2018 Reunion Xiaguan 500 gram Da Xue Shan tea ball

 

In visiting that favorite local Bangkok Chinatown shop not long ago, Jip Eu, they mentioned having a novel version of Xiaguan product that we'd never covered in discussion.  It's a 500 gram  / half kilo ball of tea, not a tuocha or a cake, something else instead.  It's 2018 Reunion Da Xue Shan origin tea, a special production version, seemingly intended for gift-giving, now called gifting.

Why did I never hear of this, since I've bought lots of Xiaguan tuochas there before, and two versions of an older Xiaguan cake from them?  That shop works out like that.  They have different amounts of one-off teas around, and that one might've seemed like something appropriate for giving someone as a gift, versus what a sheng drinker might buy for themselves.  They even offered to let me try it after I bought it, if I was going to buy it for myself, so at least I'd have a chance to taste it, assuming I might be giving it away.

packaging was a bit extensive

extensive

The information I have on it comes from them (Jip Eu) passing on a Xiaguan site listing, which of course has been automatically translated at some point.  It says this:

Mid-Autumn Festival: Drink “Reunion Tuan Tea”

Original by Cheng Nuanru | P u’er Tea Circle

September 24, 2018

The Mid-Autumn Festival, also known as Moon Night, Autumn Festival, Mid-Autumn Day, Festival of the Eighth Month, Moon-Chasing Festival, Moon-Watching Festival, Moon-Worship Festival, Daughter’s Festival, or the Reunion Festival, is a traditional Chinese celebration...

...The 2018 Xiaguan raw Pu’er “Reunion Tuan Tea” is made from early spring big-leaf tea trees from Daxueshan, Mengku, Lincang in Yunnan Province.

It’s crafted using Xiaguan’s century-old traditional handmade techniques.

If you reverse image search it, or search using terms (which doesn't seem to work), you can find this Dragon Tea House listing.  It includes almost no information about the tea, not a good sign.  At least it seems highly unlikely that someone is pressing a 500 gram ball of tea to pass off as a counterfeit of a moderately priced real version.

I'll skip mentioning the shop cost here; that might change over time.  They tend to sell older sheng on the low side of the standard range, and for some teas there isn't a lot of standard range to work with.  I found one example of someone selling this online (that listing), for $84, and it cost less than that.

Expectations related to aging transition and potential are interesting; a 2018 Xiaguan version shouldn't be ready yet, typically.  But then this may not have standard Xiaguan character, the rough edges, harsh intensity, and barnyard range character.  I'll say more about potential issues with it coming straight out of a storage space in the review notes.

Review:

#1:  on the light side; I didn't use a rinse, so this is just getting started.  Flavor range is interesting, smooth and layered.  Tones are warm, maybe even beyond what I'd expect for a 7 year old version.  It will be clearer next round though.

#2:  it's in an interesting place for being in between where it was and where it's headed for fermentation input and result.  It's intense, but without the typical Xiaguan barnyard flavors, which must relate to a different source origin.  This clearly wasn't light, flavorful, approachable, and sweet as boutique sheng can be earlier on; it still has a lot of power, and some bitterness and astringency.

The flavors are hard to break down to a list.  Mineral stands out, but as usual I see that as more of a base for the rest.  Earthiness could relate to wood or even dried mushroom.  That sounds worse than I would intend; it's complex and balanced, not overpowered by some off flavor, but it's not really centered on floral range, or the like.  Sometimes sheng can loosen up and shift a good bit over the next few infusions; the next one or two might tell a different story.  I'll have to keep infusion times short to keep intensity in check; this is a strong tea.

