2008 Xiaguan - FT "Yun Mei"

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Xiaguan, not to praise them.

Oh, 500g cakes. With your weighty splendour - whenever did one of these massy beasts turn out to be anything other than disappointing? And yet, I run ahead of myself.

Xiaguan, purveyors of decent factory pu'er since time immemorial, now experimenting with all manner of concoctions - which of your many cakes are we supposed to enjoy? You spoil us with choice, and offer us no clues, for the gamut costs approximately the same throughout. Which are your good teas? Is this Yun Mei [cloud plum] a good tea? Have the madmen taken over the asylum, and five hundred "special" varieties produced every year without differentiation?

If fans of Xiaguan can exist, then I consider myself among them. Perhaps not entirely given over to their mass-produced, yet very decent, operations, I do love that "Xiaguan character". After experiencing so many of their minor variations on a theme, I feel that I have come to understand that theme - though due to nothing more than sheer, bloody-minded exposure.

If I were to say "this cake doesn't cost much, at $23", or "it's a special run created for the FT company of Taiwan", it would mean little, given that so much of the interesting output from Xiaguan is in the same category. If not FT, then XY, or somesuch other, but you understand.

Drinking Xiaguan is now something of a sport. It is an endeavour in trying to spot the tiny nuances that may or may not exist between any particular cake and the rest of their (sizeable) annual catalogue.

What, then, of the Yun Mei?

Shown above, I think you'll agree that it looks like a Xiaguan "special" cake. The leaves are small, they're quite tight (this is a tiebing - iron pressed, directly in the hydraulic mould without a sackcloth covering), and they have a sweet scent that neither impresses nor disappoints. For a tiebing, the leaves come apart surprisingly well.

I did like the 2008 Xiaguan XY 8853. That was good Xiaguan. Perhaps unfortunately for this Yun Mei, that 8853 remains in my memory, and the current brew seems a bit thin by comparison.

"Cloud Plum" indeed. I thought that this name was picked just because of the silly little daisy imprints in the tea-mould, but the tea itself is very floral, delicate, sweet... rather like classic Nannuo. Is it not a thing of wonder that pu'er, and tea in general, can take so many forms and characters, despite being just leaf?

For Xiaguan, this is quite unusual tea, being so floral. In that, they have successfully found something to differentiate this cake from all the others. However, it's not a great example - it's a bit thin, it's a little sour (though I think that's my hangover, as Lei doesn't find it so), and it has more than its fair share of plantation roughness, gripping the walls of the mouth and throat.

There are some teas that, even though they are not incredible, I would be happy to own just a single cake. This Yun Mei is not one of those - I will not miss it, and will remember it only as "that slightly Nannuo cake from Xiaguan".

I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts. I am no orator; for I have neither wit, nor words, nor the power of speech to stir men's blood. I only speak right on; I tell you that which you yourselves do know.

Xiaguan Yun Mei: I bid you good day.

2008 Xiaguan - XY "8853"

An Easter gift from my mother (pictured below). What better way to celebrate the resurrection of Our Lord than by eating boiled eggs from a lapine cranial cavity.

Friends speak highly of this tea, and at $22 per bing from Yunnan Sourcing, the potential for great bargainage is upon us. I am not fond of the word "redux", so let us merely say that this tea is based on the 8853 recipe from 2001. (Why 2001, and not 1988?) It feels that I have reached saturation with special Xiaguan cakes from 2008, and I have deliberately neglected my sample of this tea. Notes from friends nudged me out of my stupor, and I aim to give it a fair session.

A certain "Ye Binghua" of Guangzhou is behind the "XY" label, and you may remember the 2008 XY "Big Green Tree". 'Twas tasty, with a quality akin to that of the "FT" label, also from Xiaguan. The product description records that this was made using maocha from spring 2007 and 2008.

What do you think of the maocha in the above photograph? The leaves are quite small - much smaller than the "5" in "8853" would suggest. My first impression was that they were dark, and that the aroma was very solid indeed. It is pungently sweet and, in that modern Xiaguan manner, a little smoky. The sheer potency of the aroma is encouraging - perhaps there is some real content.

I'm not a big fan of yanking flowers out of the ground to cheer up my photographs, and instead rely on windfalls. Fortunately, the strong winds of the English springtime, combined with heavy blooms weighing down the branches of trees and bushes, do not leave us wanting.

It's at times like this that I really appreciate the feminine touch around the house brought by my dear wife, as I am entirely unconscious of such things until they crop up on our shelves and tables.

That strong aroma from the dry leaves lives on in the wenxiangbei [aroma cup] - sweet and tart. First impressions: thick. Sweet fruits to open, chunky sweetness to finish. This is solid and has plenty to get your teeth into. Wisps of the Xiaguan smokiness remain in the nose, afterwards.

This is a "big" pu'er, rather like the stereotype of Californian wine.

Later infusions bring development of the cereal-like Lincang character. As the leaf swells, potent the brew becomes. Much later, all aspects are outpaced by its goodly sweet nature. There is charm here, and out into the later infusions as is unexpected for factory tea. It is unavoidably Xiaguan, but I enjoy it, for all its familiarity.

Those little leaves, shown above, carry much withal.

A hit! A very palpable hit!

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Addendum
24 April, 2009

Subsequent sessions are quite different to that described above - the tea is pleasant, but does not swell to the "big" proportions noted above, no matter how I adjust the brewing parameters. During later sessions, it seems thinner, less complex, and less stuffed full of content. I downgrade my purchasing intentions!

2007 Yongde Ziyu "Qingbing"

Copious thanks to the mighty Jamus for this sample, which he discovered as part of the private collection of Scott, from Yunnan Sourcing. It's price at about $25 from Norbu Tea, where the vendor comments that this is a garden-grown tea from trees that are around 50 years of age.

"The trees in this garden at 6,000 ft elevation on Mang Fei Mountain (7,200 ft at the peak) basically grow wild until harvest time when the leaves are hand picked."

It would be nice to think that this is true and, perhaps to some limited degree, some of the leaves may indeed come from such trees. I think we'd all be quite foolish if we took such claims at face value, which is a great pity - regular readers will know that I am entirely in favour of introducing DOC-style protection for tea farmers. Then again, I'm sure the tea farmers themselves find it advantageous to make their old-tree growth go further by mixing it with leaves from plantations and younger trees. Maybe we'll get there in 50 years...

Saturday mornings, wonderful times. The week-end stretches out ahead of us, and we can sit down to enjoy some tea, safe in the knowledge that all of those "essential" tasks have plenty of time to be realised. Just, later. Much later.

Tea first.

The leaves (above) are pleasantly green, sweet, and well-defined. It's a good start.

Our tea-table is only about one foot off the floor, so we sit under it on cushions. On Saturday mornings, the sun slants through the windows and lights us up in dramatic fashion. Heidu snoozes on a sofa. The music to "Hongloumeng" tinkles away on the stereo.

This tea is a funny fellow. Lei loved it. She found it "delicate, like an educated middle-aged woman." I found it thin, sweet, and quite astringent. There was plenty of roughness adhering to the walls of the cheeks, and around the throat, which seemed to indicate the presence of at least some plantation leaves in this "50-year-old growth" cake.

It has a pleasant, savoury base, and the astringency can be partly avoided by very quick brewing, but the results are so very thin.

Altogether, a tea I wouldn't pursue, and I daresay probably isn't worth the asking price. That's in terms of critical appreciation.

In terms of a good tea-session, this was a great one, and a lovely way to start the week-end. You can't argue with gongfucha. Thanks again to Jamus, who was with us at the tea-table in spirit if not in person.