Sheng pu'er aging transition patterns: bringing it all together

 

I've been writing a good bit about this subject lately, related to trying a couple more sample sets.  But it has been a running theme for the past decade or so, even though I really only completely switched over to mostly drinking sheng pu'er within that time, maybe something like 8 years ago.

I still only guess about transition patterns, and the effects of varying storage environments on teas of different character, expressing different aspects.  But I've been guessing about it for a long time, based on varying exposure.  I first bought sheng right around the time I started this blog, maybe within a year of then, so I've been dabbling in that exploration for around a dozen years (or looking back the first post about sheng pu'er was 13 years ago).  

It's interesting thinking back to how badly some of those initial trials went, the earliest of which wouldn't have been covered here (although buying that one cake 13 years ago was an early venture).  It's no wonder lots of people don't like sheng early on, given how new factory teas or bad versions can go.

I'll separate this out by individual topics to make them approachable.  These won't be in any particular order, maybe starting with more of what comes up first, and some of what I like best.  

The context that I've been trying two different sample sets recently is interesting; that never goes exactly how I expect.  One was from a favorite vendor, mostly newish versions of "gushu" from a Swiss vendor, Tea Mania, and the other was known Yunnan area versions from a Malaysian vendor, of even more varying age, with storage occurring there adding an interesting twist.  Final outcome is always complicated, and in between 3 and 4 years or 15 to 20 there's a broad range of fermentation levels that make less sense, that vary a lot by starting point.  It would be nice if I could summarize that more clearly than I'm able to.

wet versus dry versus natural storage:  this is really a better topic for an entire 1500 word post on the one storage conditions input.  But I'm limiting this discussion to quickly framing a lot of related inputs, so it makes sense to only add a little about it here.  I don't necessarily think that cooler and dryer storage is really a bad thing, but that kind of environment does preserve tea, slowing it from changing in any way.  Maybe a slow, gradual change is better under some circumstances, and there might be typical negative trade-offs related to that, other aspect input experienced as less favorable.  A limited sourness or cardboard flavor can come up in dry-stored teas, but long-term storage in cardboard boxes may be a part of that.  

For factory tea, aggressive, intense, unapproachable tea that really needs at least 15 years to be approachable, more humid storage is better.  The effect of temperature can be a bit complicated; reading up on some Late Steeps blog post experiments on that is interesting.  I think teas I keep in Bangkok change fast and change differently because of both the humidity and the heat, but I can't really break that down, even to the extent he does there based on testing.  The heat might cause heavier flavor range to emerge, just to add something.

I've not really said much about more conventional cases; what about boutique style teas, or factory teas that aren't as clearly in need of lots of transition, as a Dayi 7542 cake or Xiaguan tuo demand?  How variations of styles and character age in general is a bit complicated, and my own guesses aren't much of a clearly acceptable baseline.  I'll add more about types and get back to those later on.

factory tea:  this is what people encounter first, not my own main preference.  Dayi / 
Taetea 7542 is a main example (a "recipe" number), and Xiaguan tuocha versions I see as the other main example (and the cakes they produce).  This general style, as much as it represents one, typically requires a full 20 years of aging to enter a pleasant and drinkable range, and under conventional conditions 30 years might be better.  You can get away with rushing that when hot and humid storage conditions rush the process, as occurs here in Bangkok, or someone maintaining high humidity in a cooler place would work, just not in the same way.  I think the faster transitions happen the better for these teas, since in cooler and dryer storage they may not be well-transitioned even after 30 years.

The change is what people expect, what they think of related to pu'er transition in general:  harsh, astringent, bitter and intense general character gives way to smoother, deeper, warmer tones, that is much more drinkable.  There is no partially aged stage that also makes sense for most factory teas, in general, as occurs for versions that can be exceptional with some rough edges smoothed out, after "only" 3 to 5 years of limited change.  Then again that's probably a statement about my own preference, over-extended a bit related to what could possibly occur.  There was just a Reddit thread about someone liking some 5 year old Dayi 7542, and that preference opinion isn't invalid.

nearly 20 year old Xiaguan, aging fast due to storage time in Bangkok

A truism comes up that aging won't turn bad tea into good tea.  This can be taken as meaning completely different things, all of which may only apply to a limited extent.  One potential meaning is that if a tea tastes bad originally it may never recover from being of bad quality (which already mixes different inputs as assumptions).  A limitation of this is that aging potential doesn't necessarily always relate to a tea being approachable when young; factory teas are the main counter-example of this.  Another factor is that maybe being approachable when young relates to good aging potential, and maybe it doesn't.  Considering the relatively opposite style of sheng categories can help place this.

drinkable when young pu'er:  this is the opposite extreme.  It's not really a single, unified category, because sheng can be more drinkable for a number of different reasons.  Autumn harvest versions can lack intensity, or more wild origin material can seem quite different, less bitter and astringent, and quite flavorful.  Processing variations could lead towards this general nature, but the result wouldn't be the same as when these other two causes were primary.  Breaking this range down by these distinct inputs makes sense, even when they would tend to combine, and not enter in as just one input.

