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.

making tea at Cheong Seok Gol; harvest

Last weekend, Kkik Da Geo organized a trip to Cheong Seok Gol (청석골), to pick and roast our own Jung-jak (중작), third flush green tea.

Cheong Seok Gol is one of the top three tea producing families in Korea (in terms of quality, not sales) but what sets it apart is that it's mix of wild and semi-wild tea bushes are also certified organic. I've been drinking their tea for six years, now, and even once, unsuccessfully, tried to find their tea farm on my own. Visiting them during production time is something I've been hoping to do for a long time. Getting to join in the production was more than I'd ever expected!

The tea field covers a south-facing slope of HwangJang San, one of the foot hills of Jiri San, in Hwagae Valley, the heart of Korean green tea. We arrived in the valley an hour ahead of schedule, so we met the Cheong Seok Gol tea master by SsangGye Temple and made a quick visit to Korea's first tea field, originally planted over 1000 years ago beneath a large bamboo grove. About 30 minutes further up the hill, there is also an ancient tea tree that is the biggest in Korea. We didn't have time to see it, but what a great excuse to come back next time!

Once we arrived at the house, we dropped our bags, climbed into little, hand-made monorail carts, and headed up the hill, through the tea bushes. At the top, we were given a little crash-course in what to look for. I knew the concept of what to look for, but while actually picking the leaves, I was more difficult. What you're looking for is a single, furry bud with one partially opened leaf and one small fully opened but tender leaf below it on a short stem. Since I usually drink Sejak (세작, second flush) or occasionally Ujeon (우전, first flush, ridiculously expensive), I had an eye for much smaller leaves. After a quick look at Mr Ahn's cull, I realized I wasn't doing too bad, though he did remind me to be sure to pick the second leaf. The bud and first leaf give the tea its sweetness but the more bitter second leaf round out the flavour.

After a couple of hours of picking, you start to feel it in your back as your shoulders start getting tired and tight. Then mental fatigue starts to consume you, like the first time you hike a mountain, or try meditating for more than 30 minutes and you start wondering if it's ever going to end. I took a few moments to breath in the mountain air, take in the beautiful scene and enjoy the moment. I couldn't help but notice the degree of intensity in the focus of Mr Ahn, as he carefully searched each bush for the best buds, working his way well down the slope while most of the rest of us were still close to where we'd first started.

As my harvest slowly started gaining weight, I tossed the sweating leaves around a little and held a handful up to my nose. The smell was a beautiful mix of soft, floral sweetness and strong, grassy citronella. After a few hours, we all gathered together, minus Mr Ahn, who'd made his way all the way to the bottom, we all began remarking on the intense smell of the leaves.

Not similar to my experiences hiking, but quite like my experience meditating, knowing that we were finished gave me a second wind, and since we'd arrived at the wild-bush section of the field, a few of us started topping off our harvest with the larger but still very tender wild leaves, pushing out from the stony slope.

Once we were all gathered in the workshop, the tea master weighed our hauls and we combined them in a couple of large, flat bamboo baskets. I managed to pick 300g and the fifteen of us together picked about 2kg of leaves.

When asked how we did, the tea master didn't come out and that we were terrible, but instead mentioned that one professional picker (usually old local women) could pick 2kg of leaves in a day, or 800g of tiny Ujeon buds. It wasn't the most direct of answers, but it had me laughing!

part 2; roasting & drying ⤷

Leaving Kkik Da Geo

Arriving in Hwagae Valley

Below Korea's first tea field

some nice tea buds

About $40,000 worth of Ujeon, Sejak, & Balhyo cha (fermented tea)

looking at leaves for Balhyo cha

boarding the tea train

heading up the mountain

Mr Ahn, picking tea

picking wild tea

my personal effort

Heading back down the mountain

our combined haul

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.