This week was not so much a tea week as a lack-of-tea week, but I felt like posting something for my grumpy tea brethren. Continue for grumblings of a grumpy tea addict. Topic: scarcity of hot water.
I traveled a bit for the holidays this year, and it made me realize how inconvenient my addiction to tea is. Decent tea is certainly not ubiquitous in the US, but neither is solidly hot water. I always bring along my little tea thermos, but I was staying in a hotel for a few days without a stove or kettle. When in desperation I eventually turned to the microwave, I found the leaves didn't appreciate microwave boiled water at all. It's not easy having a strange and highly specific addiction. But it feels so damn good!
I think I may start carrying a simple stove, fuel and kettle with me. A good way to complete the crazed, tea addicted alchemist aesthetic.
NOAH
Thursday, December 29, 2016
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Drinking with the Seasons
I don't reach for High Mountain Oolong as often as more oxidized, aged or roasted teas. But I must thank my relationship with seasonal green oolong drinking for teaching me some serious lessons. The idea sprang from drinking the winter harvest High Mountain Oolongs at FLT, and learning about their connection to the weather in Taiwan. The new season's teas came in a couple weeks ago and I've been drinking them, trying to get a solid handle on them since then. It seems they have been affected by Taiwan's especially mild winter this year.
So now, a couple days ago I was having tea with a scotch loving friend and realized something about the way I drink tea in contrast to the way he drinks scotch. Besides I get tea drunk while he gets drunk-drunk ;) It seems to be the case that from the earth to the tea table, tea takes a very clear and traceable path. In my own drinking, I strive to understand the leaves in terms of cause and effect. What was the cause (farming, processing, weather, aging, etc) that gave any particular effect that I feel in my mouth, nose or body. It's very interesting to me to read the leaves and broth like a story.
I realized this when my scotch buddy was giggling because I brought up 'dong qi' (winter “energy”). In describing what I meant, it turns out the feeling of dongqi is actually an amalgamation of a lot of different feelings which together point to the weather being sufficiently cool in the tea mountains during winter. But his experience as a scotch drinker is more analytical, perhaps, in that he would rather identify each feeling on its own. In scotch this makes sense, as the path of whiskey from earth to glass is hugely complicated by intricate processing, long term aging and storage. I think they're both very sexy drinks. Their contrastive natures seem to at least imply contrastive approaches in tasting. I'd appreciate input from the scotch-heads!
NOAH
So now, a couple days ago I was having tea with a scotch loving friend and realized something about the way I drink tea in contrast to the way he drinks scotch. Besides I get tea drunk while he gets drunk-drunk ;) It seems to be the case that from the earth to the tea table, tea takes a very clear and traceable path. In my own drinking, I strive to understand the leaves in terms of cause and effect. What was the cause (farming, processing, weather, aging, etc) that gave any particular effect that I feel in my mouth, nose or body. It's very interesting to me to read the leaves and broth like a story.
I realized this when my scotch buddy was giggling because I brought up 'dong qi' (winter “energy”). In describing what I meant, it turns out the feeling of dongqi is actually an amalgamation of a lot of different feelings which together point to the weather being sufficiently cool in the tea mountains during winter. But his experience as a scotch drinker is more analytical, perhaps, in that he would rather identify each feeling on its own. In scotch this makes sense, as the path of whiskey from earth to glass is hugely complicated by intricate processing, long term aging and storage. I think they're both very sexy drinks. Their contrastive natures seem to at least imply contrastive approaches in tasting. I'd appreciate input from the scotch-heads!
NOAH
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
A Thought on Tea Classification
I have a theory I'd like to test out on the wonderful tea geeks of the internet. I've been thinking about the way we classify tea. By this I mean the generally observed classification spectrum of green, white, yellow, oolong, black and puer. I don't mean to exclude the other possible iterations of that spectrum, that's just an example.
