Zhuni Ba'le (Guava) Teapot

After narrowing down Chen Tu Gen's pots to a select few, the one that initially caught my eye still stood out, a Ba Le (芭樂/Guava) shaped pot, similar to the Pear-shaped pots I love so much but with a flat lid, making it slightly more balanced and easier to handle. 

On closer inspection, the craftsmanship of the pot is flawless, down to the tiniest details. The thin spout is elegantly curved with a pointed edge. The inner edge of the handle is worked flat, adding to the pots aesthetic. finally, the top knob, or bead, as I prefer to call it, is perfectly formed, slightly tapered at the top where the air spout is meticulously clean. Meticulous may be the best over-all adjective for this pot, every single grain of its zhuni clay, meticulously crafted to the point of obsession.

The zhuni clay also makes a delicate, wrinkled, skin-like texture that will continue to develop with use. 

Directing focus to the inside of the pot, the first thing I observed is that the lid was perfectly snug and the rim of the pot was as smooth as glass. Where in even some of my best pots the inner seems along the bottom of the pot and inside the lid are a bit sloppy, both the inner seam of the pot and the lid have cleaned with a groove. 

Performance wise, the zhuni clay makes it a great pot for any type of tea but really great for puer. That said, I've been using this one for Tie Guan Yin. The erect spout makes a beautiful, fountain-like arc while pouring. The thinness makes for a bit of a slow pour, but that usually doesn't concern me. What did concern me at first is that the pot is so thin it made me apprehensive until my fingers adjusted. The top bead is also so tiny that my clumsy fingers had difficult grasping it. I've taken to lifting it on and off with the tongs, which is a good practice, anyway. The high-quality, highly porous zhuni clay and thin walls also let the clay develop a patina very quickly. After just a few uses, it had already developed a nice sheen and in only five months it's already showing a small buildup inside.

For anyone in search of a nice, authentic zhuni pot, you won't find anything better on the market for a comparable price than one of Chen Tu Gen's.

Link to Kkik Da Geo:
http://kkikdageo.com./bbs/view.php?uid=53&startPage=1&boardid=in_chinaboard2
No English, but if you have any questions, feel free to leave them in the comments.

陳兎根 • Chen Tu Gen

Last year, Chen Tu Gen, a Chinese man from Yixing, came into Kkik Da Geo with a collection of hand-made pots, hoping to do business in Korea. He said that all the shops he'd visited weren't interested (they most likely didn't trust him) and Kkik Da Geo was the last place he was trying before going back to China.

When he unveiled his pots, their jaws dropped at what they beheld; a perfect blend of technique, artistry, and precious, rare clay. A combination rarely seen these days. As far as teashops in Seoul go, few owners have Mr Ahn's eye for clay and he immediately recognized that the pots were authentic zisha and zhuni clays. Needless to say, they immediately agreed to sell his pots, considering their meeting him to be "in-yeon", a sort of karmic-affintity. 

Not long after, I visited their website and my own eyes nearly popped out when I saw the new collection of pots they had. The one that amazed me the most was a peach-branch pot with a heart-shaped spout. I'd never seen anything like it. Unfortunately, by the time I made it into Seoul, it had been sold, but I was pleased to set aside an elegantly crafted zhuni guava pot. The stone used to make zhuni clay has been extinct since the early 1970's, but his supply of clay has been in his family for 200 years and he inherited it from his grandfather.

As fate would have it, just a few days after I bought the guava pot, I dropped by the shop just as a parcel arrived from Chen Tu Gen. Mr Ahn carefully unwrapped a zisha pear-branch pot for me to admire and said it was mine if I wanted it. At first I said no, but called them the next day to change my mind. They let me pay it off as I could and after four long months of admiring it through the glass display case, I was able to bring it home to join the rest of my indulgences. 

What amazed me the most about these pots, aside from their perfect form, is how fast they sold. In even a week between visits I'd notice more than a dozen would be gone. There were several of them that were accented with gold leaf for more than twice the price of a regular one and within two weeks they were all gone. 

Not that I plan on selling them anytime soon, but if there's one justification to owning these pots, beyond desire/greed, they are actually good investments, as their value is guaranteed to grow. Really, though, they just make drinking tea that much more enjoyable.

Here are a couple of photos I took at Kkik Da Geo with my phone (not the greatest quality). I will do a proper, in-depth review of each one when time permits.

> Chen Tu Gen's Ba Le (Guava) pot <

Yi Wu Mountain, Wild Leaves, Menghai Product Company, Year 2005 (Green/Sheng)

Yi Wu Mountain, Wild Leaves, Menghai Product Company, Year 2005 (Green/Sheng)

There's one reason and one reason only that I don't exclusively buy 30+ year old puer, money. That said, I've quite enjoyed an eight year old bingcha from The Chinese Tea Shop that I purchased after finding Daniel's description intriguing:

"This recipe uses many tips, although the flavors are a bit more aggressive than expected. Rich camphor accompanied by mossy and earthy tones dominate the first brews. The camphor notes eventually fade allowing the moist rich mossy earth flavors to broaden out. Lightly flowery taste with honey overtones. Smooth, rich character if made with care. Excellent potential."

There are two things to pay attention to in his description, "excellent potential" and "if made with care". Let me emphasize that "if" one more time...

My love of oolong tea has left my tea making skills disproportionately developed and most of my experience with puer has been either well aged or shu puer. So, unaware of the kick in the mouth I was about to be steeping in, I filled my pot with a nice large chuck of wild leaves, with a few loose crumbs for balance, rinsed, and eagerly poured the first cup.

The sent was much as advertised, mossy, smoky, camphor. The moment the drink wet my mouth, though, wow, a mind-shattering bitterness took over my consciousness to the point that I nearly felt nauseous. I took about half of the leaves out of the pot and tried again, and though it was tolerable, it was still very strong. After tolerating the first few over powering steeps, it eased into a very nice tea. The amazing thing about the initial blast of overzealous infusing was the residue of tea oil built up in my throat. Throughout the whole day, and late into the night, the aftertaste emerged, as strong as if I'd just drunk a few cups. It's the only time I've had an aftertaste out do that of Phoenix Dancong, and out-did-it it did by a lot.

I've since tried this tea with varying amounts of leaf, and even a small chunk is very enjoyable but I actually enjoy a but of the harshness so I don't mind a medium sized piece. I haven't experienced the everlasting aftertaste of the first experience, but I also haven't been nauseated by this tea since, either. I'm actually not sure if the cake I ordered will ever get to reach its potential, I've already gone through half of it in a few months. For only $20, though, I can easily get another one, or three!