1999 Chen Guanghetang "Yiwu Longma"

A long time ago, I wrote about a cake that I enjoyed very much, the 1999 Chen Guanghetang "Mengsa".  Its sister, the 1999 Yiwu Longma [Dragon and Horse] proved rather more popular with Iwii and Nada at the time, and now, years later, I return to examine the other half of the story.

Lei tells me that "Tang" (as in Xizihao's "Sanhetang" and Chen Zhitong's "Chen Guanghetang") literally means "hall", and that it is the ancient manner of naming a company in Chinese.  "Guanghetang" would therefore be, approximately, "broad/covering together hall".  Very roughly.

In the manner of the stereotypical Chinese / Taiwanese merchant, Chen Zhitong does not give the immediate impression of being a modest man.  "This is better than Big Green Tree!", quoth he.  

If there's one thing that rubs me up the wrong way, it's bluff old bravado.  Then again, he does make good tea, so his claim may be entirely fair.  The proof of the pudding is in the tasting...

This is pretty tea, you have to admit.  Feast your ocular facilities over the long, lustrous, lascivious leaves shown above.  Desirable, non?  Some twelve years after plucking, and they resemble wulong.

Fortunately, that is where the similarity to wulong ends.  The soup turns out to be a chunky, fat red (as may be seen below), which contrasts immediately with the yellow-orange of the similarly aged, but dissimilarly stored, 1999 Dadugang "Yunnan Yuanbao".

Smooth, thick, and heavy in chaqi - however, the flavour is hidden, being distant sweetness, behind the texture, and overall kougan [feeling in the mouth].  This is a tactile, lively tea, but it doesn't taste of a great deal.

By the fifth infusion, it requires substantially lengthened infusion times, which, combined with the very distant character, make me wonder if this tea is a touch exhausted in some way.  It has been stored in a sealed sample bag for some years, and so I'm sure that it isn't at its best - but other teas from the same year, stored in the same imperfect manner, have retained their potency where this has not.

I pile in the leaves, but little difference is made.  On reading Houde's notes, I suspect that we may have found the reason why: this is a blend of maocha from various years, from various locations throughout the Yiwu region, from various seasons, and from various types of growth.  It is a varied blend, but this seems to have detrimentally affected its potency.

On the face of the evidence, I must conclude that Mr. Chen's claim that this is "better than Big Green Tree" is, unfortunately for him and for me, pure bunk.

The Second Nine

seventh day

of the second nine -

ice in the gaiwan

1999 Dadugang "Yunnan Yuanbao"

Kudos to Dr. Lee for stocking a varied and enjoyable range of "tasting sets", some four years ago. It consisted of some landmark teas, such as the 1999 Menghai "Dalushu" [Big Green Tree].  Concerning the latter, if you will excuse me for quoting myself, I wrote the following when I dipped into it, during 2008:

This is an excellent tea with which to "kill the Buddha". History, yes. Landmark in the tradition of processing, maybe. Awesome tea: that's less obvious.

It's important to keep an open mind, and to see what's really there in front of you, not what others have told you is there.  This is "killing the Buddha".

For all you Beatrix Potter fans out there

Some years later, I realised that I haven't tried some of the "tasting set", such as this "Yunnan Yuanbao" [Yunnan round treasure] cake from Dadugang.  This bing has a convoluted history: the famous state-owned Dadugang brand was acquired by Longyuan [Dragon Garden] Tea Co. in 1999, and this must mark one of their first productions.  Or it would be, had they made it - instead, according to Guang's notes, they deemed it unprofitable to make a small run of laoshu cakes, and so contracted the job out to (the similarly newly-established) Changtai Tea Co.  

So, this is really a Changtai cake.  Surely, this is A Good Thing.

It also makes it the very close sister to the 1999 Yichanghao "Songtiban", with which it shares many characteristics, and the sister of the 1999 Yichanghao "Yiwu", with which it has rather less in common.

At $14/10g ($525/cake) at Houde, this makes for a moderately expensive session, but one to which I feel thoroughly entitled after changing nappies, bathing babies, and doing tons of handiwork around the home.    It's also the first day after the end of Hilary Term, and therefore requires some celebration.

(He said, attempting to justify his own hobby to himself.)

An advanced plummy aroma jumps out of the sample packet.  As may be seen above, this is an old-fashioned cake, made from small leaves.  You can also see that it has aged rather well.

Clean, woody, and sharp - this has seen a great deal of dry storage, which also comes out in the colour of the soup, which (contrary to the photograph above) starts out as a yellow-orange.  That razor-sharp precision in the character has seen very little muddying or dampening due to more humid types of storage.

Is it a charming, woody, and enjoyable tea?  Yes, it is.

Is it a classic of our times, likely to stop clocks and halt traffic?  No, it is not.  The body is "loose" and watery, and its character feels distant, as if observed from far away.  It is smooth enough, in the manner of downy, tippy pu'ercha, but it is not full, nor robust.  

I enjoyed its soothing chaqi, which was of that remarkable type that simultaneously calms and brightens, just like a tonic.  I am reminded of the stories of elderly Chinese chaps holding onto tons of old pu'ercha for precisely that purpose: a tonic with which to balance the physiology.

Just what a man needs on a special Saturday morning.