Some areas tend to produce much more drinkable versions, probably related to a combined set of these kinds of inputs (plant genetics, local climate input, typical growing conditions, and processing choices).  Yiwu area teas might be interpreted as mostly sweet, approachable, and floral, but saying that brings in a limitation and risk of over-generalizing:  that's a broad area, and the teas would surely vary a lot from different places there.  That general pattern might often hold because expectations have evolved in that direction, again for different reasons.  Then it wouldn't necessarily have to be accurate.

autumn harvest versions:  spring teas are typically more intense, often more flavorful (range is greater, not just intensity), and are more desirable.  They'll often have more aging potential, and can reach favorable intermediate age stages that work out better, in some circumstances.  So why drink autumn tea?  Mainly because it costs less.  Sometimes a vendor will obtain and sell a highly in-demand origin area tea version from the autumn, because they have trouble finding a version they can afford to buy and resell from the spring.  Once their applied mark-up involves trying to sell a tea at over $1 a gram they might naturally see market demand as a likely problem.

Could an autumn harvest version be more favorable in some way, beyond just being less intense?  This goes beyond my experience range to answer.  Those kinds of absolutes seem to never fully hold up, but you don't hear much about exceptions either.  It brings to mind a Chinese Wuyi Yancha producer describe how they never do more than one harvest per year for their teas (from their plants), because the cost is too high related to offsetting positive character of the tea and general intensity.  I think pu'er material sources are often harvested three times a year, twice for pu'er, in the spring and fall, and once in the summer for making black tea, although who knows, maybe that's completely wrong.  I'm passing on standard hearsay.

wild origin / varying genetic material teas:  this mixes two radically different inputs that tend to go together, growing conditions and plant types.  It's hard to say why a tea plant growing in the midst of other types of trees would produce more flavorful, more distinctive, and less intense and less challenging tea.  Maybe a lot of shading would reduce intensity.  Maybe plants do carry over flavors of what is growing around them (this generality is often repeated).  It could be that plantation tea tends to be more managed, weeded, and fertilized, the types of inputs that allow plants to grow at maximum speed and produce a lot of leaf compounds.  Who knows.  

We tend to want one or two causes to explain any given thing but in the real world a mix of lots of inputs can enter in.  Maybe it works out that monoculture oriented, high volume production plantations are often located at lower elevation, and more natural gardens higher up, and this one input alone changes things.

Genetic variation of tea plants is an even more complicated subject.  Some plants probably would interbreed with other Assamica or Taliensis versions, as people often speculate.  Just the normal range of variation of genetics by different locations is hard to place. 

effect of varying pressed forms on tea aging:  there isn't as much effect as one might expect.  A very tightly packed tuocha, or larger well-pressed cake, probably would age slower than a smaller, looser packed cake.  I've not seen much speculation about how dragonballs or tea coins age differently, but in general those aren't as favorable for brewing for other reasons, per my experience.  Maocha, loose versions, could potentially age a little faster, but it's still much more standard for vendors to carry and sell pressed versions.  

Related to shapes like dragonballs and tea coins, you end up taking 4 or 5 rounds to get all the material wetted, so you are brewing the outer material well into the transition cycle before the stuff in the middle gets started.  That still works, but out at 10 infusions in or so you have relatively spent material having been infused for longer than normal, to push the pace of wetting the inside, and to get enough intensity out of a fraction of the tea in early rounds.  So that starts contributing characteristic bitterness and off flavor before the infusion cycle ends, maybe green wood, as brewed-out sheng still produces well past 10 rounds.

This is more about aging, and I'm not sure how that would be different.  It might age faster in small forms, since most of the material is relatively near an edge.  For a hard-pressed dragonball maybe that's not as true.  A loosely pressed 357 gram cake might afford a lot more air contact exposure.  It makes sense to me that vendors have moved on to pressing everything a bit less tightly, making the tea easier to access, and potentially enabling more uniform fermentation.

optimum fermentation transition range for different types of tea:  this comes down to preference, as everything does.  Some people might only love well-aged sheng.  To me for factory teas, of a conventional style range, those really do work much better fully aged, so it's on to considering a now more dominant style range, more whole-leaf, higher quality, often narrow origin sourced (versus blended) range of teas.  Sometimes these are referred to as boutique style teas, but people probably mean different things by that reference.  Some would fold in quality concerns, not just style.  Some of these can be much more drinkable when young, and intermediate aging levels may make more sense, drinking them new, or within 3 or 4 years.

There are too many variables and potential outcomes to frame it all as being that simple though.  To me, as a general rule, a high level of bitterness and pronounced astringency, a rough feel versus fullness and richness, are the kinds of starting points that enable positive transitions, and to the extent these are very pronounced maybe more transition could be better for a tea.  I've kind of already said that, and this is more about the opposite range.

People sometimes criticize young sheng for being unapproachable (typically early on in their exploration), which could relate to different things.  Maybe they're just not acclimated to any bitterness yet, or a significant level.  Rough astringency feel can correspond with broken leaf or lower quality material; that's usually not so pleasant.  It's funny hearing different descriptions for off flavors in young sheng, like describing it as tasting like kerosene.  That kind of thing might relate to a quality issue.  A brand new 7542 cake doesn't taste great, per my exposure to those at different ages, but it might not actually taste like kerosene (like it smells; people don't end up tasting that).

The generalities only go so far; to some extent you need to try different types of tea at different ages to see what you like.  Something might really click that you don't expect, doing so.  Interesting flavor changes can occur, beyond the transitions that you might come to expect.  

a few intermediate range patterns:  I've been trying teas of different ages lately, and lots of different patterns emerge.  These are higher quality, relatively whole-leaf, origin specific, relatively less blended versions, again which one could think of as "boutique" versions.  Or not, the label doesn't change much, beyond narrowing things a bit further for some people.

One pattern is that some teas just fade away after a medium-long storage time, within 15 to 20 years.  Some can lose lots of intensity within a decade, even if the character doesn't change over to a relatively aged form.  I suspect that it's not so difficult to experience and identify a range of initial aspects or character that relates to the negative or positive transitions, it's just hard for me to draw clear and conclusive links.

