2005 Yichanghao "Zhengpin"

My erstwhile chum, Yichanghao. Yet perhaps not entirely erst, for you keep on delivering solid, reliable treats at a very decent price.

Ladies and mentlegen, I give you the 2005 Zhengpin.

As far as Yichanghao goes, Jipin < Zhenpin < Jingpin < Zhengpin.  Despite drinking "YCH" whenever my grubby, clammy hands can grab a sample, I haven't had a great deal of Zhengpin, the flagship product.  By the time of the 2009 version, the recipe was taking a turn for the red, and yet cakes from ages past seem to rely less on cheeky pre-oxidation and more on a solid blend of decent leaves.

As shown above, the leaves are fragmented and dark - although certainly less fragmented than in the lesser recipes.  I am surprised by a distinct lack of aroma in the dry leaves.

This character, oddly enough, continues in the cup.  It cannot be said to have a significant density of flavour, and yet it does have a big, fat body and a dominant presence in the mouth.  It is a fascinating thing: light in character (being mainly pinewood), and yet thick, sweet, and satisfying.

This sample was generously provided by Daniel, of The Chinese Teashop of Vancouver.  In months past, I mentioned that I had queued up a half-dozen samples or so, only to find that the postage was a huge amount; this has since been remedied, and the store looks entirely appealing in its range and pricing (certainly on the Western scale).

This cake currently sells for an entirely reasonable $45.  There isn't a huge amount that one can find of any quality from 2005 for less than that price, and this does a very good job of keeping my attention throughout the session.

Caveat emptor: I am a confessed Yichanghao fanboy.  If you like their products to a lesser degree, then temper my enthusiasm at the appropriate heat.

Smoke Stacks

smoke stacks

dragging the clouds

down to earth

2003 Menghai "Jiaji" Tuocha

Where would I be without the generosity of teachum from Singapore, Keng?

Significantly thirstier, I suspect.

The "tiangan" [heaven stems] is an ancient scheme for counting - for example, animal years.  The first to fourth are, respectively, jiaji, yiji, bingji, and dingji.  Therefore, this tuocha is supposedly rather good.

At the time of writing, it is a sunny late afternoon on Sunday.  Having completed today's household tasks, I sit down to a rare afternoon tea-session, with the all-important blessing of my dear wife.  I've hinted that life has been somewhat crazed and bizarre of late, with me undergoing various interviews - and this process is still dragging on.  Hence, drinking tea is becoming a real luxury, and one that I intend to enjoy to its full.

 

Unlike lower grades of tuocha from Menghai and Xiaguan, you may see from the photographs that the leaves in this little fellow are longer and more whole than we might otherwise expect.  After drinking all manner of weird and wonderful samples lately (more on which later), I revert to the hardcore, reliable pleasures of Good Old Menghai.

The leaves have darkened, and have a crisp, woody aroma.  The storage of wheverever it is that Keng is buying all this lovely tea really is top notch.  I remain hopeful that the UK will be equally kind to our tea.

It is a mighty tuocha, much larger than the usual variety.  The dusky orange soup that you may see above is already heading towards redness, and has a heavy, tar-like, sweet aroma.

In the mouth, it is woody, wonderfully sharp, clean, and particularly mouth-watering.  My skin tingles as the tea pushes its way through my physiology.  It causes the blood vessels in my mouth to pulsate noticeably.

Three cheers for Keng - a delicious tea that is aging extremely well.  I am certainly hoping to buy some of these.