2011 Yunzhiyuan "Wuliang"

Here's a good one.

Wuliangshan is proper Simao prefecture tea, the region to the north of Xishuangbanna.  Scott of Yunnan Sourcing, whence cometh this might cake, has provided plenty of background data.  Background data make people like me happy.

The leaves come from Zhongcangzhai [djong tsang djai], in Jingdong county, which is up in the northern-most region of Simao, where it borders both Lincang prefecture to the west and Dali prefecture (home of Xiaguan) to the north.  Scott writes that these trees are some 200 years old, growing on ridges and slopes.  He then notes that its altitude of 2.3 km makes "this some of the highest-altitude pu'erh in existance".

Perhaps best of all, the area is exceedingly remote, far off the beaten track, and so the price of maocha is low.  Scott sells this for an entirely reasonable $20/bing, which is much more like Maliandao price than Western price.

The leaves, shown above, are quite small.  They are also dark and fruity in their aroma, and seem lively.

The soup is yellow with, dare I say it, a hint of a brown hue that always reminds me of Simao, and sometimes Lincang, tea.  It's a strange thing to write, but there you have it.

The qualities of this cake are obvious from the wenxiangbei [aroma cup], which has a low, savoury base that correlates with the colour of the soup.  This lowness slowly, gradually becomes a heavy sweetness.  It has real mass.

This tea is mighty fine, and a true pleasure to drink: it has a tangy kuwei [good bitterness], and a broad, heavy tobacco - but not the heavy blackness of cheekily-processed modern Xiaguan; rather, this is the dark tobacco of seriously savoury leaves.  It's precisely my cup of tea.

Throughout it all comes  long sweetness, that lingers admirably and causes the mouth to water.  Some grassy notes, some butter from the wok, but mostly just big, fat tobacco richness with sweetness atop.

This is $20?  I consider buying a tong even after the first infusion.  Even while the tetsubin boils up water for the next infusion, my mouth revels in the huigan from the previous cup, such is its duration.

Frighteningly good tea.  Be warned that it is highly atuned to my own preferences; if you don't share a love of potent, dark, low teas, this might not work out for you.  If you enjoy such things, consider getting yourself a sample and let us know how you get on.

I drank this tea last thing before leaving for Beijing, and it stayed with me as a potent comparator throughout my time in Maliandao this year.  Plenty of (modern) cakes that I tried around Maliandao weren't up to this standard.