Wojciech Bońkowski
Master of Wine

Tea and chocolate

An exercise matching tea and chocolate. Can this work at all? Isn’t chocolate too powerful to have with tea? I try some artisanal chocolate pralines with green, oolong, black and puer tea.

Tea on the move

How to brew decent tea while travelling? Without access to infinite tea supply from your own tea cabinet and 25 brewing utensils. The answers are: keep it simple; carry your own tea; choose a tea that will perform well in less-than-perfect circumstances.

2008 Fenghuang Winter Hungshui

I feel a little strange after my recent Japanese green tea overdose (see this link for a list of related posts). When perceiving the ‘outside world’ with our senses, we all benefit from temporary specialisation. If you drink one Chablis amidst a diet of California Zinfandels, chances are you won’t like it or appreciate it. If, however, you travel to Chablis to taste the local wines for a week, you become much more aware of the nuances that differentiate the various Chablis. The same goes for music. If you’re due to write an essay on the operas of Wagner, you’d better do a bit of listening before that. It’s good to have that individual style well ‘in your ear’.

But there’s another aspect to that. Overdo that Wagner listening, and all his operas will seem like one repetitive ramble. After two weeks of drinking only Japanese shincha three or four times a day, I didn’t feel like having more, and all those notes of green fruit and mild astringency on the palate really didn’t make much difference. So it’s good to switch to something different after a while. Yet the first sips of that ‘different’ tea (wine, food, music) always seem strange. Everything’s out of sync. The mouthfeel is not what it’s supposed to be. Even a tea’s colour can seem anomalous.
 

This 2008 Winter Fenghuang Hungshui oolong is a sample courtesy of Stéphane Erler of Tea Masters (merci!). In many ways it’s the perfect antidote to a Japanese overdose, yet it took me two sessions to really acknowledge its quality and personality to the full.

The Tea Masters website has a comprehensive description of this tea. Tea vendors’ websites and product descriptions can dangerously degenerate into repetitive marketing ramble but Tea Masters are (in my opinion) a notable exception. Their tasting notes are universally well-written and to the point.

Hungshui is a traditional term for a high mountain rolled oolong from Central Taiwan, produced with ‘traditional’ roast (i.e., higher than most modern Taiwanese mountain oolongs). As all tea terms it is approximate: with this specific 2008 Fenghuang, it is at most a medium roast, lower than I remember from Tea Masters’ 2008 Spring Dongding produced from exactly the same area. But (typically for a winter harvest) the fruity and flowery aromas of this tea are also quite subdued, making this medium roast a sensible choice: it doesn’t overpower the natural expression but is present throughout in the profile. You see it clearly in the xiangbei [‘aroma cup’] where there is a very interesting progression: starting with fumé, toasted-woody smells through cereals, then chocolate and caramel, going back to woodsy, herby, toasted, baked-bready scents. Hmm, interesting… I spend a few minutes smelling the aroma cup alone.

Infusions no. 1 (45 seconds, left) and 2 (25 seconds, right).
Brewed in: gaiwan
Dosage: 2.5g / 120ml
Tasting notes:
45s: Leaves are slow to open and the first infusion is a pale apricot-mauve in colour. This has retained some good fruit underneath the roast, with a subdued but fascinating retronasal perfume mixing red fruits (raspberries?) with almonds, almost like a Dancong. Length is good, though this brew is obviously rather light – if you’d like a proper gongfu brewing session I recommend dosing more like 5–6g (though see below). Texturally an interesting combination of butter and toasted grain. A noble, satisfying tea.
25s: Deeper colour and a bit more intensity but the whole register is unchanged. This tea seems like a great pearl-white canvas on which only time will paint a colourful picture. A bit more butter and less toast now; a touch less fruity too. Now this is tasting very mountain oolong-like, with restraint and noblesse: whispers not utterances of texture and flavour.
40s: A deeper apricotty-beige colour (finally). Aroma still centered on roast. However more sweetness on the long huigan finish. Losing some of it grainey personality in favour of a more intense (if still shy) fruit.