#3:  it might be musty tones that I'm picking up, possibly as much from a storage conditions input as the tea itself.  Jip Eu's storage is surely very hot and humid (all of Bangkok is), and relatively tightly sealed, so that tea straight from there has picked up some significant mustiness.  That usually fades, but it takes time, a month or two.  I'm not sure if the conditions and that input are a bad thing, neutral, or actually good.  Adding more air exchange to their storage area would resolve that in one sense, but that may cost the tea stored there intensity, removing more of what gives it flavor.  For well-sealed teas it wouldn't matter (sealed oolongs stored there); I mean for sheng, left open enough to access some air contact.  This was stored in what I take to be a muslin cotton bag, inside a box, with no plastic wrapper or bag layer, as is more common.  It would've contacted external scents all the more for that.

Flavor is still kind of clean; it's a bit of a contradiction.  There is that one edge, but beyond that nothing off, earthy, musty, or so on.  It's not really vegetal, at least not as much as is common with sheng still going through the first half or so of its aging cycle.  I'd have expected some residual floral range, but there's not much, and it hasn't transitioned to the standard dried fruit, medicinal herb, camphor, and incense spice ranges.  But it seems to have potential to develop in lots of directions.  There is a lot going on, a lot of complexity and intensity, I'm just failing to describe it.

#4:  it's cleaning up; a good sign.  It's not overly musty, not exactly tasting as if it had been in an attic or basement, but it had been in a storage area that should resemble attic background scent range.  The flavor could seem to imply either aged hardwood, in an unusual vegetal range, or on to rich dried fruit, or medicinal herb, or all of those things, maybe even including some incense spice.  I think I'm trying it right between it's early character and the aged version.  It certainly didn't "go quiet," as people describe as one possible outcome, but it's covering range that doesn't necessarily make sense together.

Some might read this as a negative assessment, but to me the opposite is implied.  It's in a great to place to develop into very interesting and positive range over the next 7 or 8 years.  Sure that could seem like awhile, but time passes quickly.  That would be a rushed version of the process, for a tea like this to be essentially ready at around 15 years into aging.  The hot and humid storage input has definitely rushed things along.

As I keep tasting it tobacco would be a reasonable interpretation, I suppose tasting like a cigar instead of cigarette or chewing tobacco.  That ties to this being anchored in earlier vegetal character and now moving on to richer, transitioned, warmer tones.  I would guess that in just 5 years it won't taste a lot like tobacco, mushroom, or attic, that it will have moved on to whatever other transitioned range instead.  There is still no "barnyard" range developing; it doesn't really taste like leather, cured hay, aged wood, or smoke.

#5:  it keeps getting better.  Sweetness picks up, and that distinctive mustiness is fading.  I think with two months of aging it will be less of an input, and I could tell better where this is going, but it's so far from it's final more-fermented form that it would only be so informative.  I think this tea is going to be wonderful in a half dozen years, and maybe fully at its peak in another 10.  It might be fine to drink through it in 7 or 8, close enough, but then it's always a judgment call finishing tea right before it's fully ready.  I might need to buy another of these, to own a full kilogram, to be able to keep sampling and also have plenty later on.

#6:  there might be more story to tell over the next half dozen infusions, but lots of round by round notes will be too much.  This still tastes in between cured and aged wood, and like tobacco, with complexity that is hard to place filling in from there.  It's not really bitter and astringent in relation to younger sheng range but there is some bitterness and astringency remaining; this started out as really intense tea.  It has lots of potential to keep changing.

#7:  sappiness of feel ramps up, and to some extent a related flavor.  It leans a little more towards pine now.  I suppose brewing a dried pine cone might taste like this.  It's interesting that this keeps changing, but one might expect that, given the earlier intensity.

#8:  more of the same, more minor transition.  It's definitely not losing intensity.  I'll cut off the note-taking here; a minor transition or two won't change much.

Conclusions:

I liked it.  The in-between fermentation ranges issue and mustiness from being direct from storage did stand out, related to how it is right now.  In terms of only how the experience is right now the 2006 tuocha version I tried not long ago is a good bit better.  It's harder to place longer term potential though; I think this might be good even before the general 20 year old age range, which doesn't come up for another 13 years.  In another 7 it might be in a good place, related to hot and humid conditions rushing that process, even though a more final form will probably level off in another 10 or so.

