Water Pools

water pools
among the rocks - then pools
and pools again

- John Wills

House Blend

Here's something that you might like to try at home.

Many years ago, I remember reading (I think at the ever-excellent site of MarshalN) that the "Best Teahouse" in Hong Kong used to keep a tray for their left-over pu'er, into which all the loose leaves would fall from their braeking of bingcha, repackaging tea, etc.  Since then, I've been doing the same, and keeping my own left-overs in a big, green tea-tube.

Fear not - it hasn't had longjing in it for about five years

Every time I open a cake, there are some left-over leaves rattling around in the wrapper; every time I cut a cake, there are some left-over leaves in my cutting tray.  Every time I pack samples for teachums, there are some leaves left over.

You'd be surprised how quickly they accumulate...

The result is rather appealing.  It contains old tea, new tea, good tea, bad tea (thankfully, I'm not getting too much bad tea these days), from all mountains, from all factories.  It's a complex tapestry of characteristics that changes from session to session.  In the words of Forrest Gump, "you never know what you're gonna get." 

Somehow, the results are usually very enjoyable - a surprise, I know!

So, if you're receiving samples from me in future, don't be surprised if you see an innocuous package labelled "House Blend"...

2003 Menghai "Yiya Yuancha"

It's a small world.  The tea-world is especially small, as I'm sure you know.  One of my teachums, ST, lives in Singapore.  "One of my friends is sending her daughter to law school at your university, and will be there next week", he wrote.

Days later, I find myself walking to the Lodge of my college to meet ST's friend and her daughter, recently arrived from Singapore.  Such a small world...

"We thought you were one of the students!" she said.  I take it as a compliment.  Before five minutes had passed, we were tucked up in the SCR drinking Assam.

ST had asked the two Singaporean ladies to pass on the above to me - and what a treat it is.  Thanks very much indeed!  This is a Menghai special production, with not a "Dayi" in sight.

It's also rather sizeable, as you can see from the comparison below with a standard Dayi.

The fresh scent of the tea gives away its "yinhao"-esque status, which you can see below.  The entire face of the cake is covered in tips, which run a little way into the cake, before turning into darker basis leaves.

Easily separated, it is a 50-50 blend of tips and darker leaves.

Sometimes, the darker leaves in yinhao blends are pre-oxidised, or "reddened", in the wulong manner.  Happily, that didn't happen here: the dark leaves are clean shengpu, which is quite unusual (and much preferred).  The freshness of the shengpu mixes well with the creaminess of the tips, and gives it a complexity that yinhao usually lacks.

The whole tea tastes rather like sweet pine, exactly as you'd hope a 6-year-old shengpu would taste.  While lighter than ordinary shengpu, due to the tips, it is exceedingly enjoyable.  Thanks to its enormous size, I don't see Lei and me finishing this in a hurry!

Thanks again to ST for the lovely gift, and welcome to his friend and daughter for the Michaelmas term.

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Addendum
March, 2014

This "one-bud round-tea" was a gift from a friend of ST.  I remember their family coming to join me in my college at the time (Somerville).  The old SCR there reminds me rather of my dear departed grandmother's house: all tall clocks and big sofas.

This large box, due to its size, has been the foundation for a large pile of other boxes.  I thought it high time to revisit this tea, after five years have passed.  How has the collection of silver-leaves aged?

The leaves look a touch darker - the basis leaves, that is.  The silver leaves look largely unchanged, as you might surmise from a comparison of the photograph below with those above.

The scent has come on nicely, and we are now treated with a rich, sweet, rather humid pungency.

Five years on, the yellow-orange soup has darkened noticeably to orange-red.  There is a welcome density, and a rich woodiness, to its thick soup that is commendable.  Surprisingly, now at eleven years of age, there is also a note of sweet pollen about it - I would have expected such transients to disappear more promptly, and their inclusion is welcome.

Also evident is the rich maltiness of a cake that has found its way around the corner, departing adolescence and entering a new stage of its life.  So it remains for a dozen infusions, holding up remarkably well to repeated brewing.  I am reminded that Menghai can be very reliable.

After five years, this cake has come on nicely, and noticeably.  The student, whom ST's family were here to welcome to the university, has probably long-since graduated.  This tea remains a fine memory of that welcome visit.