This tea is a masterpiece of roast if there ever was one. It’s roasted to the millisecond and millidegree of temperature. At no moment does it show that bitterish astringency of excessive roast, nor the shallow buttery vagueness of insufficient one. The natural tea leaf flavours are perfectly combined with the delicate roasted notes. Stéphane mentions this tea was roasted by an old master, now retired, and it really shows: it’s a study in effortless, self-effacing craftsmanship.

Be warned: it’s a really delicate, low-key tea. Even following Stéphane’s advice (which I found very sound: this tea has little to gain from a tough-headed gongfu progression) of infusing little leaf for long times, the intensity is never very high, and it’s all about nuances. But what nuances! I’m now healed from the Japanese overdose, and for 32€ / 100g, I’ll be sure to order more to see how this tea can age.
These leaves are very slow to open…

1976 Baozhong

1 year = 1 minute?
After my entry on the gargantuan anniversary wine tasting it’s time to report on the tea that was served. I’m sure all tea lovers know the headache: how do you serve tea to a party of 10? Unless people are interested in seeing a proper tea session (not here), it’s practical to make a single large pot of tea.

But in my case, the tea had to be special. With so many old wine vintages being poured, I wanted a tea with several decades on it. Old puer was best avoided, though, as the taste could be challenging to some diners. So I went for this 1976 Baozhong from Tea Masters (see description here; the tea is out of stock at the moment, although Stéphane says it might be available again in the autumn).


I tasted this tea several times upon arrival in November 2008, with the usual gongfu procedure of high dosage (4–5g / 150ml) and short infusions, both in porcelain gaiwan and yixing pots. While an obviously good tea, it left be a bit underwhelmed. The leaves are of a very good grade and quality (there’s very little breakage) as you can see on the photo above. This tea has been roasted to a medium-high degree (likely several times) with obvious skill: the roasted notes are well integrated into the whole. But the aromas are unremarkable, dominated by prunes and roast, and somewhat short-lived in the aroma cup. On the palate, it’s balanced and rather smooth but offers little complexity. In subsequent infusions there’s a pleasurable firmness on the finish from the roast, but not a lot of mid-palate presence and the flavours are again rather vague. It’s a comfortable but rather absent-minded tea and my notes say ‘forgettable’.

Last week’s anniversary dinner was an eye-opener for this Baozhong, after circumstances forced me to change my brewing style. To accommodate so many people, I had to choose a really large pot. My choice went for this glass pot which contains roughly a liter:

It’s the equivalent of what is called ‘glass brewing’ or ‘bowl brewing’ (see discussions here, here, and a variation here). You use, in proportion, very little leaf (I used 8g for a liter of water! I often put as much puer into a 120ml clay pot) but very long infusion times. You get only one brew that will obviously be lighter in body than a gongfu infusion, but not necessarily in flavour: the long infusion concentrates the extraction and you get a kind of summary of your tea, instead of fractioning its aromas into a progression in time (as you do in gongfu when a series of different-tasting infusions follow one another).
The surprise with this Baozhong was how much time was needed to get the best results. 10 minutes was really too little! It’s best after around 20. And I got similar results with a much smaller glass pot (150 ml – then only using 1g of leaf). After such a long steeping, we get a lovely ruby-brown colour and a delightfully rich aroma. Roast is now very much in the background, as the lighter, fruitier aromas have developed: dried prunes, candied cherries, dried apricots, dark honey, a hint of bitter chocolate. Taste-wise, there is a bit of the tannic dryness I observed in gongfucha, but the texture is totally different: there is a lot more sweetness from the dried red fruit notes, and overtones of Christmas spices.
Looking at the wet leaves, it’s no surprise this tea is so good. The roast has been really virtuosic as many leaves are still dark green in colour (have a closer look at the twisted leaf to the far right of the photo below). And for their age, they are really impressively intact. On top of it, it’s a really inexpensive tea for its age (40€ / 100g). Dear Stéphane, I truly hope you can source some more!

 

2009 Lushan Jinxuan

Tea with milk??
I have just received this package of samples from Stéphane Erler of Tea Masters (thank you!). The opportunity to taste some new teas is always exciting; this one even more so, as the package includes some rare old puer and oolong (more one these soon), and my first taste of this new season’s tea.

