping out.

Gong Fu Feng Huang Dan Cong (Phoenix Single Bush), "honey" flavour • 功夫凤凰单枞

❧ Phoenix Oolong, 'Honey' flavour ❧

The first time I tasted Fenghuang Dan Cong, 凤凰单枞, at Kkikdageo (imo, the best tea shop in Korea!), I was amazed by the unique, intense flavour of the tea. Traditionally, Phoenix Oolong is described as having a honey-orchid flavour and is sometimes even called Phoenix Honey Orchid tea, but I also find that it carries the impression of lemon zest bitter over tones.

Kkikdageo's Phoenix Oolong comes from the 600 year old Song Jong, 宋種, trees that were found by a Song dynasty emperor growing on Phoenix Mountain. It is very difficult to find a better Phoenix Dancong. The leaves are between 60-70% fermented and are rolled long and pointy. The colour is very dark brown with reddish tinges. It's preferable to let the leaves age at least six months and are even better after a year or two.

After heating a teapot and dropping a heaping scoop of leaves in, an intense floral aroma comes wafting out from the pot, filling the space with a warm scent, like dried mango, citrus, and honey. I raise the open pot to my nose and take a slow, deep whiff. The overwhelming pleasure immediately stimulates craving, but I put the pot down, return the lid, and let leaves heat a little more, awakening the tea's essential oils.

The way Kkikdageo taught me to prepare Phoenix Dan Cong is with slightly cooler water than usual, about 70-80ºC, 21-27ºF. The temperature affects the balance between scent and taste. Hotter water tends the produce a stronger smell, but a little cooler water develops a deeper taste.

After rinsing the leaves with a quick dousing, I fill the pot once more and let it steep for just a few seconds. From the first steeping, the rich Phoenix leaves produce a strongly flavoured liquor. The colour is clear, bright yellow-brown and the scent is of warm, sharp sweetness, like lemon tart, deep and heavy. A strong, pleasant aftertaste paints the back of the throat as it goes down and the roof of the mouth and gums tingle. There is also a strong acidic sensation on the tongue. The second infusion is a little stronger and less sweet, and the third and fourth are much the same, and by the fifth infusion a slight saltiness appears on the back of the tongue during the aftertaste. The leaves are extremely durable and even after the eighth infusion, there is still strong flavour. But, eventually, the Phoenix takes flight, leaving a faint whiff in the breeze, and the leaves become an empty nest.

Even long after finishing this tea, the taste clings in the mouth, especially on the back of the tongue and in the throat, emerging unexpectedly, but pleasantly, throughout the day.

❧

Feng Huang Dan Cong • 凤凰单枞

On Phoenix Mountain, One is Many.  

If I had to choose a single favourite tea, which I hope no one ever asks me to do, I just might have to pick Feng Huang Dan Cong. 

Feng Huang, 凤凰, is Chinese for Phoenix, and Dan Cong, 单枞, can be translated as 'single bush'. Simply, dan, 单, is one, and cong, 枞, is many, so, to me, the name Feng Huang Dan Cong, is like a poem, "On Phoenix Mountain, one is many."

The name originates from a combination of Phoenix Mountain, where the tea grows, and the technique of keeping the leaves harvested from each tree separate, rather than blending the leaves, how most other teas are produced.

There are many other ways that one becomes many on Phoenix Mountain, though.The oldest tree of the mountain, about 900 years old, over a couple of centuries, spread across the slopes, covering the mountain with tea trees. The trees that grow on Phoenix Mountain are known for their single trunk that umbrellas out into many branches, and on each branch sprouts several leaves. I haven't been told where the original tree came from, but I like to imagine the seed was dropped there by the old Phoenix of the mountain, but feel free to believe otherwise... ^_^

The mist covered mountains are the perfect place for growing tea. Hot days and cool nights also add to the quality of the leaves, which is why mountain tea is so nice. The rocky terrain of the moutains also add the warmth and richness of the tea. The higher up the mountain, and the older the tree, the better quality the tea leaves are. It's because of the unique flavour of each tree that they are kept separate. The area also has thousands of years of tea history and is a likely place of the origin of Gongfu Cha.