Another negative pattern is that some teas end up expressing off flavors, eg. tasting like wood.  This is separate from less favorable storage conditions either adding negative flavor input (eg. mustiness), or suppressing fermentation transition altogether.  In general I think a range of styles and initial aspects probably tend to link to this outcome as well.  I'm not sure it's a one-to-one mapping of what you might taste in a new tea shifting to that later; it may work out that non-standard initial character could change negatively in different ways.

Then there are a range of positive transition patterns.  This can relate first to some teas being quite pleasant after very limited transition time, maybe 2 to 3 years of storage.  Rough edges can settle, and some depth can emerge, with bitterness and astringency mellowing.  Usually flavors won't completely shift over this short a time, but teas can change a lot.  The next two ranges of concerns are more complicated, an intermediate in-between stage, where it all can make less sense, as younger and older (more transitioned) aspects mix, and then finally, after 15 to 20 years, the final aged form can emerge, which is often interesting and pleasant, but not always remotely close to optimum.

atypical processing inputs:  this relates to a theme I've encountered a lot in South East Asian teas, with sheng pu'er often more oxidized (only one pattern, that overlaps with another topic already mentioned, drinkable when young versions).  That makes it sweeter, a little warmer in tone, and more approachable, at the cost of swapping out some aging potential (my take, at least, which does tend to keep changing).  How do I know that oxidation level was higher, in any given case?  You can taste it, and also see it in browning of the leaves, often more noticeable in the stems.  

Per input from one vendor (a main one in China) this can relate to not drying the tea to a normal level at one step.  Per input from another tea producer, and a researcher, this can be a very intentional style choice.  One producer even mentioned that they add more rest time to allow for oxidation after the heating / kill-green / fixing step, which isn't something I would expect.  I would've expected a long wither and initial oxidation to be a main input instead.  I suppose both could come up, used differently by different producers.

two examples of that, subsequent years from the same Vietnamese tea producer, both young

Some of my overall favorite teas have seemingly been processed in this way.  They can be sweet, warm, fruity (which relates to different inputs), and less bitter and astringent right away, very approachable and pleasant as relatively new tea.  I've not tried much of this range of tea aged for a decade to confirm that it wouldn't age well, or maybe none at all, it can be hard to keep track, since I've not been buying and tracking aging progress for lots of tea versions for over a decade.

Some other versions don't have this included as a noticeable input (although that may be hard to identify), and those other versions can also be sweet, mild, complex in flavor, and approachable over the first year.  I have confirmed that one of my overall favorite sheng versions--from Yunnan, sold by a main vendor--was best within the first year, still ok by the second or third, and then not as positive when I tried it later on.  I suppose that could have related to a processing input I've not identified, or mostly to plant type, or some other cause.  Even when you see interesting transition patterns play out you don't always sort out a clear cause or set of causes input that explains what had happened.

If some tea versions are a blend of lots of different versions of material, balancing out initial character, offsetting flaws, making the most of positive contributions from several, then it might be quite complicated what led to what as such a tea changes over time.

If a tea version is heated too much during the kill-green / sha qing step it will just seem like green tea.  That can still be ok; I've tried a version that worked out well for.  Related to input from a vendor it's possible for a cake pressing vendor--that kind of thing can be outsourced by producers--to overheat cakes during a drying step, and a comparable effect can occur, pushing the style towards green tea.  Again it's conceivable that the outcome could be positive, but more likely that wouldn't be regarded as a positive input, by the tea producer or by a endpoint customer.

problematic teen-age middle years:  I comment on this all the time, but left it out of the initial posted version.  People often mention that there are years in between early fermentation and final aged form that just don't make sense.  The tea can come across as flavorless, or else aged and young flavors can not match together.  It's such a standard theme that just mentioning that adds nothing new to the discussion, so I'll extend this line of thinking a little.  

This can happen at different actual ages, at a different number of years, because dry and humid storage happen at different paces.  A tea can be a decade old and still express young character, when dry stored (often in Kunming, but anywhere).  Where I live, in Bangkok, natural humidity is often around 70% RH, sometimes higher, and the heat seems to change and speed up transitions as well.  Within 5 years all of the newer characteristics have transitioned, and teas take on a relatively aged character within a decade, a bit ahead of a normal schedule.  It still takes about 15-20 years for a full transition process to occur, but this can take 25 to 30 under different circumstances.

Can a tea character be positive right at this stage; could preference lead to someone liking this character?  There's no reason why not, but in general no.  Teas just don't make a lot of sense at this stage.  Some greener aspects mix with warmer tones, but it all doesn't really integrate.  Flavors can come across as muted.  Feel doesn't transition over yet, and bitterness can be at an odd level, not gone, not pronounced as when young, but not matching the level of the older, more developed, transitioned range (jujube, medicinal herb, incense or root spice, etc.).

It wouldn't even be easy for people to evaluate how the next step would go at this stage, per my experience.  With enough practice maybe to a limited degree, but it seems to me that it might be easier to identify how a tea will age within the first 5 years than in between 10 to 12.

real cases being a bit complicated:  people tend to not write meandering, overly general descriptions of this sort of range like this, because too many variables enter in for the presented ideas to be cohesive and helpful.  The last half dozen posts about sheng versions highlights how that works, but I can't really extract an extra helpful few hundred words of description to pin it all down.  When you try a half dozen teas you see a range of outcomes, snapshots at a certain point in time, but you can only ever guess about specific inputs, or next steps, the further potential.