That raises a couple of questions.  Would it better if you stored it in a cooler and dryer place for 20 years, or 25, instead of rushing the process over 14 years here, or maybe on towards 20?  Maybe.  To be clear everywhere but Malaysia is a considerably cooler and dryer place, including Hong Kong.  Taiwan and Guangdong get mentioned as places with moderate storage conditions, which some describe as ideal, but then that interpretation mixes in some marketing spin.

One might also question if this storage settling period I've been mentioning, a month or two to drop out a lot of initial mustiness, is different than the version relating to letting a tea rest after shipping.  I see it as different and unrelated, but it may overlap more than I know, and correcting for storage conditions input may often be a part of that other rest period.  People rest sheng that has been shipped for a few weeks, or a month, to let it settle from being shipped, with variations in humidity and temperature said to throw off character a little, temporarily.  It's usually described as it seeming a little flat, losing some intensity, which comes back when it normalizes to more standard conditions.  This is about a mustiness fading instead.

Everyone has their own take on how storage issues work out, and since preferences also vary the conclusions are never completely identical.  I just saw a Reddit post about a guy storing tea in a wooden cabinet, without any plastic or mylar coverage of the cakes, just in the paper, all mixed together, at whatever temperature and humidity he lived at, in the Midwest of the US.  That's probably fine, but for some others it wouldn't be, maybe for different reasons.  

It makes a lot of difference if you are drinking through cakes in a couple of years, or a few, or holding onto them for a decade or longer.  I might use individual wrapping to limit air contact instead, the ziplock style bags cakes come in or the like, but that's not a critique, just a statement about personal approach.  If you open the cakes from time to time that's already plenty of air exchange, and probably even if you leave them sort of sealed for a few years it's still enough.  Mylar or multi-layer packaging restricts any air exposure better, but ziplock or the other light plastic wrappings, similar to food wraps, would allow for plenty of contact.  

According to the author of the Late Steeps blog--a great reference--air contact related to tea being sealed in mylar allows enough oxygen contact / exchange to support bacteria and fungus to thrive, one related consideration.  Who really knows, but it's interesting to consider.  Again all of these considerations really only kick in if you aren't actually drinking the tea at all, not even getting it out a couple times a year to check on it.

the chunk that came off in one pu'er knife stroke; it's nice that it's easy to access

Tea Side 2021 "Chocolate Noir" small batch shu pu'er

 

I've written about Tea Side small batch shu / shou pu'er before.  It was exceptional.  Valerie of Tea Side recently mentioned finding some of an old batch that is also exceptional.  "Old" here means 4 years old; that's always relative.  A year or two is plenty to air out most shu, to get most of the fermentation effects to settle.  In some cases longer might make a positive difference.  Four years is definitely suitable.

The backstory:  Tea Side experimented with making small-batch, basket fermented shu some years ago.  Typical shu processing involves wet-piling a lot of tea, maybe tons, in a large room environment.  Small batch shu isn't unheard of; they definitely didn't invent that theme.  In theory it can produce very novel results, where larger batch processing is oriented towards achieving a standardized positive result.

I considered tasting this in comparison with another exceptional shu version, which might have shed more light on it, but to save time and keep this simple I won't.  Maybe I can refer to the other range of shu I've tried from memory.  I've reviewed a couple of very exceptional versions this year, one from Vietnam (really an anomaly), and another a great version from Farmerleaf, of course a Yunnan pu'er.  

[Later edit:  this was distinctive enough that comparing it to other versions or making general quality level assessments didn't seem so relevant, so I didn't].

Review:

1:  yep, there is dark chocolate.  Impressions and interpretations can vary, so maybe someone could make it through a whole tasting without placing that, but when you expect that it stands out quite a bit.  This is roughly as good as shu tends to get, sweet, complex, and balanced.  It will pick up intensity on the second round, once it's fully wetted, but it's already good.  Of course there is a pronounced mineral layer beneath the dark chocolate / cacao.  I'll save the rest of the breakdown for next round.