❧

Since I've yet to visit Phoenix Mountain, the photos I've used come from here: http://www.hojotea.com/article_e/phoenix_e.htm#

If you're interested, it is an excellent, much more in depth article on Phoenix tea.

Wu Dong Mountain, a part of the Phoenix Mountain chain, is where the best trees grow.

Three Sips

Though there are no rules for enjoying Gongfu Cha, there are "ways" that have evolved.

Gongfu teacups are very small, so that every sip is fresh. They are usually shallow and wide so that they can be held without burning your fingers. Hold the cup between your thumb and index or middle finger at he rim, then turn your hand so that the back of your hand is facing out. If you are younger than others at the table, it is etiquette to hold the palm of your left hand just beneath the cup. This is most likely a Confucian thing, but will be noticed if you are drinking tea in the Far-East. 

·1· Perceive 

The first thing to admire is the colour of the liquor, its translucence or opacity, dependending on which type of tea you're drinking. As you become familiar with the different teas, you will know immediately just by looking at it what to expect, if it is a bit strong, a little thin, just right.

·2· Fragrance

Gently wave the teacup back and forth below your nostrils, slowly inhaling the tea oils as they oxidize. Let the fragrance of the tea consume you, then holding onto the scent, invite the teacup to your lips.

·3· Three Sips

With the tea's fragrance still fresh in your senses, take a small sip and hold it in your mouth a while, allowing the tea time to perform its choreography. Different teas behave differently, interacting in unique ways, or with different parts of your mouth, perhaps with subtle elegance, or others with bold complexities. Three sips are best, especially if the tea is very hot.

Of course, the best way to enjoy tea is with others. The colour, the scent, the taste, all become secondary to the conversation with company over which it's meant to be drunk, whether it's in three sips, or in one...

❀

Gong Fu Puerh Cha • 功夫普洱茶

Pu-erh cha, 普洱茶, is a type of tea that has been tightly packed, usually into disk, brick, or knob shapes, then fermented for several years. Though they are increasingly rare nowadays, it takes thirty years for pu-erh's cha-qi, 茶齊, tea energy, to be considered truly developed. A forty, sixty, or even one-hundred year old pu-erh is even better, as its character continues to mellow with age. Much of the tea trade revolves around pu-erh cha, and it's what you'll most likely be served when you visit a tea master.

More recently, an extra step of tumbling the wet leaves has been added before pressing the leaves to imitate the aging process. These teas are known as 'shou cha', 熟茶, 'ripe', 'cooked', or 'black' pu-erh, while the traditional aging process is known as 'sheng cha', 生茶, 'raw' or 'green' pu-erh. Sheng pu-erh is usually preferred for aging, though there are also many aged shou pu-erh on the market.

Though, Pu-erh can be quite a complex tea, it's actually the simplest tea to brew. It's almost impossible to ruin a pot of pu-erh tea, though you'll certainly notice when it's prepared with skill. I've chosen an 18 year old sheng cha, and an antique Yixing pear shaped pot, which wouldn't suit shou cha, but I find brews this sheng cha very well.

For gong fu cha, you generally want to fill the pot about a third with dry tea. With pu'erh you can add even more. It's good to add a balance of larger chunks with a bit of smaller bits, as the chunks will develop slowly and the small pieces will boost the initial infusions.

Once your water has reached a "crab-eye" boil (bubbles the size of crab eyes), the first step is to heat the pot and the cup(s). Fill the pot entirely, then returning the lid, pour water all over the outside of the pot. This also helps to wash any dust away. The water can be emptied out into the cups to heat them as well. Temperature is important, as the tea oils respond to heat, and a cold pot or cup will "steal" the fragrance of the tea.

Now you can add your tea, and if you like, let it sit for a moment in the hot teapot. Especially with aged pu'erh tea, it is important to quickly rinse the tea of dust. Fill the teapot with water, wait a few seconds and empty it. The first time you add water to the tea, it will be very bubbly and these bubbles will carry out the dust. Scrape them off with the bottom of the lid and then pour a bit of water over the pot once more. Rinsing the leaves also start to awaken them and you'll notice the scent emerging from the pot. I always enjoy smelling the tea or even the inside of the lid and getting a hint of what's to come.