It makes it all the harder that the goalpost is a match to personal preference, not some range of objectively desirable outcomes.  Maybe shared consensus about what is positive lets those two themes map together, to some extent, but probably variations add up to as much range as the shared space.

This can seem to contradict what some online tea discussion expresses.  People more than a decade into exploration, more experienced than me, tend to discuss tea in shared, common ways, and agree on patterns and outcomes that they prefer.  Often these people learned those preferences together, even if they weren't sitting at the same tea tables regularly.  Tea groups discussing teas tend to collect and form into informal "classes," self-sorting to end up that way.

What does this leave out?  Probably as much as it includes, with parts included on the "getting it all wrong" side.  Whatever I write I often second-guess as my opinion and understanding evolve over time.  It seemed like a good time to collect some thoughts, but these will keep changing.

I didn't commit to whether gushu material tea really will typically offer more aging potential; lots of limitations like that must be included as well.  At a guess that depends on the tea style, largely tied back to processing choices, and other factors, more so than that one plant related input (plant age).  Probably in another 10 years I'd express that completely differently.

I think people with different exposure, with more budget to throw at their sheng pu'er habit, and draw on more input from a group of fellow pu'er enthusiasts, might be onto different patterns and outcomes I've yet to experience.  Or maybe they could "poke holes" in some of what is offered here.  I never do get much feedback about writing; that part of blogging never worked out.  It's understandable; I should be part of a set of friends who explore together so that more-interested parties read the content.  Even if we've never spoken it would be interesting to hear from you, about how your experiences work out, whether they're the same or different.  Or not; the standard paradigm of just putting ideas out there has been ok for me.

If you are a vendor who has sent me samples, supporting my exploration, then many thanks for that contribution.  This wouldn't have went as well without your help.

Asking The Expert: Choosing Pu’er Tea (Michelin guide)

 

Someone commented this on a Quora post I added about a Vietnamese tea shop, some writing I did for Tea Journey magazine a year ago.  It's what the title says, a Michelin guide to pu'er from a pu'er expert.  

I'd expect some inconsistency and error in such a guide, even if written by a relative expert, and I wasn't disappointed.  Most of it was fine, but the exceptions stood out.  And what they didn't say also seemed odd; they referenced shou / shu / ripe pu'er processing, but never called it any of those names.

Since a lot of the content is good background information, and since selection of what to include or not include is a bit arbitrary, I don't want to be too negative about this source.  By highlighting what doesn't work I'll be implying that it's full of errors, and low in quality or accuracy, but it's really not.  It's just not 100% correct.  Since it also lacks clear framing, what range the ideas fall within relative to the rest of pu'er experience scope, to me it's a bit more deeply flawed, even though most of it is ok with that framing added back in.

Let's start with the intro to the author, which places it as likely to be completely reliable:

For newcomers to the tea-drinking culture, how should they select the right pu’er tea? Ann Sit from Fook Ming Tong gave us some valuable insights.

Sit is a tea sommelier and Fook Ming Tong’s general manager. She began learning about Chinese tea as a teenager, and her qualification in tea connoisseurship has been recognised by the government of Mainland China. At the moment, she dedicates her time scouring tea plantations around China to source the best teas for her customers.

Sounds good.  I don't know what Fook Ming Tong is, and that makes a lot of difference, but let's move on from that (after pointing out that the first Google search entry describes it as a Hong Kong tea shop).

What’s the distinguishing characteristic of pu’er? 

Tea leaves are mainly categorised by the degree of fermentation. The production process of pu’er involves procedures such as picking, withering, fixing, kneading, drying. In the end, it’s heaped up and stored before it gets fermented. In comparison to oolong, green tea, shoumei, tieguanyin and other tea varieties, pu’er is fermented the most. Industry professionals call it black tea or post fermented tea.

In fermentation, the stimuli in tea leaves like chlorophyll are decomposed. Pu’er is usually dark brown in colour. It tastes mild and smooth. Thanks to the long fermentation period, there’s also a deep fragrance to the tea.

At first read this is all wrong, but taken in the right way it works better.  Fermentation is a main input to pu'er, but it's not clear that she doesn't really mean oxidation here, or isn't mixing the two terms and inputs.  Pu'er isn't typically oxidized, but any background on pu'er should make it a bit clearer which process is being referenced, since fermentation is often used incorrectly to specify oxidation.

The processing steps are fine.  Kneading should really be shaping, since it's more conventional to call a different leaf bruising step in black tea processing kneading, intended to break open the plant cells to allow air contact with the cell contents, and resulting oxidation.  Pu'er is made using the other steps, then after a pan-frying fixing step it's shaped into that twisted leaf form.  It's probably not so bad to call that shaping step kneading; the different use of terms is minor.

In the next sentence, about tea types, Tie Guan Yin is a type of oolong, and Shou Mei is white tea, so it mixes types and broad categories in an odd way, but that's still fine.  Saying that pu'er is a type of hei cha--black tea, or dark tea, from the Chinese categorization system that calls oxidized teas red instead of black--sort of works, and sort of doesn't.  Some people think it's a version of that, but it's more common in China to use hei cha to designate a range of other types, like Liu Bao, Fu brick teas, and so on.  Again this is sort of splitting hairs; plenty of people use this categorization that she mentions, it's just that others wouldn't see it that way.  In "the West" people argue if sheng pu'er is really hei cha, since it's only fermented after aging input, but they seem to miss some background too, as I see it.  We can just call pu'er pu'er, and leave the broad categories out of it.

