2008 Menghai "Dajingdian"

I've been getting back to the classic producers recently - though there have been some good counter-examples from new factories. As part of my re-acquaintance with Menghai, today's article on the 2008 "Great Classic".

I can't remember where I read about this one, but I bought it on the recommendation of a post somewhere! I was after something a little more unusual that the benchmark, numbered blends, and this cake fit the bill. Menghai claim that it was made in order to commemorate the selection of the Dayi brand as "national cultural heritage". Amusing though the notion of being awarded a label of heritage may be, it's applicable enough in this case. Something inside me winces whenever the Chinese government discusses heritage, given its previous stance to "the four olds" (a list that includes customs and culture), but at least they appear to be on the right track lately.

As I'm sure you know, Menghai have started using seals to close the backs of their wrappers these days (pictured below). These things are a pain, as it becomes very easy to tear the paper.

Once the security measures are carefully circumnavigated, the bing (below) is attractive: solid in compression with a homogenous blend of small leaves, which are around "grade 3". Menghai cakes look and feel hearty - and they're easy to separate without being too loose.

Opening the wrapper throws an aggressive scent of young, green leaves into the far corners of the room, beneath which is a slower undercurrent of deep sweetness that suggests this cake has much to give.

The leaves are quite dark for a 2008, and the description tells us that they are "semi-aged", presumably meaning that older maocha was used.

Pictured below, with our constant calorific companion, the yellow-orange soup that turns deeper orange as it contacts the air. It does so quite rapidly, giving the impression of being active.

The kougan [mouth-feel] is thick indeed, as noted in the product description, and it has a rich mushroom character that reminds me of classic Menghai cakes. A rapid huigan [sweet aftertaste] builds quickly, in concert with an aroma of wild flowers in the nose: sweet, rough, floral. Beneath it all, the bedrock of sweetness that holds my attention.

This is a solid, complex little tea. Menghai have a habit of being able to produce good things at a low cost, making them very hard to beat, and keeping the industry's feet on the ground. It has plenty of potency, and running from the dry leaf to the final sip, that mushroom Menghai sweetness that continues to please.

I've added a few more of these cakes to our shelves to see how they do - they've got quite a bit of content, and some good legs, so we'll see what happens. However, given the enjoyment I had from these tasting sessions, they might not last too long.

---

Addendum
April, 2013

I bought these cakes for around $10-15 in 2008, and have not tried them since.  The price was higher than the Taobao equivalent as I bought them from Yunnan Sourcing.  The current Taobao price is around 100-150 RMB, which approximately represents a doubling in the past five years.  They are, however, inexpensive to this day.  Scott of YS sells this for around $30.
 

My stacks do have a good scent, which is encouraging.

The leaves, always small and dark, have become darker, as shown below.

The scent in the wenxiangbei [aroma cup] is the huge, old-fashioned aroma of Menghai mushroom, which lasts forever.  I am reminded of the reliable quality of this old brand - even its fairly basic cakes, such as this.

The blend is quite proper, and has a deep, dense sweetness with a lovely kuwei [good bitterness].  I appreciate its resonating shengjin [mouth-watering].  Sweet straw, mushrooms - it is instantly recognisable and very welcome.  Its texture retains the thickness of its youth.

Storage here in Oxford has been kind: it has the clean, aged sweetness of some of my older cakes.  It is not aging rapidly, but I am in no hurry.  Overtones of an old cake are beginning to show, but it is challenging and charming in its current form.  The power of its youth, which I somehow remember after five years, has consolidated into this density of sweetness.

It is only Dayi, but it is so definitely "classical" that I am enthralled.  It tastes just like old tea, young.