My idea is that it may be more useful to identify teas by their geographical, cultural and historic contexts. For example, although the Western tea market generally classifies Cliff Tea and Tie Guanyin as oolong, I've heard many Chinese tea drinkers call these by their own names and consider oolong also something unique more limited in scope. Same thing with Pheonix Teas. The context that got me thinking about this was when I was asking questions about the origin of Cliff Tea and Pheonix Tea. I don't think that the tea producers from each region got together and decided what they were making was oolong, they more probably were just making tea that fit their geology, geography and culture. I propose this kind of lens because I think it may get us as tea drinkers closer to the tea and its origins and help us look past abstractions.
I'm not saying we should do away with our characteristic/processing based spectrum concept by any means. I'm just thinking this is an interesting point of discussion. Please feel free (or obligated) to comment ;)
NOAH
My idea is that it may be more useful to identify teas by their geographical, cultural and historic contexts. For example, although the Western tea market generally classifies Cliff Tea and Tie Guanyin as oolong, I've heard many Chinese tea drinkers call these by their own names and consider oolong also something unique more limited in scope. Same thing with Pheonix Teas. The context that got me thinking about this was when I was asking questions about the origin of Cliff Tea and Pheonix Tea. I don't think that the tea producers from each region got together and decided what they were making was oolong, they more probably were just making tea that fit their geology, geography and culture. I propose this kind of lens because I think it may get us as tea drinkers closer to the tea and its origins and help us look past abstractions.
I'm not saying we should do away with our characteristic/processing based spectrum concept by any means. I'm just thinking this is an interesting point of discussion. Please feel free (or obligated) to comment ;)
NOAH
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Helping an Aged Oolong Touch Up his Stinky Navel
Old tea is great. But old tea can also be flat and muted, if not just straight gross. Specifically I'm talking about aged oolong. I think this may be the most misunderstood category of oolong tea because it demands either a skillful and attentive merchant or a capable drinker to maintain it, and the disconnect between the great tea lands and our humble tea community is still rather large.
This became obvious to me the other day when a wonderful tea friend (read: tea teacher) and FLT tea source-er brought in an aged mainland Tieguanyin. He lit a candle with an old teapot suspended over it like this (a) and placed a gaiwan lid over the top, like this (b).
My friend waited a few minutes and held the gaiwan lid to his nose. "Stinky!"
He handed it to me. The moisture that had been trapped in the leaves had started to evaporate and re-condense on the apex of the lid. I smelled it. YUCK! It smelled like a stinky navel. So that's what I'm drinking when I drink a long-stale aged oolong. This made the utility of touching up or re-roasting an aging tea very concrete to me. I don't want that stink in my tea! Gross!!
On top of removing stink, my own touching up experiment was more vibrant, clear and strong than when I've drunk it stale. I tried the other day on an aged Miao-li area oolong in the shop, and even the energy of the tea hit me hard and immediately, whereas that tea has always felt sleepy to me. The only problem with amateur roasting-touchups is the tea tends to get a drying feeling in the mouth that it wouldn't have otherwise. And the way I understand it, most of the time if you set it to rest after the touch-up it will go back to the way it was. "Locking in" a tea when touching it up, or roasting for any reason, is necessary for aging. Roasting is no easy skill, and locking in a tea so it remains relatively consistent takes direct experience, oral teaching, and a 'warehouse full of mistakes'. I hope one day I have enough tea to experiment like that, and eventually learn to lock in teas with a good roast. For now I'm just happy I could refresh a tea at all! Very rewarding session.
NOAH
This is the aged Miaoli Oolong that I was playing with.
Disclaimer: Here's a link to the Miaoli oolong I was experimenting with. I just want people to know I DO work for the company (FLT) selling that tea. I only work there part time and don't profit directly from any sales, but I am involved with and love the company. That being said, I work for her because I really respect what she's doing and love the tea she sells.
This became obvious to me the other day when a wonderful tea friend (read: tea teacher) and FLT tea source-er brought in an aged mainland Tieguanyin. He lit a candle with an old teapot suspended over it like this (a) and placed a gaiwan lid over the top, like this (b).
 |
| (a) |
 |
| (b) |
My friend waited a few minutes and held the gaiwan lid to his nose. "Stinky!"
He handed it to me. The moisture that had been trapped in the leaves had started to evaporate and re-condense on the apex of the lid. I smelled it. YUCK! It smelled like a stinky navel. So that's what I'm drinking when I drink a long-stale aged oolong. This made the utility of touching up or re-roasting an aging tea very concrete to me. I don't want that stink in my tea! Gross!!
