2011 Qidan Dahongpao

Dahongpao is a funny thing.  The six mother trees from which it has traditionally been made, growing in the Jiulongke region of Wuyishan, have, of course, been protected since 2007.  A number of clones of these mother trees exist, which have become celebrated in their own right as the "next best thing", now that it is prohibited to pick leaves from the mothers.  I recall visiting Postcard Teas in London, and being shown a spreadsheet by the owner, Timothy, detailing the quantity of leaf picked per year, and the corresponding price per kilo, for each of a set of first-generation clones.

Vicony Teas recently contacted me, with a generous offer of some yancha from their collection.  One of two samples that they sent, this Dahongpao comes from the 15-year-old Qidan [ch'ee dan] clones growing in the Foguoyan [Buddha County] region, and which is part of the "zhengyan" [proper yancha] area.

Opening the sample bag releases an advanced, potent aroma of juicy yancha into the room.  As shown above, the leaves are pretty, and long, and about the colour that one would expect for Dahongpao.  I can't remember the last time that I had a good yancha, and so this is considered to be something of a treat for me.

Concordantly, I bring out my yancha pot from its slumber in the dark recesses of our teapot cupboard, which is shown below.  She is so seldom used that she doesn't even have a name, which is unusual for my teaware (as the regular reader may have gathered).  She was bought from Maliandao by my dear wife some years back, and is very well-suited to the sweet-yet-husky nature of yancha.

I find it very hard to overbrew yancha, and this affords the ability to pile tons of leaves into the pot, giving a thick, robust brew with plenty of character.  The resulting soup is a heavy orange, as pictured above, which is particularly clean.

The aroma is something to behold: it is a shifting, dense mixture of  lychee, butter, and many other complementary sweetnesses.  It seemingly dwells for ever in the aroma cup.  Likewise, the soup itself tastes remarkable: it is more of the same, but with a strong, numbing sensation on the lips and tip of the tongue that defies reason.  It hangs in the throat for several minutes, and rewards slow, patient drinking, with full attention.

I have absolutely no idea as to the price of this tea, because Vicony Teas seems to operate a policy of "request the price list".  It certainly is one of the most potent Dahongpao that I have encountered; however, the fearsome price of some of these popular yancha varieties can make the wallet quake in terror, and so I don't expect it to be inexpensive.

In small quantities, it is a treat to behold and well worth the session.  Thanks again to Richard for the sample.

Addendum: This is priced at $380/kg, Vicony's most expensive product.