2010 Yunzhiyuan "Yibang"

On the spectrum of cakes from Yunnan Sourcing this year, this Yibang must be jostling with the Xikong and Wangongzhai up at the good end - but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

"Yibang" (small characters), "Yiwu" (large characters), "guhua" (red characters)

As shown above, this is part of Scott's "guhua" range, a euphemism for autumnal tea.  As with the rest, it is a $40 cake, of 2/3rds the normal size (at 250g), making this $60 for an equivalent 375g bing.  These little cakes are amenable to collecting for the purposes of tasting, which is something that I rather like.  There simply isn't enough shelf space in our house to collect cakes without limit; those I buy in tong+ quantity are those that I have concluded are safe bets for aging.  The little cakes, such as these and the tasters from Zhimingdu, are easy to slide into the gaps between tong.  

(I recall that the brave Phyll Sheng used to hire "cellar" space at a wine-storage depot in order to keep his cakes, but that would be a step too far for me!)

Like the Xikong, this is a xiaoye [little leaf] varietal, from out in Mengla County of Xishuangbanna.  However, the leaves don't seem all that tiny, as you might be able to tell from the above - they represent the larger end of the xiaoye scale. 

Easily separated, you can see from the image above that the leaves have been well-handled during their stay in Yunnan.  Scott has selected a suitably furry, good-looking collection of leaves for this cake, and they have the sweet, granary scent about them that I observed in the Xikong.

When introduced to water, the scent in the aroma cup reveals a heavy sweetness, and a pronounced liveliness - it tingles the nose, and gives hope that these are fresh leaves left in a natural, underprocessed state.

This tea really is lively - it tingles the tip of the tongue in a delightful, almost effervescent, manner.  A buttery finish reminds me of the fact that humans have been involved in the presentation of this tea to at least some minimal degree.

Powering through the infusions, this Yibang cake develops into a positively mouth-numbing experience.  It is anaesthetic.  This sounds unpleasant, but it is rather good.

While the Xikong may have been heavier, with denser characteristics of flavour and huigan, this cake is significantly more active, while staying within what I refer to as the "sweet granary" genre of that region - which may be a description of use only to myself.  

I juggle my affections between this Yibang, the Xikong, and the Wangongzhai, and contemplate buying one of each, to revisit for fun in later years.

Sleeper Train

I share my bed

on the sleeper train to Beijing

with her guzheng

2009 and 2010 Yunzhiyuan "Dingjiazhai"

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I give you the Dingjiazhai [ding jia djai] from Yunnan Sourcing.

This village is close to Yiwu, and so we should expect decidedly orthodox Yiwu behaviour.  The lovely old 2009 wrapper is shown above, while the more spartan, "classical" 2010 wrapper is shown below.  The remainder of the photographs in this article are from the later version of the cake, which was seemingly bought from the same farmers as the 2009 version - both are similar.

Both 2009 and 2010 cakes are comprised of leaves that I couldn't really tell apart: they are long, as shown below, and have a sharp sweetness that belies their autumnal picking.

The 2009 seemed a little watery, in both character and colour, and requires more leaves than the 2010 in order to provide a solid brew.  This is something of a surprise, because one might expect it to be the other way around, given the drought that ravaged the pu'ercha crop of 2010.

The 2009 has that charming straw-like character that I sometimes think of as a sub-type of the general Yiwu sweetness.  It is a class of character that reminds me of the celebrated 2006 Xingshunxiang cake (celebrated by me, that is).  If pressed, I would try to describe this straw-like nature as being a pleasant, vegetal sourness, which I rather like.  It isn't the tangy, "off-brown" sourness of rough tea.

The 2010 shares that straw-like character, but it is more of a background note - perhaps this is the effect of the drought, if any effect there were.

However, this pair of Dingjiazhai aren't up to my old (and decidedly inexpensive) Xingshunxiang friend in terms of overall appeal.

Later infusions bring out a definite sweetness in both cakes, though the 2009 never quite shakes that empty, "loose", watery feeling.  Both cakes are lightly cooling in the mouth, perhaps testifying to the quality of leaves that Scott has selected.

These are decent cakes.  The 2009 edges towards an abrasive roughness in the mouth, which the 2010 avoids, but they are otherwise fairly similar.  Their potency is very decent, and it is entirely possible that this could cause them to improve with age.

That said, given the choice between these cakes and, let's say, the Yiwu "Wangongzhai", there isn't much of a comparison in terms of quality.  The latter is excellent; these Dingjiazhai cakes are merely "good".  Ordinarily, that could be enough for a tea merchant to be pleased - here, Scott has spoiled us with better cakes costing around the same amount, and so I feel that there is little reason to explore these past a sample to broaden the palate.

The remainders of my samples go into my next correspondent's "sample package"...