This 2009 Lushan Jinxuan is an interesting variation on Taiwan’s classic high altitude rolled green oolong. The variation lies in the varietal: jinxuan. Most of the renowned gaoshan (high-mountain) oolongs are made from the traditional qingxin tea cultivar. However, due to the latter’s low yield and disease resistance, a number of new cultivars have been developed over the recent decades. These are so rarely featured in a tea’s name or descriptor that tea drinkers remain mostly unfamiliar with them, and jinxuan, sijichun or cuiyu can only dream of enjoying the recognisability of syrah, merlot or tempranillo.

Jinxuan (a.k.a. as Taiwan No. 12) is one such variety of tea tree, and apart from good productivity it is known for its creamy or milk-like aroma. This is as much a blessing as a curse, as many unscrupulous producers of lower-end oolong simply boost this subtle natural aroma with artificial flavouring. The result, sold as ‘Milk Oolong’, can be so utterly repulsive I have pretty much lost any confidence in jinxuan altogether. I thank Stéphane all the more, therefore, for having sent this very enjoyable sample.

Brewed: competition style (2g / 100ml / 5 minutes)
Leaf: These tea pellets look just like any gaoshan but are really rather large: I reached the required 2g with just 12 leaves (see photo at the bottom of post). These leaves are also quite thin, resulting in a fair bit of bruising and other damage. Colour is a consistent dark green. A pleasant leafy smell to the wet leaves, like walking in a garden after a spring or early summer rain.
Tasting notes:
Infusion colour is rather light. A fine scent, vegetal, leafy, mildly sweet perhaps, with the ‘milky’ association really kept more allusive than upfront (what a relief after the low-end, artificially-flavoured examples). A comfortable mouthfeel for this classic-styled tea that in fact reminded me of continental Chinese teas such as Tiekuanyin or Maoxie. Limited sweetness, this hints at boiled vegetables on the reasonably long finish which is enlivened by some dryness. I don’t get any milk notes here.
Another session in gaiwan (4g / 120ml) showed a slightly more pronounced dairy aroma reminiscent of clotted cream perhaps. There is also a distinctive florality that is different from the lily & orchid register of qingxin: this is less exotic, leafier, perhaps tulip-like. With short gongfu-style brewings (30s, 40s etc.) the register and intensity are quite pale, though, and Stéphane is right in his description that this should ideally be infused for longer times.

All in all this an enjoyable tea with a very subtle, unobtrusive ‘milky’ aroma. But it also shows why the jinxuan variety doesn’t have the pedigree of qingxin: this tea just lacks the structure, depth and finesse of the latter.

2g of leaf after 5 minutes of infusion.

2008 Spring Luanze

A springtime delight

High mountain (gaoshan) oolong from Central Taiwan is one of the world’s best teas, and Shan Lin Shi is one of the most famous appellations (origins) here. No wonder, therefore, that leading Taiwan tea internet specialist Tea Masters are offering no less than a dozen varieties from each vintage including six from Shan Lin Shi alone, at the time of writing.

As the spring is here and I am waiting to place an order for 2009 oolongs, I am slowly finishing my sample of the 2008 Shan Lin Shi Spring Luanze. As most of the top gaoshan oolongs, this is made from the qingxin tea cultivar, also known as luanze (and identified as such on the Tea Masters catalogue). There will be experts around to explain it fully but the reason why qingxin is preferred to other tea cultivars (such as jianxuan or the most widespread sijichun) is the inimitable buttery mouthfeel it gives, along with good ageing potential for the more roasted types.

See here for background about this tea, which was picked on 30th April 2008 at 1650 meters of altitude and underwent no roast; the oxidation is also rather low, giving a tea that’s close to a green in aroma and lightness, but showing a bit more substance and sturdiness than most green teas.

Price: 28 € / 100g (and worth every penny)
Brewed in: gaiwan
Dosage: 4 g / 120ml
Leaf: Appearance is the usual tightly rolled green leaf with a bit of stem attached. Dry leaf aroma is clean and very pleasant, reminiscent of the leaves and petals of first spring flowers (tulips perhaps).

Brewing #1 (30 seconds).