The next part skips over that sheng pu'er exists, that not all pu'er is fermented in any way.  It circles back to including that, so it's just an odd initial framing choice, to get that mostly wrong.  Really you need to read those sentences a few times to sort out what she's really saying, and later it gets more confusing when sheng and shou descriptions are mixed together in different places.

How many types of pu’er are there?

Pu’er can be roughly divided into loose tea leaves and tea cake. After fermentation, tea cakes can be made using steam and machinery to flatten. Without shaping, it would be sold as loose leaves.

Some pu’er teas can be fermented longer than others. The dry room method puts leaves in an airy space for natural fermentation. Alternatively, some tea makers would ferment the tea manually by placing it in a room with high temperature and humidity. This step is called piling. The wet room method has the tea in a humidity-controlled space to speed up fermentation.

Loose leaves or tea cake can be further categorised into many more varieties. For example, raw (sheng) or green pu’er have a shorter post-fermenting period and would display a light green colour after brewing. As for tea cakes, there are many shapes available. Tea bricks are pressed into rectangular blocks, while tuo cha carries the form of mushroom caps.

This is all more right than wrong, but the degree of error included is puzzling.  Of course someone can see the distinction of loose and pressed pu'er as primary.  Most people would see the divide between sheng / raw and shou / shu / ripe / pre-fermented tea as more fundamental, but this part is still ok.  

The piling description of pre-fermentation of shu is too far off to accept in this way.  It's piled wet, with water added, not just stored in a humid room.

The reference to a "shorter post-fermenting period" really makes no sense.  You can sell sheng as completely unaged, as soon as you make it, not fermented through ordinary storage at all, so there is no period to reference.  Just referencing post-fermentation is misleading, as if there is some other treatment step.  You just hold onto the tea.  Within one year it's not really all that age / fermentation transitioned, regardless of storage climate, and after 25 to 30 years the process is relatively complete, with other changes happening in between.

Note that the light green reference is the wetted leaf color.  Sure, they're a bit green, where shou pu'er is brownish.  The brewed liquid color would be a pale yellow, and this isn't clear on which it's referencing.  Not much brewed tea liquid is actually green, but that can come up with Japanese green tea versions.

I like this reference to mushroom caps; tuos do look like that.  Usually they're referenced as bird's nest shaped, and I guess that also works.

the bottom is sort of cupped, so from the top it just looks like a ball

In the next section she says that people new to sheng should buy loose tea, which is fine, even though that's not how it usually tends to go in practice.  The she comments this, which doesn't work:

A tea cake costs at least $300. Some are even priced at several thousand dollars.

I wouldn't own a tea cake if it costs $300; that's way outside my budget.  That Xiaguan tuo shown (two different pictures of different versions) would often cost between $10 and $30-some for different versions of different ages, in online outlets.  They're not tea cakes though; those are 100 grams of tea, instead of a standard 357 grams for cakes (which varies).  I've just ran across mention that a famous Hong Kong shop, Yee On Tea, sells one of their aged Xiaguan tuos at the same age range (around 20 years old) for $60; that kind of thing would depend on different factors, like preferred storage input, and initial quality of the material.

I'd say the range of factory cakes, large-scale producer versions, is between $40 and 60, for new, moderate quality versions.  Those aren't ready to drink yet though, because that kind of tea requires aging.  Most Western boutique-oriented vendors sell their cake versions between $80 and $160, with fully aged versions falling into a higher level and broader range.  You can find high quality, limited production, high demand young (new) sheng cakes for $300 and up, but they are very much the exception.

What to look out for when buying loose leaves?

The most important element is that the leaves remain intact. There shouldn’t be too many broken leaf fragments, branches and petioles. You need to also give it a sniff. The leaves should smell fragrant instead of dull or sour. If you spot green mould, it means the leaves have gone bad and should not be bought. It would be ideal to taste the tea on the spot. The brewed tea has a rich and bright red colour. However dark the tea is, it should be clear enough for you to see the bottom of the cup.

If you spot any color of mold you shouldn't buy a tea.  Again this works ok for shou or aged sheng but for younger sheng the color range isn't right.  I just reviewed a Xiaguan tuocha from 2006 that's in a decent place for aging input, not fully through the process, but quite pleasant, and it's not "red" yet:

It's pretty far off the initial pale gold infusion color, but will seem closer to red in another decade, at 29 years old.  It might seem more desirable then, so maybe saying that at an optimum aged sheng should be darker works, but this isn't clarifying things for people who can't place those specifics.  Let's consider a 20 year old version stored in Malaysia that I reviewed a couple of years ago:

It's more fermented, redder, related to being stored in a humid place, but then the other 19 year old Xiaguan also was (stored in a different humid place, Bangkok instead of Malaysia).  Well-pressed tuochas seem to ferment a little slower, as hard-pressed iron cakes also do.  Oddly younger teas stored in the right way can darken (ferment quite a bit) even faster, as these 6 and 9 year old Dayi / Taetea 7542 sheng pu'er versions did:

Just brewing a tea light or strong will affect coloration quite a bit, so I don't mean to make too much of this tangent.  And loose stored sheng might well transition faster, making 20 year old versions more fermented and darker colored, as those two considerably younger cake versions--aged for less than a decade--just shown were.

Rating her content and input

Most of it is fine.  I don't think it works well as a general guide as it could, since so much is left out, and what it all means is only clear when you already know what it's saying.  The description of what shou pu'er is (a ripe or pre-fermented type) doesn't work at all here; it could hardly be less clearly explained.  The premise of it talking about higher quality range pu'er should be made clearer, which really doesn't work well for shou, since even better quality, higher demand versions aren't all that expensive, so it's a different theme.

