Another year, another interview. I used to be terrified during interviews, sitting in a dark, oak-panelled room, alone on one side of a long table, facing a panel of dark, oak-faced academics, all asking difficult questions.
Happily, once you've been grilled by one panel of old professors, you've been grilled by them all. These days, I notice that I'm chirpy and almost glad to have someone sounding interested in my research.
The questions were all within the realm of the expected, except for one that took me by surprise: "Do you have somewhere to live?"
Lei later joked that I must look homeless...
The questions were all within the realm of the expected, except for one that took me by surprise: "Do you have somewhere to live?"
Lei later joked that I must look homeless...
Its bark is worse than its bite
Mission successful, this time, and so it's high time we celebrated with a cake from our Singaporean chum, Keng.
We're taking you back to the old school, because it's so cool, and we're no fool
This is properly old-school Changtai - it doesn't have a brand, and the wrapper (pictured above) is charming in its naivety. Even its name is innocent: "Banna".
Heicha
This is a seriously dark cake! It really is quite black. This is a surprise, because, at seven years of age, it isn't exceedingly old. This leads me to suspect a little deviousness on behalf of dear old Changtai.
Some of the leaves are a deep burgundy colour
Once the leaves are separated, the presence of some distinctly red leaves may be seen in the blend. Arming myself with plenty of leaves in order to overcome what I assume will be a reticent quality of the tea, I am further surprised by a beautifully pure kuwei, ringing in the back of the throat. By the third infusion, it has developed a penetrating menthol character. The entire cake is a challenging, interesting, and highly enjoyable affair.
This is an approachable, yet delicious, tea
The seven years have been kind to this cake, as it is wrapped in a smooth envelope of warm, sweet wood. The true proportions in the blend may be easily seen by examining the leaves afterwards (shown below). Were this a purely raw shengpu, it would have lasted longer than it did - by the fourth infusion, the brewing times had to be lengthened in order to account for the tea's reduced potency. However, Changtai, even at this early stage in their history, know how to blend, and how to keep it interesting.
Some deep red, some raw and green, this is an eclectic blend that never becomes dull or impotent
A lovely experience with an elder member of the Changtai family - thanks again, Keng.
Addendum
March, 2012
Big, bitter-sweet, dark, warming, and spicy - Oriental storage demonstrating that even humble leaves can be given a touch of beauty. The potency remains excellent. Not a complex tea, but a real delight nonetheless.