Tasting notes:
30s: The aroma is surprising for a gaoshan in being only vaguely floral, and quite vegetal-leafy. Flavour is again less floral than many teas of this style: mild, soft, light, with only a bit of dryness on end. As it cools down there is quite an inviting velvety texture and an understated, clean, satisfying vegetal taste.
30s: Seems denser in texture and flavour, with some grainy, mealy notes adding to the vegetality.
30s: Now a little lighter, no floweriness at all, and some grip on the finish. In fact this is going along the lines of brewing #2 in showing a touch of roast perhaps (?? Tea Masters are indicating there is none): against many featherlight and unsubstantial renditions of Shan Lin Shi, this tea has guts, and has in fact survived the 360 days of ageing more than well. Altogether a highly satisfying version of its appellation. Stay tuned for tasting notes of other SLS types offered by Tea Masters.

2008 Bailu

Proud white crane

Taiwan produces so much good oolong that one intuitively forgets about other types of tea from this island. Baihao, Baozhong, Gaoshan (plus the large reserves of aged puer) are enough to keep you running for years of tea drinking.

Within a recent order from Taiwanese specialist Tea Masters, though, I ordered a small pack of a local green tea. Taiwan produces several types: Biluochun is common (an emulation of the Chinese classic from Jiangsu), as well as some greens from the qingxin tea cultivar (widely used in Taiwanese mountain oolongs). This tea, the 2008 Bailu, is made from a recently developed cultivar with the irresistibly romantic name of No. 17, also know as Bailu, meaning white crane.

Brewed in: gaiwan
Dosage: 3.5g / 100ml
Dry leaf: A nice looking tea, with about 20% furry tips, and lots of bright green leaves alongside the more usual dark greens. Smells of summer meadow and toasted bread.
Wet leaf: Impressive quality, with no damage to the carefully selected leaves. They take quite a number of brewings to fully open. I remain impressed by the consistently high quality of the Tea Masters selections. Tasting notes:
60s: A very pale, white-coloured infusion. I find
Stéphane’s description of this tea quite spot-on. Nose at first is dominated by citrusy, grapefruity notes, later calming down into vaguer but nonetheless pleasant ‘green tea’ aromas. Flavour is a bit different, mildly grainy, with good length but not enormous intensity.
60s: I like to boost this slightly by brewing in hotter water than I normally would a green tea: there is more citrusy intensity and spritz. At mid-palate it lacks a bit of body and oomph but this is a frequent impression with green tea.
5m with boiling water: Finally some astringency appearing but not distorting the natural expression, and still fairly drinkable.
3m: Still pretty flavourful and good, this tea can go quite far.

Overall this tea has quite a distinctive, grapefruity profile that I find quite unvegetal for a green tea. Original, enjoyable and fairly priced (22€ / 100g).

2008 Baozhong ‘Fleur de Lys’

Lilies galore

This is one of several Taiwanese Baozhong teas available from Tea Masters, where you can find extensive first-hand information on its background. (Please note that Stéphane offers a première qualité and a qualité supérieure; this is the former, more expensive @ 18 € for 100g). The following is a synopsis of several recent tastings.

Brewed in: gaiwan

Dosage: 5g / 150ml
Dry leaf: Large and delicate, with a luxuriant mixture of green shades. A pleasant if slightly dry-hayey aroma.

Wet leaf: Consistently large and healthy-looking but showing a bit more oxidation round the edges than I expected.
30s @ 90C: First impressions are very positive, with a wonderfully intense floral nose of white lilies and peonies. Palate shows a degree of depth. Not a lot of body, this is very typical of a green oolong and is showing rather light really.

40s with boiling water: Interesting how the register shifts towards pink lilies and other dark flowers; there is also a minor impression of leaf burn so I recommend cooling the water just a bit.

45s: Quite less aromatic and intense but flavour on palate is very good, perhaps a little fuller and more harmonious than brewings #1–2.
Later brewings are weaker, calm, with less personality, so I recommend keeping them rather long. While not unenjoyable I much prefer the first three.

Being a declared Baozhong lover I was very keen on trying this, and as usually with Tea Masters was certainly not disappointed. However it needs to be said that this is quite a light-bodied and airy tea, and probably best kept for the warmer season (or lighter moods). If looking for a bit more content in your Baozhong you can always choose Tea Masters’ Forêt Subtropicale (to be reviewed here soon).

Sub –15C, the poor pheasants sleep on the trees. Not quite the season for this light tea…