Shou tends so much less expensive that finding any cake that costs significantly over $60 to 80 is a rarity, unless it has been extensively aged, which doesn't really help much with shou.  Of course there are plenty of outliers out there that cost over $100, but the average of what's on the market would be under 100, maybe even counting many aged versions.

The implication that she is mostly covering high quality tea range shifts things quite a bit.  I can go and buy good factory shou cakes for $40 to 50 in lots of places, but she's talking about other range, what is better yet.  Those same cakes would be kind of expensive in 15 to 20 years, so people see value in significant aging, even though it makes less and less difference past 3 or 4 years of early transition, for shou.  

Let's go back to the initial framing, the intro, and see what is implied:

Pu’er tea is arguably one of the most popular Chinese teas. Its pervasiveness across all social groups is reflected in the price difference of various options in the market.

Pu’er can be seen at any dim sum restaurant for ten dollars a pot, but the same tea can also be sighted in the form of a cake at auctions, with connoisseurs splashing hundreds of thousands dollars for it.

That last part seems high; spending thousands on a cake should be enough.  A desirable version from the 1930s might go for an outrageous price.

What does it tell us that the most basic range is ten dollars a pot?  That could be about right, for low-medium quality pu'er, sold at a medium cost scale restaurant.  

To discuss the quality range you are talking about you really need to specify what tea is selling for by cake, or as a price per gram, and from what kind of outlets.  That level of detail isn't brought up in this, beyond the vague claim that tea cakes might sell for $300 or more, in general, which again doesn't really work.  For higher demand, 20 or more year old cakes that's about right, or even some new material cakes from the more sought after origin areas, but for most of the market range that's way too high.  She was focused more on generalities related to pu'er, and the experience, not cost and buying issues, but to invoke the cost theme at all it's necessary to place whatever range you are describing.

Maybe this fails the most related to the implied purpose:  covering "Choosing Pu'er Tea."  The main advice this gives is to buy loose tea versions (called maocha, which is also a reference to semi-processed teas of other types), which sort of works, and also sort of doesn't.  Without it being clearer on the distinction between shou and sheng it couldn't possibly succeed.  You need to outline why brand new--unaged and unfermented--sheng might be a viable selection, and why plenty of other range is only consumed as well aged tea, back to the boutique versus factory tea theme.  It would help to treat the cost issue a bit, versus just saying that it all might be expensive.  Xiaguan tuochas selling for between $10 and 30 are not so costly; standard cakes priced between $80 and $120 are less affordable, even though the per-gram higher end range of both isn't so different, which brings up the sampling theme, that vendors often sell smaller quantities for people to try.

Maybe I should re-write a better version.  I've written sheng and shou basics posts before, (on exploring sheng pu'er, sheng pu'er aging exploration, but it's been years, so I could run back through that, with an eye towards how to source tea during the exploration phase.

I ran across this looking for another photo; the visits are a favorite memory of those tastings

2006 Xiaguan FT Te Ji sheng pu'er tuocha

 

On a recent visit to my favorite local Bangkok Chinatown shop, Jip Eu, the owner, Kittichai, gave me a Xiaguan tuocha.  They'll often pass on a sample of something interesting, but I don't remember them giving me that much tea like that (100 grams; not so much, but a significant amount).  It's very kind of him.  I suppose it's partly in thanks for me writing here about them, and steering some business there, which to me is about helping others find decent tea, not really about benefitting me.  I typically mention other shop options as well, as I did in the last post, discussing how Sen Xing Fa--another nearby shop--is set up better for doing extensive tasting.

I probably found what it was, more or less by chance.  A King Tea Mall listing looks exactly the same, down to all the numbers listed, and Chinese text (as far as I can tell).  Of course there is also Google Lens translation, but that helps less than one might imagine.  It's probably this:

2006 XiaGuan "FT-Te Ji" (Special Grade) Tuo 100g Puerh Sheng Cha Raw Tea

Listing for $26 for a 100 gram tuocha there.  That probably is market rate now.  You can buy the newer ones, that need another 15 or 20 years to age more, for more like $10, but someone holding onto it to cover that part costs you, with varying storage conditions inputs giving different results.  Then it's probably also an above average quality version, outlined in detail by that King Tea Mall listing:

Description:

The 2006 XiaGuan "FT-Te Ji" Tuo is part of the esteemed "Te Ji" series, denoting "Special Grade" in Chinese. This line of Puerh Sheng Cha, initiated in 2003 by XiaGuan, aimed to exceed the quality standards set by the JiaJi tuo cha. Renowned as "TeTuo" ("特沱"), an abbreviation of "TeJiTuoCha," this series underwent an official renaming in 2016, underscoring its prestige.

Distinctive Features:

The wrapper bears the trademark design of a "Pine tree and Crane," emblematic of the series' heritage and superior quality.

Variants of the "Te Ji" series include the general version and a higher-quality variant distinguished by a red-eyed crane.

The "FT" (Fly to Taiwan) version employs slightly superior tea materials, featuring more young buds and tiny leaves.

I had thought FT stood for "for Taiwan," but that doesn't change much either way.  This shop, Jip Eu, doesn't carry this tea anymore, per my understanding since they've sold out of a large batch they would've bought back in 2006 or so.  I do keep buying another 2012 Xiaguan tuo version there, which they still sell.

