Wistful Thinking

$168 seems like a good price for 1997 "Hongyin" [red mark].  Such was the price when this cake was available at Chawangshop, available no more.  Perhaps it is this unavailability that makes it even more desirable.  It is out of reach, and I am its Tantalus.

This cake has had some storage in Malaysia, it is whispered among those who know about such things.  The first infusion, predictably enough, is a delicious red-brown.  The scent is, in accordance with scripture, humid.

The size of the sample was not enormous, as pictured above, and yet it completely dominates the teapot as if it were a tea twice its quantity.  CNNP / Menghai, back in the day, had access to some seriously serious seriousness.  This cake reminds me of how older tea should be: strong, well-developed, unambiguously saturated in sheer trouser.  It is a bold tea and no mistake.

The tea endures long with its huigan [return sweetness], and has such a strong body that I am instantly, and continuously, impressed.  The Malaysian storage has been well executed: there is a complementary mineral tone, but it is not all-consuming.  It is like unto latter-day albums from Sepultura.  We know Max Cavalera (the original force behind the band, long since departed for Soulfy and Cavalera Conspiracy) left behind a legacy from which even the modern post-Cavalera outfit benefits: this CNNP cake, though a product of more recent times, harks back to a golden age of straightforward and uncompromising strength.  Perhaps unsurprisingly, this cake goes rather well with some of the more recent Sep albums; The Mediator Between Head and Hands Must be the Heart performs just as well as Roots, with this tea. I had time to try both, such was the longevity of this cake.

At the very end, it begins to get a little thin, but who can stand up to not one but two Sep albums, back-to-back?  Surely there are few teas that can pass such a difficult test.

With thanks to The Jakub for the sample.