2010 Sanhetang - Xizihao "Laowushan"

The days of frenetic Xizihao excitement may be long past, but they still retain a place in my affections.  The 2010 Xizihao "Manning", however, does not.  Even my mother found it to be bland.  

Everyone deserves a second chance, and so I (eventually) return to consider the second of the 2010 Xizihao cakes sold by Houde.

Houde makes pretty bags, does it not?

This cake is a tidy $95, and is a Simao cake, approximately from the Jinggu region.  My love for cakes from the region has been often described in these humble pages, and so I will avoid repetition.  Hopes are high, suffice to say.

Observe the human hair, sticking vertically upwards!

Even looking at the photograph of the leaves, some time after actually drinking the tea, reminds me just how lovely this cake looks.  The blend is rugged and robust (read: containing everything except the kitchen sink), which can be a good sign for the tea.  In the hands of the charming chap that runs Xizihao, I expect good things.

Straight away, the differences from its sub-standard "Manning" cousin are obvious: this tea pours a bright yellow, whereas the Manning was more orange.  As shown below, it looks rather appealing, and appears suitably active, such that it gradually darkens as the action of the air works upon it.

A plucky yellow brew indicates its clean, "honest" status

This is a vibrant and pleasant mixture of fruity, sweet "top notes", with a husky, savoury base befitting of its Simao origins.  It sits nicely in the mouth, keeping my attention with some decent gushu [ancient tree] characteristics: vibrancy, cooling sensations, promotion of mouth-watering, and a late, welcome huigan.

It is, while an accomplished tea, a little light and delicate for my tastes, which call for a rugged, rambunctious soup.  It can seem a little ordinary if the attention wanders, but its qualities become obvious if you focus on it sufficiently.

$95?  Perhaps, if delicate, fragile teas are to your taste.  For me, the hint of low Simao is just a reminder of how dissimilar it is to the Simao cakes that I adore.  De gustibus non est disputandem.  (Not that such sentiments stop me from disputing.)

After the really quite mediocre 2010 Xizihao bamboo tube, this Laowushan was a welcome return to form.

2011 Yunzhiyuan "Autumn Gaoshanzhai"

I'm drinking this tea at 4 a.m., following a brief awakening of Xiaohu.  I never object when those better of my students want to go rowing in the mornings - it is an early-morning commitment every day, and yet it has the effect (on a strong student) of focussing the mind on the hours that remain.  (Weaker students tend to get bogged down, losing time and energy, and we soon ask them to stop rowing.)  

When time is limited, the remaining time perhaps becomes more productive, due to an increased sense of gentle urgency.  It is this way with my rowers; it is this way with my working day.  Between the morning Xiaohu routine (dressing / feeding / cycling to nursery) and the evening routine (cooking dinner / reading with Xiaohu / putting him to bed), the hours between are compressed... and yet very alive.  It is a fascinating effect - my traditional recommendation still stands, that male readers should impregnate someone to find out for yourselves.  It's great.

So what is keeping me awake at 4 a.m.?  

I think Scott is getting busier.  I used to drink all of his cakes, but these days can only manage a selection of the better ones.  They're usually in the range good-to-very-good, and so it's not hard to enjoy them.

This particular cake is the autumnal version of the most expensive of his spring cakes (which sold for over $100).  I very much enjoyed that spring cake, but was a little put off by the price. This autumnal ("guhua") tea is around half of the price of the spring version, for an equivalent weight.  Scott is usually fair with his prices, and this leads me to suspect that something is "up" with this tea.

Unsurprisingly, it looks lovely.  Despite my ropey pre-dawn photography, pictured above, you can see the lovely, long leaves.  

The first sign that this isn't up to its spring counterpart is the particularly quiet aroma; the leaves exude a remote, gentle sweetness, but little more.

This continues in the cup: the first infusion is almost entirely dormant, while later infusions gently gather a heavy body, with a gently sweet character.  However, the heights of the springtime leaves are not scaled.  Autumnal cakes are usually less potent, but perhaps darker, richer, and lower.  This cake, unfortunately, just seems more distant, weedy, and simple.

I drink the remainder of the leaves to exhaustion in my office, background brewing, and they last well.  However, the basic sweetness, with a tangy body, are all that remain of my hopes for this cake.  If you haven't yet tried a sample of the springtime version, I highly recommend it.  This one didn't really enthuse me, though.

Happily, there are plenty of other cakes with equal promise in Scott's autumnal range...

Maliandao Butterfly

Maliandao

butterfly flits between

horsecarts