Sometimes I don't mention parameters, but I might as well.  Of course I've not measured an amount, but this looks to be 7 or so grams to me, a good bit, but not maxed out for a 100 ml gaiwan.  Water is hot, but not full boiling point, since I'm using a filtered version that is heated by a hot water dispenser, which wouldn't quite make it to that temperature.  Transferring it through a thermos would drop out a little more heat.  I brewed that for 15 seconds or so, and this next round a little longer, although shorter would also work. 

2:  Marshmallow really ramps up in this.  I've encountered that a half dozen or so times in trying teas, and it's pretty much always really pleasant, as nice an herbal input as one generally encounters.  To me this tastes more like marshmallow than cacao / chocolate at this point, but both are there.  I've included some background on the plant input that marshmallow is copying, or originally included, which is exactly what you'd expect, the root of a plant that grows in marshes used to make a candy version similar to but different from our modern marshmallow form.  If memory serves it was used more as a thickener than for the taste, but both could be pleasant together.

The flavor list seems a bit short, even though this comes across as complex.  It includes marshmallow, cacao, and limited dark-toned mineral.  Some of those warm tones resemble a really light roasted coffee.  Of course it's not bitter, astringent, or harsh in any way, instead smooth and rich.  Sweetness level is nice; the rest combines better for that being present.

3:  I'm brewing this a bit faster, around 15 seconds, mostly to experience variation, if that comes up.  One thing I might've already mentioned is that there is a particular sweetness and flavor to clumps of tea that form in the wet-piling process, called cha tou, or tea heads, and this resembles that particular sweetness and flavor.  For people who haven't tried that it wouldn't necessarily be informative, but if you like shu it should make your list of things to get to.  

There isn't that much variation in shu to try, so I'll list out what I see as other types or themes here.  Small-batch versions can be different, like this one.  High buds content versions taste different, and can be pleasant, sometimes referred to as Gong Ting grade, or imperial or palace grade.  Aged lower fermentation level shu is another type that is valued, often sold as CNNP / Zhongcha versions from the late 90s or early 2000s, usually as bricks instead of cakes.  There are lots of claims about gushu shu, or versions made from desirable material locations, even up to range like Bing Dao, but those claims can be hard to place.  One might try something offered as from a decent Jing Mai source, and let the more exotic range go, since it could be fake more often than real.

This round is slightly less intense for being brewed faster but it's still quite intense.  Aftertaste expression actually increases, for whatever reason, and it might seem a little sweeter.  Thickness of feel and complexity drop a little, brewed less strong.  Flavor range doesn't vary so much; only the balance or proportions of the prior list shift.  Marshmallow is really strong, but that was probably true last round too.

There may be one type-typical description of the cha tou / tea clumps / tea heads standard flavor that I'm missing, a different way to place that.  It's so bright, sweet, and complex that it leans a little towards tangerine flavor, but it's definitely not that.  Like vanilla?  That seems to work better.

4:  Not so different, but a bit more intense and complex.  Since I'm describing this as tasting like cacao and marshmallow one might wonder if it tastes like a s'more.  It does.  I don't think much of the graham cracker carries over, but that's probably still open to interpretation.  

This is already about as much as I'm going to interpret, without trying another half dozen rounds to explain later stage transitions, which would occur.  This already covers the basic, early infusions, main flavors.  Earthy range will probably pick up as this needs to be stretched a bit more to get the same intensity.  Brighter, lighter cacao and marshmallow should keep fading, but probably not that much over the next 3 or 4 rounds, only in the later stage.

As for conclusions, it's pretty good.  The way they describe it works; it's distinctive, complex, pleasant, and exceptional.  It's as good as shu gets.  Related to value or fair cost range people would have to place that for themselves; options and pricing ranges vary from different kinds of vendors.  

