2000 Haiwan Guhua

Thanks to MA for this one, the original of which was available at Jing until recently. It's great between writing thesis chapters...

Dark leaves and in good sized pieces. They are clearly scented with a certain "ash"-like character.

This is fairly unorthodox tea. It's orange, and then opens with a long, spicy, smoky aroma - very long, in fact. The flavour is the really curious aspect: it is grainy, rather like a Chinese sweet potato.

Lively on the lips, it leaves them buzzing and coated in tea-oil. Then, the tea makes a rapid sprint for the throat, with a huigan that promotes excessive mouth-watering. "An asparagus aroma - very fresh, very enjoyable."

This tea is so very active! It seems that many of the teas I have been drinking of late carry this same, excellent characteristic. The vibrancy really is as remarkable as that of the 2007 Xizihao Dingji. Somewhere, a while ago, I recall mention of this tea being "flat" - I just don't see that. Later infusions carry a lovely tobacco character.

Next to the final two infusions, I appear to have written the succinct note: "Decent." Good quality is evident in the wet leaves, but they seem a a bit on the thin side for autumnal produce.

Overall:
Enjoyable, if a bit wacky. Truly vibrant, with an unusual grain-like, mineral character. This is a good pick - thanks again to MA.

2003 Menghai "Hong Kong Henry" 7542

You have to admit, this tea has a great name. I don't know if "Hong Kong Henry Trading Co." really exists, but if doesn't, it should. Fantastic.

This cake is $78 from Houde, where it is noted that the cake sports a neifei in both faces of the bing. I've had the notes for a while, and thanks to DV for reminding me to publish them.

Dark brown, with large fragments of leaf. A fair number of tips are visible. It is sweet wood in aroma, which agrees with Guang's observation of "pinewood". There are some good tobacco notes underneath the main scent.

The Houde description draws the similarity between this cake and the aroma of inksticks used in Chinese calligraphy, nicknaming it the "Scholar 7542". Given the brutally acidic nature of this tea, I am inclined to be less complimentary.

The soup is lucid orange. Some initial smokiness fades into a long, rich super-lengxiang of molasss. It lasts forever, dolling out plenty of dark sweetness - really, it is quite remarkable in this aspect.

Also remarkable is the aforementioned acidity. There isn't a lot of straight flavour here, as the acidity really dominates the proceedings. The closest I got was the sensation of that dark molasses undercurrent after the swallow.

The texture is decent, with a fine coating of light tea-oil on lips and tongue. As with the 1985 Yiwu Tuocha and the 2007 Xizihao Dingji, the contact-based energy of this tea is quite special, and leads to that similar numbing sensation wherever contact is made.

It settles down into a green, menthol opening, before quickly diving into pure acid in the centre of the tongue, and in the throat.

If battery acid were made out of molasses, this is it.

"This tea is like drinking earth", notes Lei as she briefly passes through, and indeed the opening flavour in the later infusions does taste like soil suspended in water - prior to the attack of the omnipresent acid.

Small and green, the wet leaves are chopped quite deliberately.

Overall:
For me, this isn't quite so much a "Scholar 7542" as much as it is a young waif with a bitter, acidic temper. It is hard to make judgements as to its future given that the majority of the molasses-based flavour is obscured by the acid. I'd like to revisit this in five years. Ouch.

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Addendum
February, 2012

Superthanks to HC for providing me with a sample of this tea that I had previously written off, due to its acidity and bitterness during its youth.  With some extra years on the clock, has this cake settled down?

In 2007, this cake was $78, which seemed a huge amount, at the time.  That Houde's proprietor called this a "scholar tea" used to make me weep big tears, but it is now almost a decade old, and perhaps the times they have a-changed.

I am reminded that the blend contains plenty of stems and other welcome additions to the mixture, such as the odd huangpian [yellow-flake, the outer leaves that are often discarded by hand], pictured below.

Much has happened: this orange-souped little fellow now delivery a sweet, sharp, pinelike cup with an excellent body.  The texture is heavy and smooth, a far cry from the rough terror of its immediate youth.  The acidity has helped it along the way, and I enjoy the result very much.

What pleasant surprises may be in store for those acrid, aggressive cakes... HC has converted me to the delights of this most enjoyable cake, with his generously-provided sample.  The infusions march on longer after my capacity to drink them has passed.  The future for this cake looks good indeed.

2007 Changtai "Hou De"

Following the 2006 Changtai "Taipei Expo" bing, here's another tea from the same blender (Mr. Huang) for comparison. I happened to be drinking these on consecutive days, by chance. This one is supposedly a mixture of leaves from Bulang, Nannuo, and Gelanhe (?), with "some 2006 old plantation Nannuo leaves for sweetness and aftertaste".

The leaves are dark, fragmented a la Changtai, and have a low tobacco scent that is pleasant but a little weak. I am skeptical of blends being made from quite so many (4!) different types of leaves, and wonder if the weakness of aroma is due to it.

Again, as with the previous cake, the soup is a solid orange. Here, the aroma is dark, malty, and sweet.

The character is a bit odd: mild grain to open, but swelling towards the back of the mouth into a rolling huigan that leaves the mouth watering excessively for almost a whole minute. This could well be the contribution of the old leaves, as it is quite striking, and seems like a separate component.

This tea is particularly, strikingly, cooling in its effect: it has the "post-mintiness" sensation in the mouth, and it leaves the tongue and lips literally cold while the huigan swells. Following the muted wenxiangbei, there is little in the nose except the post-mintiness.

Later infusions see the huigan component diminishing, while a more floral component steps forward, accompanied by an increased acidity in the throat. It seems as if the various leaves that make up this mixture have interesting waxing and waning times.

By the third infusion, and to the end, the tea has collapsed into bland, slightly acidic fruit juice.

At this point, Lei pops in from her lab and gives the following succint second opinion: "Hmm, this is just like drinking kuding. So boring!"

The leaves are more whole than the 2006 Taipei Expo, but they are very thin and fragile - bespeaking a certain lack of quality, or at least heavy farming (especially in conjunction with the rather muted, rapidly-diminishing contents of the tea itself).

Not one I'll be pursuing further, but interesting for the purposes of education, at least.