2011 Hailanghao "Laobanzhang"

I refer the venerable Reader to my article concerning last year's cake of the same variety (which wasn't a particularly accomplished tea), the notes for which may be found here.  At the time of that article, the $220 asking price was the most expensive I have encountered for unaged tea.  

This 2011 cake ups the ante to $295.

I have come the conclusion that Hailanghao cakes such as these are not for pu'er enthusiasts, such as the likes of you and me.

Rather like the single extortionately-priced bottle of wine residing at the bottom of most wine-lists, which exists simply so that the drinker with the large bonus can find something to spend it on, this cake is not aiming to be good value.  Instead, I conclude that Mr. Hailang is simply hoping to catch one or two "big fish", rather than sell lots of cakes to enthusiasts.

As with the 2010 cake, this 2011 has similar medium-sized leaves, pictured above.  They share the fresh, mint-like aroma that I previously noted.

The soup turns out to be a welcome yellow colour, which gradually turns orange as I write in my diary.  This is, in fact, a good tea - unlike last year's version.  It is big in the mouth, with a heavy, thick body that conveys a solid sweetness and finishes cleanly.  Like some better "LBZ" maocha I have encountered, it has very little bitterness in the finish, although it does swell nicely and causes the mouth to water.

This is a more rounded, well-balanced, and enjoyable cake than last year's monstrosity.  It also seems to be absent the unwelcome sour tang of its predecessor.  

Being unused to caffeine of late, due to drinking various herbal whatnots in my office, this tea has a direct and immediate effect on me, which is heavy and comforting.

In the product description, Scott of Yunnan Sourcing writes that "it is more about the sensations that it gives, rather than its flavour."  Were I feeling uncharitable, I would hazard that this is merchantspeak for a cake that is pleasant and refined, and yet not exceptional, but which has a good deal of caffeine and other physiology-affecting compounds.

During the fifth infusion, it has dwindled into a sweet gentility.  I would, at this point, have trouble picking this tea out of a line-up of fifth infusions from other Laobanzhang cakes that are one-third of its price.

It is good, clean, well-balanced and enjoyable, being made from leaves of obvious quality.  The price is such that three cakes cost the same as an '88 Qingbing, one of the most famous of the commonly-available cakes.  $80, perhaps a shade more, is a price that, in my estimation, reflects its charms.  $300 is, as always with Hailanghao from recent years, barking mad.

I'd love to know who buys these.  The fact that they exist suggests that someone must be doing so...

2011 Yunzhiyuan "Nanpozhai"

The life of a young academic is nomadic.  There is very little certainty, and we tend to roam.  Stability and permanence are not usually available to the likes of us.  Lei and I both fit into this category, and we are continually grateful for the (relative) stability that has been afforded us of late.  Many of you, gentle Readers, are in the same boat.

This year, for me, was typical: I waved goodbye to my old college and decamped for another, halfway across town.  (In fact, it is my brother's college, which is pleasantly weird.)  There are over thirty colleges in our university, and I have now travelled through seven of them - student at two, lecturer at four, fellow at one. Ever the traveller. Like the character in the old TV series Quantum Leap, I hope that every next leap will be the leap home.

You never know.

My new college is a little older than my old college; however, it is not New College, which is one of the oldest colleges. My new college is newer than New - by a few centuries, in fact, being founded when Shakespeare was seven years old.

 

The city is never this sunny.  Ever.

With the coming of the new Michaelmas term, a new batch of Freshers throw themselves willingly into the fray.  Wide-eyed new souls to be forged, manipulated, and bent to the evil will of their tutors.  Before the chaos of "1st week" begins, I enjoy the last fleeting wisps of summer freedom in this, "0th week".  That means tea.

To bid adieu to the departed summer, I select a sample of "Nanpozhai" [nan-poh-djai], kindly provided by Scott of Yunnan Sourcing with my last order.  The wrapper is shown above; Scott has returned to the traditional calligraphic renderings of the Hanzi, on a white background.  It's simple, it's elegant, and it's probably not going to have evil coloured inks that adversely affect the tea.  A fine choice.

I wasn't aware of this until I read Scott's detailed notes (which are always very welcome), but Nanpozhai is the next village over from Bingdaozhai, which is the place in Mengku County (of Lincang prefecture) famous for its centuries-old "mother trees".  He has another cake from Bingdao [ice island], which is, appropriately, called "Mushucha" [mother-tree tea].  It will be interesting to see if this Nanpozhai has inherited any of the regions famously cooling, mouth-chilling characteristics.

The leaves are medium-to-large, and reaffirm my confidence in Scott's ability to select healthy, well-handled maocha.  As the sample pack is opened, a fruity aroma forcefully elbows its way out of the bag.

 As with most of the Yunzhiyuan cakes, this brews a healthy yellow, which unhurriedly turns a dense yellow as the action of the air works upon it.  Perhaps unsurprisingly, it is most cooling on the tongue.  However, it combines with a clean fruity bouquet, much like that of the dry leaves.

Each of us has our own tastes in pu'ercha, and this cake begins by playing quite strongly to mine: it has a sweet, cereal-like base, much beloved in Lincang teas, with a great deal of tobacco and other heavy flavours to keep me happy.  Over the top of all this develops a minty freshness of chilling Bingdao.

Later infusions build in kuwei [bitter taste], and it pushes out into a sharp, citric territory that makes me think twice about loving it too much - although it is not at all unpleasant.  By the end of the session, I am left with a gentle soup of low, decent activity.  There is a good quantity of contents to be found in the leaves, and it has the sheer trousers to do well after a few years, I imagine.  The charm of the first infusions wears off quickly, and this talks me out of buying a cake - but, if your shelves have room for a most interesting Lincang cake, comprising Bingdao ice with Mengku cereal, this is definitely worth at least sampling.

Let the term commence!

End of Trinity

end of Trinity

the sound of the spiderweb

stirred by the sunbeam