Irreverence, or "1999 Menghai Big Green Tree"

"If you meet the Buddha, you must kill him."

Blasphemy? Not at all, for this is a famous saying in Zen. The irreverence of Zen is something to be cherished. Like most Zen koans [aphorisms/riddles], for all its apparent absurdity, this one has many practical truths within, layered like an irritating cocktail onion.

I'm only qualified to discuss its most superficial meaning and will leave deeper exposition to the venerable monks in my readership (!). For today, "If you meet the Buddha, you must kill him" I will take to refer to independent observation, uncoloured by the opinions of others.

In the Kalama Sutra (I love squid), Buddha himself is said to have told his followers to accept only that which they can verify by personal practice and experience. Not the voices of teachers, authorities, or authors - just personal verification.

Spending a morning (and over two litres of good water) with the 1999 Menghai "Big Green Tree", I spent some time thinking about "killing the Buddha".

Spring is with us. You can almost track the seasons by the photographs of the colourful displays that my wife so kindly arranges for our tea-table. That said, it's snowing outside, and the nearby Angel-and-Greyhound meadow is currently underwater from another flood...

Every article I have read on the subject of the 1999 Menghai "Big Green Tree" ["Da Lu Shu"] praises it in the highest: a landmark in tea-storage, a seminal classic, a benchmark.

On examining the leaves of this prestigious cake, based on reputation alone, I anticipated the distant sound of celestial harps. Choirs of seraphim. The fabled impromptu xylophonic stylings of St. Michael the archangel.

No harps yet. Dark leaves, large but fragmented, with a gentle sweetness. No halo, no lotus flowers blooming in its footsteps.

As can be seen in the flowery photograph above (and below), this brews a solid orange soup, which has a particularly splendid vibrancy in the mouth, and an equally robust huigan, brought about by some well-balanced acidity.

Ready for $400 (?!) worth of fireworks, I was surprised (based on its reputation) to find that this was comparable to many other far less expensive teas. Certainly, it is well-stored, but in its friendly sandalwood-and-camphor flavours there isn't much of an extraordinary nature.

By the sixth infusion, it had polarised into generic sweetness vs. robust huigan. By the fifteen infusion, it was peach-coloured sweet water (but well done for getting that far, I must say).

Definitely no harps.

This is an excellent tea with which to "kill the Buddha". History, yes. Landmark in the tradition of processing, maybe. Awesome tea: that's less obvious.

It is easy to be swayed by tea-writers. We're a passionate bunch, and, occasionally, give the entirely misleading impression that we know what we're talking about.

In everything, least of all tea, don't accept anything without personal verification - this article included. As Brad Warner says in the excellent Hardcore Zen, "question everything, including yourself".

Start with the 1999 Menghai "Big Green Tree".

(This was the "classic" blue/black-labelled version of Dalushu, for all you Dalushu fans out there.)