It's hard for me to relate to the very highest quality and most distinctive style range of shu, or for that matter for any tea type.  Different versions out there, of different types, sell for $1 a gram or more, but typical shu range is at the opposite extreme, or more in the middle for the best versions.  It's interesting checking Tea Side's listing and seeing where it falls, and how they describe it:

2021 “Chocolate Noir II: A Long-Forgotten Stash” Craft Ripe Pu-erh Tea ($22 for 50 grams)

This shou pu-erh I crafted from old Thai trees, averaging around 300 years in age—the very same material I always used for "Raspberry Pine." The fermentation was completed on December 5, 2021. And the tea then went off into aging to develop the right, well-rounded profile.

Over the following year, I checked in on it regularly, but wasn’t quite happy with the flavor. So I shelved the box higher up in our warehouse and, honestly, forgot about it. After 3.5 years of storage, it resurfaced during an inventory check—and now, I’m completely satisfied with the profile.

This tea unfolds gradually, requiring water as hot as you can get it, and a generous steeping time. We didn’t separate tea heads from loose leaves: the leaves infuse fast, while the heads maintain excellent steeping durability.

The dry aroma is classic—slightly salty, woody. Once rinsed, the scent transforms into soft, sweet woodiness, with notes of chocolate and raspberry jam.

The flavor profile is smooth, dense, and even: teak wood, a solid chocolate body, and a pleasant coffee-like bitterness finishing each sip.

This shou distinctly recalls our “Chocolate Noir”, which was produced later, from different material and slight adjustments in processing. Over years of aging, the raspberry-berry nuances have faded, replaced by a harmonious, rounded fusion of chocolate and wood. However, if your nose is keen, you might still detect faint traces of berry jam in its fragrance.

The aftertaste is lovely: like a childhood chocolate candy, with the gentlest touch of coffee.

It probably would've been better using the hottest possible water, instead of in the 90-some C range, as I brewed it.

It's interesting that I did mention chocolate (also in the marketing) and coffee in this, leaving out reference to jam or dried fruit, and adding that it tasted a good bit like marshmallow to me, and maybe just a little like vanilla.  Interpretations would always vary; that's normal.  The general impression seems about the same.

If someone was open to spending nearly 50 cents a gram on a shu I guess this version might justify that as well as any.  It's probably as good as any shu version I've ever tried, and I've tried a lot, some presented as exceptional.  Still it's just shu.  I never could relate to people focusing on that type range as a primary preference, but then preferences do vary.  

Even for people not so interested in the type it might make sense to buy a little to see what the high end / most distinctive range is all about.  I probably wouldn't, but then having a tight tea budget narrows a lot of choices down to very few.  I wouldn't buy sheng for 40-some cents a gram either, and that kind of offering is a lot more common.

Ez Teasy (Singapore based) Qimen red / black and Jin Xuan oolong

 

I've recently met a tea enthusiast from Singapore, through social media contact, talking about tea and exchanging some samples here in Bangkok.  He's also a very small scale vendor, selling under the brand / business name Ez Teasy.  There may be no online sales site to reference, but he does have an Instagram page.  It probably wouldn't hurt to at least mention his name, but given how some people are about online privacy I'll leave even that out.

It would've been interesting comparing the pricing level of these two teas with each other, and in relation to the quality of the tea, but that's fine, it's not really necessary.  He passed on a good version of black tea, a Qimen, a decent Jin Xuan, and a couple of green teas, with this only covering the first two.

I'll skip saying much about his philosophy of tea, or other background we discussed.  The short version is that he thinks appreciating good tea doesn't have to be a difficult, complicated, gear-intensive process, requiring formal training or a long learning curve.  I definitely agree with that.  Pretty much all tea enthusiasts think that plain, ordinary, unadjusted teas have a lot to offer, in comparison with tin-presented flavored tea blends, which might stand out more in specialty grocery store aisles.  On with trying two versions of those.

Of course it makes no sense doing a combined tasting of two unrelated tea versions.  I'm in the habit of doing combined tastings mostly to save time, to get to more, and after doing that dozens of times it's a familiar experience, and doesn't take much away from focusing on one, or comparing two similar versions, which would actually make sense.