Gong fu cha has very quick infusions, for pu'erh the first should only be about 10-15 seconds, depending on personal taste and the character of the tea. The second infusion is the shorter, only 8-10 seconds, since the leaves have further awoken. The third infusion is the shortest, 6-8 seconds, and the leaves are now at their prime. The third infusion is often considered the best. For the fourth and fifth add a couple more seconds to each brew, then a few more seconds after that. A good quality tea will continue to deliver about eight servings, though you can continue with brews a few minutes, an hour, or even day long infusions if you really want to get everything you can out of the leaves.

It's important to pay close attention to the brewing times, not to drain too much of the tea at one time, leaving it thin for the next infusions. Eventually, you form a type of "communication" with the tea, where your intuition begins to guide your hand. The tea tells you when it is ready.

Little things I enjoy while brewing tea are watching the water suddenly evaporate from the side of the pot, the smell of the cup just after it's been emptied, the warm feel of it in my hand, and most of all, the joy of serving someone a great cup of tea!

dry leaves

rinse, to be discarded

first infusion, full color 

second infusion, still lots of bubbles 

wet leaves

third infusion, some bubbles 

fourth infusion, no more bubbles 

my wife's untouched second cup compared with the eighth infusion 

used leaves

Yixing Zisha teapots • 宜興紫砂壺

»a basic intro to Yixing Zisha teapots«

When it comes to brewing gong fu cha, an authentic Yixing Zisha teapot is usually preferred. Yixing is a district in eastern China and zisha, "purple clay", is the clay mined in the area.

The reason these teapots are exclusively desired is the supreme quality of Yixing zisha clay for infusing tea leaves. The porous quality of the clay retains heat and also absorbs the tea's essential oils, eventually curing it until the pot itself takes on the fragrance of the teas brewed in it. For this reason, a true gong fu cha master will only use one particular type or family of tea in one pot, as the build up of oils will enhance the same or similar tea but may not harmonize with other teas. One should also never use soaps or detergents to wash a pot, as they would remove the precious oils from the pores. It also explains why tea enthusiasts may develop an obsession with collecting teapots, in search of the perfect pot for each type of tea.

An Yixing teapot's form is typically elegant and very simple. The beauty of an Yixing pot is in the smooth lines of its contour and balanced form. For brewing gong fu cha, simplicity is essential as a uniform pot will distribute heat evenly while steeping, ensuring a proper infusion.

Yixing teapots are small, by western standards, usually between 3-7 ounces (90-200 ml), or even a single ounce, and vary in thickness and firing temperature. Generally, a thick walled, low-fired pot (about 1100ºC), will retain heat longer, making it suitable for teas requiring boiling water, such as a fully fermented puerh tea. The low firing also leaves them more porous, allowing them to absorb more of the tea's oils, helping to soften the taste of stronger tea. A thin walled, high-fired pot (about 1200ºC), is less porous, and absorbing less of the tea's oils, is suitable for fragrant, delicate tasting teas, such as Tie Guan Yin or high-mountain oolong.

Gong Fu Cha • 工夫茶

What is Gong Fu Cha? (a quick intro)

'Gong Fu', also pronounced as 'Kung Fu' in English, is translated roughly as, 'one with great skill'. 'Cha' simply means 'tea'. So, the practice of Chinese Gong Fu Cha can be understood as, 'tea with great skill'.

The preparation of Gong Fu tea is not a ceremony. Every action is done with the specific purpose and intention of serving the best possible cup of tea consistently so that each and every sip of tea may be enjoyed in its fullest potential.

A perfect cup of tea depends upon several factors; the tea plant, the harvesting of the leaves, processing the leaves, choosing a tea pot to suit the leaves, the quality and temperature of the water, the amount of tea to place in the pot, and the amount of time to steep each serving. By placing great focus on these elements, we learn the intricacies of Gong Fu Cha. When considering these factors, one can't help but observe that, like everything else in life, Gong Fu Cha does not depend solely on the one serving the tea, but rather an interconnectedness of of many; the harvesters, the tea master who processes the tea, the potter, and finally us enjoying each and every drop.