Professor Ahn's Scholar Tree Tea • 회화나무차

Not long ago, I dug out a small package of tea that Mrs Kim (Mr Ahn's wife) had given me a few years ago. It was a special tisane, handmade with leaves Mr Ahn had harvested and roasted from his Scholar Tree (회화나무, Hwei-hwa namu).

In days of old, Scholar Trees were reserved for the royal courtyards and it was forbidden for common folk to own one. It was believed that Scholar Trees were a source of power and the king did not want to share. It was, however, permitted for temples to keep them and just up the block from Kkik Da Geo, at Jogyesa, the head temple of Korea's largest order, there is a massive Scholar Tree in the courtyard that blossoms in August, filling the entire ground with little light-yellow petals.

Emblematic of Mr Ahn's scholarly character (professor of calligraphy, tea master, traveler, patron of art), he keeps some Scholar Trees in his home, as well as outside the teashop, and in spring, when the leaves begin to bud, he crafts his own tea from it.

The leaves had reddened noticeably since she gave them to me six years ago, and I was concerned that maybe time had wasted them. Something I've learned is that some of the best teas are best enjoyed quickly even though there's an urge to treasure them slowly.

The tiny, curled, dusty leaves reminded me of a high-quality green tea. I gave them a quick rinse then steeped them for about 90 seconds, which was much too long. The colour was more ochre than I remembered, consistent with the change of the leaves, but it may have been a result of over steeping. The scent and flavour were as they were when fresh, though; reminiscent of autumn leaves, deep grassiness, slightly sour, with a strong herbal sweetness that emerges late.

The leaves yielded three full-tasting infusions, fading to a gentle, grassy sweetness at the end. I tried the tea a second time using fewer leaves, and the sourness did not appear. The brew was also much greener than the first tasting.

In traditional medicine, Scholar Tree leaves are one of the fifty fundamental herbs. It's notable medicinal properties include antibacterial, anti-cholesterolemic, anti-inflammatory, and antispasmodic.

Tie Luohan (Iron Arhat), 1990's Wuyi cliff tea • 1990 年代鐵羅漢岩茶

Tie Luohan (Iron Arhat), 1990's Wuyi cliff tea • 1990 年代鐵羅漢岩茶
1990 niándài Tiě Luóhàn Yán cháyè

Deciding that since Da Hong Pao was about the greatest thing since loose leaf tea, I really ought to try some other of Wuyi Mountain's famous "yan cha" (cliff/rock teas, 武夷山岩茶). I came cross this tea from The Chinese Tea Shop and was drawn not only to its name but also its description.

Tie Luohan is one of the four most famous yan cha. It's name literally means "Iron Arhat" (an Arhat is an "enlightened monk", for lack of a better simple explanation), or "Iron Warrior Monk". According to legend (and Wiki...), "this tea was created by a powerful warrior monk with golden-bronze skin, hence the name Tie Luohan."

It's been aged at least twenty years, though likely much longer. Daniel received it from an old man who ran a small grocery store. He added that many experienced tea drinkers have said that its character seems much older, reminiscent of even a 1960's oolong. Having not tasted this tea before, I have no personal reference point, but the aging process is said to have mellowed out its usually bitter nature and contributed a "medicinal" flavour.

The packaging for this tea is nice. A protective tin case with a print of Wuyi Mountain with the tea individually wrapped in twelve 5g paper squares, also with an Wuyi print. The colour scheme, design, and quality of the print look very 70's, another hint at a possibly older tea, but it could just mean they didn't update their design, too. My daughter liked the packaging so much that she immediately claimed the tea as hers.

Unwrapping one of the packs revealed a nice bundle of twisted, dark, reddish-brown leaves. Tie Luohan is usual described as having deep green leaves, so I take this as another sign of it's age. A rich, sweet aroma rose from the paper. The first steep produced a rich, dark, but clear orange liqueur. The taste was much like the smell; rich and sweet with a soft herbal aftertaste. In traditional Chinese medicine, herbal and medicinal are basically synonymous, so its "medicinal" description made sense. After my daughter slowly gulped her full cup, her eyes opened wide and she exclaimed, "Mmm, tastes like chocolate." It does have a similar quality to the richness of cocoa, but much sweeter.

The first few steeps were consistent, building a strong, sweet, herbal aftertaste. After the fifth steep, the flavour, as well as the deep orange colour lightened. Where the initial colour reminded me of the color of roast-squash, I found the final few steeps had a faint taste of squash, though I wonder if this could be the power of suggestion.

All in all, this is one of the most interesting teas I've had. It's "cha-qi" imparted a pleasant, mellow glow through my body, true to the replenishing "yan yun" (energy-giving) reputation of Wuyi yancha. The only thing that left me wondering about this tea was whether or not I should spread the word in case there won't be any left when I'm ready to order more!

The Chinese Tea Shop: 1990's Tie Luohan Wuyi Cliff Tea























Given the name and character of this tea, I thought my bronze Medicine Buddha would be a good companion!

Phoenix Dan Cong (flower flavor) • 鳳凰單樅花的味道

Phoenix Dan Cong (flower flavor) • 鳳凰單樅花的味道
Fènghuáng dān cōng huā de wèidào

With my first order from The Chinese Tea Shop, Daniel included a sample of Phoenix Dan Cong "flower" flavour. It was much like the lightly fermented Phoenix Dan Cong from Kkik Da Geo, but the leaves looked slightly more brilliant. Bursts of yellow and red in the long, twisted leaves made them seem other-worldly, perhaps grown in the garden of the Jade Palace, where a Phoenix makes its nest.

The rinsed leaves became even more radiant, aflame with vivid hues radiating from the pot. As I continued through each steep, I couldn't resisting admiring the leaves before replacing the lid, possible negatively affect the infusion.

The session turned into an outright marathon with these nutrient-packed leaves. It started off as expected, building an elegant, floral, slightly bitter flavour over the first few infusions until by the fourth, a thick, salty after-taste, characteristic of Phoenix Dan Cong, had build in the back of the throat. After the fifth cup, there was an expected decline in intensity but instead of fading like a cloud of smoke over the next couple of steeps, it kept smoldering on and on until nearly two hours later, after the sixteenth infusion, there was no more room in my belly (or my bladder) for anymore and little left to be extracted from the leaves, even if I weren't about to burst.

The final treat was examining the leaves. I'd never seen leaves like them. Psychedelic-jelly leaves or down feathers left by the departed Phoenix as it fled back to paradise?

Unfortunately, this particular Dan Cong is out of stock at The Chinese Tea Shop, but I'll certainly be trying his others in future orders, and if this one returns, it will be on my list, as well!