Big (and Fake?) Dayi

I am, perhaps like a lot of people, rather keen on the better Dayi cakes and their proven record when it comes to aging.  They range from the simple-but-excellent to complex-and-excellent, and are one of the few near-certainties in the highly uncertain world of pu'ercha.  Dayi special productions (although not the regular recipes) are currently the subject of market speculation, resulting in crazy price-rises for those particular cakes.  It is a very localised form of asset bubble.

While not a "special", the Dayi 501 (pictured below) is very good and well worth a look.  Apache and I have tried, and failed, to find much available in the way of 501, having to settle for 502 instead.

This article concerns an alleged sample of 501, which turned out to be anything but.

Apache noted that the wrapped of the 501 potentially-fake tuocha that he bought had been opened, and that there was no neifei - hence his concerns.

The leaves look good, being large and reasonably dark, although they are obvious red with respect to the genuine darkness of actual 501.

The rinse has a suspicious brown-yellow colour, which only becomes orange when there is sufficient quantity of soup in the gongdaobei [fairness cup] to mask its original appearance.

Its flavour is classically fake: it is not potent (where it should be, given the strength of 501), but the aging process has given it a simple, mellow warmth.  There is no pine-like charm, no huigan [returning sweetness], no Dayi character, just gradual maltiness with a calm sweetness.

The tang in the mouth has the curious character of lingering chemicals, not the cooling vibrancy of real tea.  I abandon it immediately, and will clean the pot carefully.  Silly me - I should have used a glazed gaiwan.

---

The 2007 "Anxiang" is textbook speculation.

Pictured above is the shupu version; the shengpu version is a different colour.

"Anxiang" refers to a dark, mellow, and light scent.  I remember one of the few classical poems that I actually know in Chinese, and hazard a guess.  "Yes, that is where it comes from!" says my dear wife, as surprised as I am.  The name of this cake is sometimes rendered as "secret fragrance", which isn't quite right.

This cake started out at around £30, and is currently topping a rather pointless £100.

The leaves, pictured above, are tiny and dark, with the faintest of scents.  Added to the damp, warm pot, they reveal an aroma of dark, dried fruit.

I am greeted with a proper scent, heavy and sweet.  As you can see from the above, the soup is a rich orange.  This is good Dayi: it is clean, smooth, silken in texture, cooling, and has good kuwei.  It is dense, fun, and has just the right degree of challenge to be appealing, and to suggest that its best is yet to come.

I was impressed by the Anxiang, but it needs a lot of leaves to get the most out of it.  The cooling kuwei even corresponds to a vivid feeling on the lips, which is quite unexpected for a Dayi cake.

While this is very solid and enjoyable tea, it needs to be bought at its original price rather than the inflated new price, I suspect.  Certainly, I would not feel comfortable buying it at £100 - I remember looking at these cakes in 2007 when they were produced, and cannot imagine paying so much for them.

There are, after all, plenty more Dayi fish in the sea.  The teasphere tends to get a bit over-fixated on certain cakes.

Shown above, the fake 501 and the 2007 Anxiang.  I leave it as an exercise, Gentle Reader, to determine which is which.