On top of removing stink, my own touching up experiment was more vibrant, clear and strong than when I've drunk it stale. I tried the other day on an aged Miao-li area oolong in the shop, and even the energy of the tea hit me hard and immediately, whereas that tea has always felt sleepy to me. The only problem with amateur roasting-touchups is the tea tends to get a drying feeling in the mouth that it wouldn't have otherwise. And the way I understand it, most of the time if you set it to rest after the touch-up it will go back to the way it was. "Locking in" a tea when touching it up, or roasting for any reason, is necessary for aging. Roasting is no easy skill, and locking in a tea so it remains relatively consistent takes direct experience, oral teaching, and a 'warehouse full of mistakes'. I hope one day I have enough tea to experiment like that, and eventually learn to lock in teas with a good roast. For now I'm just happy I could refresh a tea at all! Very rewarding session.
NOAH
This is the aged Miaoli Oolong that I was playing with.
Disclaimer: Here's a link to the Miaoli oolong I was experimenting with. I just want people to know I DO work for the company (FLT) selling that tea. I only work there part time and don't profit directly from any sales, but I am involved with and love the company. That being said, I work for her because I really respect what she's doing and love the tea she sells.
Wednesday, November 23, 2016
Getting Back to the Throaty
A few weeks ago I wrote a post about reworking a gentle touch back into my tea brewing. In the subsequent sessions I've really enjoyed going back to teas which I thought I had figured out, and realizing that the tea has so much more to show me. It's such a great feeling when a new idea breaks through the barrier of a stagnant period! I've found that a little fresh spring water can really help out, too.
I revisited a tea which I've been having an off and on affair with for a few years now. I bought a jin (Chinese pound) at the time, and now I'm down to a little more than a quarter jin. And just as the tea has started to run low, I started my experiments with lower leaf amounts and felt that with these changed parameters (less leaf, more time) this tea is ALL ABOUT THE THROAT. As I'm sipping on it, although there is plenty of mouth illuminating salivation/stimulation, the first place I notice the tea is in my throat. It's like this tea is pointing deeper past my mouth, saying 'drink from here'. As always with Mr. Z's tea, the lingering aftereffects stay with me as long as I care to pay attention to them. And as always, there's a really clear, heavy energy that makes itself comfortable down around my belly button. But brewing this before, the mouthfeel was so strong (due to my heavy handed pot-stuffing) that the throatfeel suffered for it. For right now, I believe the tea is finally getting across what it wants to get across. At least it's a step in the right direction. Thank you so much, Farmer Z, for making a tea that has continued to teach me over the course of the two years I've owned it. Even a hardy tea can benefit from gentle treatment.
 |
| Mr. Z brewing Tea |
I revisited a tea which I've been having an off and on affair with for a few years now. I bought a jin (Chinese pound) at the time, and now I'm down to a little more than a quarter jin. And just as the tea has started to run low, I started my experiments with lower leaf amounts and felt that with these changed parameters (less leaf, more time) this tea is ALL ABOUT THE THROAT. As I'm sipping on it, although there is plenty of mouth illuminating salivation/stimulation, the first place I notice the tea is in my throat. It's like this tea is pointing deeper past my mouth, saying 'drink from here'. As always with Mr. Z's tea, the lingering aftereffects stay with me as long as I care to pay attention to them. And as always, there's a really clear, heavy energy that makes itself comfortable down around my belly button. But brewing this before, the mouthfeel was so strong (due to my heavy handed pot-stuffing) that the throatfeel suffered for it. For right now, I believe the tea is finally getting across what it wants to get across. At least it's a step in the right direction. Thank you so much, Farmer Z, for making a tea that has continued to teach me over the course of the two years I've owned it. Even a hardy tea can benefit from gentle treatment.
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
We are Tea Gatherers
It's true that I love to squirrel away my little jars and nubs of tea, but what I mean is tea can help us gather together. Everybody has their proverbial two cents today. And it's my personal scheduled blog posting day, at that!