Review:

first infusion (after a rinse):  flavors are nice, subdued, clean (as this range of tea goes), interesting and pleasant.  The distinctive flavor that reminds me of aged horse saddle leather is there.  Harsh edges have largely aged off it, in those 19 years.  That would have to do with the hot and humid storage here; that wouldn't be true of the exact same tea stored in a cool and dry area.  

second infusion:  feel is thick, oily, and viscous.  I really do like that odd earthy range of flavors, especially in a version that's closer to ready to drink than I usually try.  I re-tried a 2012 Xiaguan tuo (from Jip Eu, the one that they still do sell) over the past week and it's close enough to enjoy, but not this far along for fermentation transition.  Beyond the leather--or at least what I interpret as leather--there is good depth of other range, mineral content, towards medicinal dried herb, and a little towards dried longan or tamarind fruit, it's just not overly fruity.  Feel is pleasant and the overall effect isn't harsh at all.

third infusion:  it reminds me a little of smoke, brewed a little stronger.  Often if a tea has contacted smoke that input will come out strongest right away, and keep fading.  This might well just be a natural related flavor, which does kind of match with the rest.  I'm not sure if this is a positive transition or not, related to my own experience just now.  I'm open to teas tasting like smoke, natural (inherent) or added, and it does match the other barnyard scope, but it's not necessarily better for including it.  Or worse either, as I see it, so just different.

fourth infusion:  quite balanced at this level; everything I've mentioned is still going on.  It's got decent intensity, of course.  I'm brewing this using a moderate infusion proportion too, for me, maybe only 7 grams in 100 ml gaiwan, versus the more typical 9 or so (typical for me).  Mind you not everyone would like this; to others it could be harsh, or off-putting.  The 2012 was more so, with so much of the earlier rough edges standing out.  I had my daughter Kalani taste it, and to her it was awful.  She asked why anyone would drink that.  I liked that version too (yesterday, I guess it was), but it wasn't quite ready, maybe by those extra 6 years.

her, posing

It's hot as Hades here, trying this tea in Bangkok at noon.  I should at least turn a fan on, but I've not even done that.  It was so nice living in Honolulu where the temperature is between 75 and 80 F all the time, maybe 25 to 28 C, and now it's back to 30s / around 90 F all the time.

fifth infusion:  the complex balance of flavors keeps shifting, the proportion, but the range isn't changing.  Smoke isn't gone but it was only a main flavor input for that one infusion.  Sweetness is nice for this; to me that one input helps tie all the rest together.  Feel is nice, and intensity, and aftertaste expression.  Layers of leather, barnyard flavor, medicinal herb, and some dried fruit really complement each other.  But only for people who like aged Xiaguan, of course, and it's hard to imagine someone preferring newish, untransitioned versions.

sixth infusion:  not different.  I might even drop taking notes here.  There probably will be some degree of interesting change as this wraps up, around infusions 10 to 12, or it could be pleasant and interesting up to 15 rounds or so.  Intensity is high enough for this that I'm using short infusion timing, 5 seconds or so, which will enable it lasting longer than if I was soaking it for longer.

Seeing a Tiger Balm pack of balm on the table reminds me how someone might interpret this as including quite a bit of camphor.  I suppose that it does, as people use that term.  I've never been completely comfortable isolating that as a description very often, but it's there.  Food range makes more sense to me; you get chances to eat those things, and it associates more naturally as a flavor.  Something like smoke is familiar enough from foods that this connection often makes sense too.  

Then I just can't remember specific floral ranges or incense spices.  Maybe this tastes a lot like one of them, and I wouldn't know.  Interpreting it as including incense spice would make sense too, but it would be helpful to be familiar with a half dozen of those, to break it down to that next level.

seventh infusion, comparison tasting with a Dayi (8582):  I was re-trying a standard Dayi cake with breakfast, not to see if it was ready, because it wouldn't be, from 2016 (9 years old).  It's pretty far along for spending that time here in Bangkok, but it needs at least another half dozen years, and it will level off closer to where it will be in another 10.  I keep trying the teas to see the transition patterns, because they're interesting.  It's not even about education or learning, it's just interesting.

The Dayi tea is harsher; it's not there yet for age transition.  It includes a green wood component, and a harsher form of astringency.  This is much better than it was two years ago when I first bought it (reviewed here then), becoming more pleasant.  Positive warm-toned flavors are developing.  

It's interesting how that "barnyard" range stands out in the Xiaguan.  It's not just that it's further along for transition, and it is that; the basic flavor range is also different.  There's a nice sappy effect that goes along with that, crossing over from flavor to feel.  I'm not sure what I expected this comparison to highlight.  The flavor and other character differences are interesting, but not informative.  It was sitting on the table beside me doing the tasting, so it seemed as well to try both and mention it.

This stopped short of guessing where the Xiaguan stands in terms of being relatively fully age transitioned, fermented, or how it might change over some of the following years.  19 years of transition in Bangkok storage is a lot, but it will keep changing over the next decade, probably mostly for the better.  It's definitely not going to run out of intensity.  Most of the green wood type flavor range and harsh-edged feel is gone, so it's fine to drink now, but it might still be a good bit better later.  I'd have to try it in another half dozen years to know.  I suppose that I probably will mostly set it aside to see.

Benchmark reference:  Liquid Proust now carries a similar Xiaguan tuo

I remembered seeing a mention of a Liquid Proust (vendor) Xiaguan tuo of about the same age, and that will help set what a market rate is for this.  Here is his listing:

2006 Xiaguan FT7653-6 100g, THB 1,016.95 (around $30)

Out of all the storage I've had there was always the Yang Qing Hao and Wistaria house notes that couldn't be rivaled. Then comes along this 2006 Xiaguan random tuo that has been pushed in warm and humid conditions in Taiwan. The depth of the tea with the smoke notes that are matured into something new with the puerh... it's a treat that I will miss dearly. This might be one of those extremely lucky finds.