Review:

Qimen:  it's quite good, but you could pretty much guess that from the appearance alone.  It's made of buds and very fine leaves, so that it resembles some versions of Jin Jun Mei, the ones that include both kinds of content, which some people claim aren't an authentic style.  Flavor range isn't so far off Jin Jun Mei; this could be that.  That comes in a range of styles, and it would be like a more typical black tea version, than the buds-only versions that taste like beeswax and honey.

This does seem to include a bit of honey and beeswax flavor range.  It's complex enough that it's hard to specify what the main flavors are, because there is a lot going on, even though it's all integrated, and entirely pleasant.  From there one might guess about dried fruit, or focus on a mineral layer.  A warm tone is a little bit savory, not so much that sun-dried tomato comes to mind, but along that line.  Cacao would be a reasonable interpretation, even describing that as a main flavor not, or the main one.  I won't brew a stronger infusion next round--lengthening infusion time--but the tea might open up a bit, showing even more, even without being brewed stronger.

Jin Xuan:  not fully opened up yet, but there's enough intensity to see how this will be.  It's a good version of Jin Xuan.  Creaminess is the main aspect in such a version, typically, at least for a version without much for roast or oxidation, and this is nice and creamy.  Remaining range is typically sweet, floral, and rich in feel.  This covers all of that.  Vegetal range can be regarded as negative, although if someone loves that it can be neutral or positive.  This includes some; vegetal range is on par with floral tones in this early and light round.  We'll see how it evolves as it opens up.

Qimen, #2:  intensity jumped quite a bit, even though I'm using a fast infusion time.  It would've made sense to go with a lower proportion for a tea like this, to offset that to compensate for what was going to be high intensity, but of course I didn't.  4 or 5 grams would be plenty, and this sample only had 7 or so in it, so I went with that amount.

Warm tones come out stronger, good sweetness, and what I interpret as bark spice and rich dried fruit.  Cacao is still a main inclusion.  Rich feel is nice in this, and the aftertaste from all that trailing over.  This is a pretty good example of this style of black tea.  It would be hard to find better.  The only time I've had Qimen even vaguely like this was when Dylan of the Sweetest Dew sent me a few versions to try.

Then it's harder to place this in relation to my preference.  For someone who loves this style this would be fantastic, but I've always loved Dian Hong more than Jin Jun Mei, or good unsmoked Lapsang Souchong, which this is closer to, maybe especially the first.  Or it could seem to be in between the two in style, combining aspects from both (from good versions of both).  I like it, and I can appreciate it, but I might love a version of something else that's at the same quality level more.  

Lots of Dian Hong (Yunnan black) ends up being a bit basic though, lacking this kind of intensity and complexity, and especially refinement, so even though I love that style it tends to fall short of this quality level.  Which can still be fine; it's not a problem to appreciate more basic tea experience, if you are on that page.  You don't need intensity, complexity, refinement, finish / aftertaste, and all the rest at a high level.  I suspect that a lot of Dian Hong might be produced from summer harvest material that's not as suitable for making sheng pu'er, drawing on the least potential version of what is ever harvested, but that's more a guess than an informed assessment.

A hint of sourness might be the only flaw or limitation.  I don't always notice such a thing, because I don't mind it at all at that level of input, but for people more sensitive to it, opposed to it, it could seem like more of a limitation.  To me it just matches the rest of the style.

Jin Xuan, #2:  Richness and creaminess are very nice; again vegetal flavor range standing out just a little more than floral tones might be the main limitation for this version.  To some that would be something of a deal-breaker, and to others I'd be splitting hairs, and this could seem like exceptional tea.  It's clean in flavor effect, and bright, with good intensity, good sweetness, rich feel (which could always be stronger, but it's ok on the scale of that), and decent butteriness.  Real Jin Xuan never tastes exactly like butter, more just a bit creamy, as this does.  I have limited or perhaps no experience with fake flavored versions.

