A Punch in the Netherdimensions

Did you ever try a tea that made you wish you could go back in time and regain the time spent at the tea-table by avoiding the tea in question?  I give you the 2011 Chawangpu "Baoshan Yesheng".

To say that this tea "sucks" would be to discredit things that actually suck.  This tea is so far deep beyond suction that new adjectives must be constructed, in bespoke manner.  We need a word artisan to hand-craft a new adjective that suitably describes this tea.  In the absence of such finesse, we will opt for the temporary placeholder phrase: "totally sucks".

There was a Jet Li (I think) film, once, in which the main character (a monk, predictably enough) expounded on teas: he said that every tea is magnificent, even the most humble tea.  Every tea was worthy of respect, because the grandeur of its creation and its presence, here and now, is beyond the faculty of language to describe - indeed it is beyond the self to comprehend the true nature of the tea in the cup.  Every tea is not just a tea, but an inexpressible example of Buddhanature, brewed at the current instant, which tastes unlike all other teas because it is part of that instant.

However, I'm fairly confident that, if Jet Li's character tried this Chawangpu Baoshan Yesheng, he would said, "Oh man, that really sucks.  Like, totally."

Baoshan is a place far away.  Even in Yunnan, which is far away in the general sense, Baoshan is far removed from pretty much everywhere.  It is beyond Simao, beyond Lincang, and has borders with Dehong.   It is so unimaginably remote that it is next to Xiaguan country.

Baoshan probably has some amazing teas.  Tucked away in its remote location, there are probably unspeakably ancient arboreal grandfather trees, quietly producing ninjitsu pu'ercha on a regular basis.  The tea is probably famous among the locals, allowing them to reach unimaginable life-spans, and imparting to them the deep secrets of the primeval forests of which the trees are the last living creature capable of remembering.  It is, perhaps almost literally, the fruit of the Gods, the holy grail, the remaining link of mankind to an aeon now long past.

Not, however, this tea.  It really, totally sucks.

Thanks to Jakub for the session.

Godzilla Rising

Godzilla rising -

my little dragon stands

for the first time

Autumnal Stability

Week-ends are a thing of beauty: each seems to feel like a little holiday, lately.  What better way to open the two-day break than with a new Yiwu from Pu-erh.sk?  With thanks to Peter for the sample, we explore a "guhua" tea from the general Yiwushan area.

Little seems to be known about this tea; it is generic Yiwu in name, but looks rather attractive.  I could not find the tea for sale at Peter's web-site, even though it is mentioned in some marketing text at the top of the page, but I see that the 2012 Autumnal Yiwu (which I rather enjoyed) sells for 48 euro per 250g.

This cake, it must be said, is not quite up to the level of the tea that I had before.  This is a "workhorse" - a stable, reliable, unchanging Yiwu cake that ploughs a furrow of dark sweetness without bothering the more poetical adjectives that we might otherwise be tempted to consider.  Perhaps it is best in its initial scent - the wenxiangbei is buttery, sweet, and very heavy.  By comparison, the tea is merely "decent".  This is not a bad thing, of course, and I had a most enjoyable session, but there are (very) many Yiwushan cakes that have qualities similar to those on offer today.

Perhaps surprisingly, this cake eventually wheedles its way into my affections, by remaining unchanging and strong for some fifteen or so infusions.  This is a virtue in an autumnal tea, which are not known for their strength and constancy.  It reminds me that I am looking forward to trying the new 2014 season from Pu-erh.sk, which, as regular readers may reasonably conclude, has become one of my favourite suppliers over the past year or so.