I believe no matter which 'side' you were on during this drawn out and exhausting election season, re-integrating this divided/polarized society should be at the top of our agenda. Tea has helped me to come together with all sorts of people and have both fun and difficult discussions. Now more than ever, as tea people we should still extend a warm cup peacefully to bond with those that are close to us, but also to heal the wounds of division with people we don't agree with politically. I feel very blessed to have this community of tea people across the US and the rest of the world.
Gathering together is at the center of gong-fu cha. They say each person you drink a tea with, when you both really are feeling the tea, increases the wonderfulness of the tea tenfold. So let's promote tea-ism and use this plant soup to mend our community!
Your humble tea gatherer,
NOAH
PS Any readers who are in or coming through Seattle, contact me and we can share a tea in real spacetime. I want to extend a sincere invitation to all you good teafolk.
I believe no matter which 'side' you were on during this drawn out and exhausting election season, re-integrating this divided/polarized society should be at the top of our agenda. Tea has helped me to come together with all sorts of people and have both fun and difficult discussions. Now more than ever, as tea people we should still extend a warm cup peacefully to bond with those that are close to us, but also to heal the wounds of division with people we don't agree with politically. I feel very blessed to have this community of tea people across the US and the rest of the world.
 |
| photo cred: Nomadic Samuel |
Gathering together is at the center of gong-fu cha. They say each person you drink a tea with, when you both really are feeling the tea, increases the wonderfulness of the tea tenfold. So let's promote tea-ism and use this plant soup to mend our community!
Your humble tea gatherer,
NOAH
PS Any readers who are in or coming through Seattle, contact me and we can share a tea in real spacetime. I want to extend a sincere invitation to all you good teafolk.
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
Stay Entish! We are a Kind of Plant People
I had yet another moment this week in the tea shop where I peered deeper into the abyss of tea knowledge. It's times like these where I have to keep my novice cap on, and not let ego break up my good vibe. I hope this lesson can help my fellow tea steepers!
I have long been a proponent of pushing a tea as far as it can go. When brewing, I would try to put more leaf, and let the tea steep longer, pushing it just to where it's about to break into an unbearable strength. I enjoy sessions where I have to fight with the tea a little bit. And I envy the hefty tongues of Chaozhou brew-monsters.
But if you're always fighting with a tea from the get go, you might not ever see what the tea is 'trying to show you'. After manhandling the tea version of a wise old grandma, my tea friend gently brought me down a few pegs. She said that there's a reason tea buyers in Taiwan will test teas by steeping small amounts of leaf in a big bowl for 15 minutes or more. They want to let the tea completely open up. It's not going to be the most enjoyable session with that tea, but you can really get a feel for its potential that way. Following this train of thought, when trying out a new tea in a gaiwan or small pot it can be handy to be gentle, put less leaf, and let the concoction to set for more time.
Metaphorically, when you come in contact with an old grandma, you should let her relax for awhile, and resist the urge to demand all her wise stories in one sitting. She won't be sharing any good stories with a hasty dumb-dumb.
NOAH
I have long been a proponent of pushing a tea as far as it can go. When brewing, I would try to put more leaf, and let the tea steep longer, pushing it just to where it's about to break into an unbearable strength. I enjoy sessions where I have to fight with the tea a little bit. And I envy the hefty tongues of Chaozhou brew-monsters.
 |
| "Do not let us be hasty" |
But if you're always fighting with a tea from the get go, you might not ever see what the tea is 'trying to show you'. After manhandling the tea version of a wise old grandma, my tea friend gently brought me down a few pegs. She said that there's a reason tea buyers in Taiwan will test teas by steeping small amounts of leaf in a big bowl for 15 minutes or more. They want to let the tea completely open up. It's not going to be the most enjoyable session with that tea, but you can really get a feel for its potential that way. Following this train of thought, when trying out a new tea in a gaiwan or small pot it can be handy to be gentle, put less leaf, and let the concoction to set for more time.
Metaphorically, when you come in contact with an old grandma, you should let her relax for awhile, and resist the urge to demand all her wise stories in one sitting. She won't be sharing any good stories with a hasty dumb-dumb.
NOAH
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)