Qimen, #3:  depth keeps picking up; this is probably as far as that could go.  It's nice the way that cacao grounds the rest, and there's so much going on beyond that.  It's smooth and clean, intense and complex, even moderately refined.  

I've been drinking through a lot of Thai origin Dian Hong style black tea that includes a comparable level of sourness, that I really love.  I could drink it every other day, and never get tired of it.  Huyen, my friend from Vietnam, visited and tried that tea, and I think liked it, but was not as familiar with the Assamica based tea range, so it wasn't as natural a fit for her preference.  The sourness seemed to stand out to her as more negative than it did to me.  I'm still seeing this as more a match to that other range, to Jin Jun Mei and Lapsang Souchong.

Jin Xuan, #3:  creaminess really stands out, but that might be staying consistent.  Warm mineral undertones seem to pick up a bit.  Those often stand out more in a #17 / Bai Lu / Ruan Zhi plant type based version.  This is as creamy as Jin Xuan typically get, but flavor range could be a little sweeter, including a bit more floral range.  It's still quite nice.  If you buy random Thai oolong in a tea shop or Royal Project shop it probably wouldn't be quite this good, even though there is surely better quality range out there.  Intensity might not match this, and creaminess could be less pronounced, even though the basic flavor range has more room for improvement.

Qimen, #4:  not really changing.  There probably was some shift in the proportion of what I've already described but you need to be really focused in to pick up on that sort of variation.  Doing a combined, unrelated tea tasting throws that off, as does background noise, and there's a bit of that in the house today.  The kids are here, and I just checked on the cat, and Eye is around preparing for something.

Jin Xuan:  more of the same.  To me this is quite pleasant, even though it's only sort of an upper-medium quality level, with lots of room for improvement.  It covers the basics well, with decent flavors, good intensity, feel, and creaminess.  It's clean, doesn't include flaws (beyond limitations), and is drinkable.  This would be a really good breakfast tea, or might work especially well cold-brewed, since that draws out the most sweetness a tea has to offer, leaving behind astringency, even though this doesn't have a problem with that.

It's interesting how one of these, the Qimen, represents an exceptional quality of a tea type you just never see, and the other is a basic, standard version, to me.  In Thailand most oolong is #12 (Jin Xuan) or #17 (Bai Lu or Ruan Zhi), although there are others, and Jin Xuan is common enough out of Taiwan.  I suppose the Qimen should be priced a good bit higher as a result; it could cost twice as much as the oolong, and that would still be fair.  In terms of how much I like both they're on more even ground.  The types and styles are completely different but I like both about the same. 

That could seem odd, since the Qimen is definitely a higher quality example, and I drink black tea as a secondary choice in relation to sheng pu'er now.  Rolled oolongs have a basic, broad appeal to me; they're easy to appreciate.  I'm not sure why I never drink them.  I guess it might be that black tea serves as a good alternative to sheng, quite removed in style, so that limiting most of my tea experience to both works well.  Of course I keep trying other things, for review, and just checking in with other teas I have around.  I've drank quite good Dan Cong and good basic Liu Bao in the last week, re-connecting with the rest of my tea collection, which I left behind living in Honolulu for 2 1/2 months.

I think black tea is probably the most suitable as a breakfast tea, but then this Jin Xuan version would also work, and I don't feel like I'm missing anything drinking sheng pu'er most days.  Some people would connect both with different climate inputs, but I can drink all three here in the ridiculously hot weather in Bangkok.  I did ice down the coffee I just drank yesterday afternoon; that's novel, but also sort of a different subject.  I sometimes drink iced jasmine green tea here, the inexpensive, basic version that comes in those dark orange tins.  But this is tangent after tangent!

These teas were really nice, distinctive and pleasant in two different ways.  The Qimen represents the best of a type and style range well, and the Jin Xuan doesn't quite as much, but both were pleasant to drink (to me).