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.

Taijiquan, II

sweep leg, pick lotus

seagull throws forget-me-nots

bend bow, shoot tiger

Enter the 36 Chambers

If this 2004 Guafengzhai cake from Pu-erh.sk were a track from classic album "Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)", then it would surely be Cash Rules Everything Around Me: it starts out friendly, but as we might later come to expect from Inspectah Deck*, it rapidly turns serious.  It is repetitive, it is caustic, it is bitter.  And before long, you realise that you've rather enjoyed it. 

*He's like that dude that'll sit there and watch you play yourself and all that right? and [he'll] see you sit there and know you['re] lyin[g].

We may never know the Inspector's opinion on 'Banna region tea, but I suspect that he would be in approval of this Guafengzhai.  It is dark, loose, well-made, and has the rich scent of humidity.  My own cakes do not acquire this jungle-like humidity, and I always enjoy it when it comes my way.

Like Cash Rules Everything Around Me, this Guafengzhai is built on a strong foundation of appealingly sweet notes: it has a big, bold characteristic in the wenxiangbei [aroma cup], and continues forever, over and over over.

Again, like "C.R.E.A.M.", it has a strange capacity to resonate with your expectations, and has the potency to endure well with the passing years.  Already aged to some degree (although, of course, less than the "36 Chambers"), the Guafengzhai has a traditional, powerful huigan.  It is not grand, but it is strong, and that counts for a great deal.

As you know, Gentle Reader, Cash Rules Everything Around Me is a duet with Raekwon the Chef*, and this Guafengzhai reflects his contribution: perhaps somewhat edgy, backward-looking, but without being too bitter.  It is an excellent balance.

Many thanks to Peter for the opportunity to try this excellent cake.

*He's always cookin[g] up some marvellous **** to get your mouth watering.