Per the comments it's the aging conditions that give the tea great value, and the one Hong Kong shop that James of Tea DB keeps mentioning, Yee On tea, carries something similar for about double that cost, so $60.  

So market value is somewhere between $30 and 60?  That's a good bit for a Xiaguan tuo.  Next one would need to compare storage inputs to determine if the one I've just reviewed is really as good, or better, and personal preference would enter in so much in making that determination that it really wouldn't work, as an objective finding.

Thai minor deity tea cups, in the MBK mall; something different

Sheng pu'er storage, wet, dry, and optimum

first published in TChing here

I've been giving sheng pu'er storage conditions some thought lately, and recently ran across examples of teas altered by the two extremes.  One paradigm was in the form of two different 2005 and 2014 sheng pu'er versions stored dry, in Kunming, that were very well preserved, and the other related to two 2009 cakes that were far more fermented than either of those.  That 2014 version was from Laos, so I usually call the type "sheng" but not "pu'er," a naming convention theme I don't revisit every post.

I don't know where the second more fermented versions were stored, but since I live in one of the hottest and most consistently humid places in the world, in Bangkok, I can draw on plenty of experience about how wetter storage tends to go, and speculate about how artificially maintained conditions might be different than here (although I don't do much with that in this).  I've posted about an even more extreme example in trying a 2010 Nan Jian (Tulin) mini brick, after writing this draft, so I'll leave that out of this discussion.

that 2005 Menghai sheng pu'er; a bit age transitioned

the Nan Jian / Tulin 2010 version, kind of at a similar level

Of course all of this is speculation, pulling together perspective based on partial inputs.  I've only mostly been drinking sheng pu'er for 4 or 5 years, so I don't have any examples of cakes that I've seen transition through even a decade of aging cycle myself, with 15 years cited as a more common fully aged starting point.  I did buy a few sheng and shu cakes around a decade ago but finished them.  Of course that range of experience is all relative to conditions, mapping fermentation level to time period, as more about those examples shows.  This could run long, like a short booklet on these themes, so I'll try to offset that by breaking thoughts up by short section, and really only offer input about humidity as a factor in relation to these cases, even though more than one input came into play, with temperature and air contact other main concerns, and starting point, the tea material, is just as critical as storage factors.  

A bit of an aside, I first wrote about pu'er storage conditions when researching that subject in 2016, and updated that adding a bit on what relative humidity is all about in 2017, with more on natural climate area ranges there.  As you read those posts they shift from only referencing external input to adding more about what I've experienced.  I wrote about sheng storage in a summary post comparing Kunming, Hong Kong, and Malaysia standard natural humidity levels back in 2019 (with local area tables in that post from the Weather Online site); I guess it is time to get back to updating comments on this subject.

Let's start with filling in what those examples covered, then a few definitions, then on to those thoughts about transition patterns.

Two "wet stored" 2009 sheng cakes (reviewed here):  it's a shame not knowing the storage conditions, but those two had to be stored right at the edge of as wet as possible to get to well transitioned in 13 years.  They still had a touch of younger character in limited senses, a bit of vegetal range left, but heavy fermentation related flavors stood out a lot more (mushroom, geosmin--essentially dirt, heavy earth, wood, and mineral flavors, warm dried fruit, dark wood and aged furniture).  Lots of teas I've reviewed here shared some of that scope, but it takes a different kind of input to get that much geosmin emerging.  For intense, bitter and astringent teas, like Xiaguan tuochas tend to be, you really need a lot of transition to move off that range some might see as unapproachable, so 15 years of relatively fast aging might be just the thing.  I suppose that's jumping ahead though, on to the patterns.

2009 versions, much more fermentation transitioned than the other two teas

1980 and 1993 versions color comparison (from here), relatively fully transitioned, brewed fast

Two well-preserved dry stored cakes:  a 2005 Menghai version and 2014 Laos tea.  There's a common discussion point that a trade-off for drier storage, beyond not transitioning (fermenting) is that a sour or wood-like aspect can develop, and I keep coming back to whether that happens or not in examples like these.  Both were really well-preserved, aged to a relative degree of half that if they'd spent the time here, or even less.  Some degree of bright, floral, aromatic, and fresh aspects remained in both, of course more so in the 2014 version, with that 2005 more in a "teen years" sort of middle ground for aspects present.  Starting point changes a lot, and I can't be sure how they were initially, but Laos teas are essentially never challenging to begin with (per trying at least a dozen sheng versions from there), and for Menghai versions that definitely can come up, intense character early.  

2014 Laos version, a little washed out by high lighting level, but also light

Is that really a regional character aspect theme though?  I'm not sure.  Laos teas have to be made from wild-grown, naturally occurring material because they're not farming teas in the same monoculture forms that are common in China there yet.  Surely someone is replanting and growing tea through more standard farming, but I mean in general.  Mountainous areas in Laos tend to be cool as SE Asia goes, not like the hotter lower flatlands in Laos.  It's unlikely that heavy pesticide and fertilizer use would come up as often as in standard monoculture farming; the trees have been living naturally for decades, or more likely centuries (a general 400 year age range comes up for the tea growing practices, often extended to saying that the actual plants are often 400 years old, which isn't right, they would vary in age, most much younger).  Then plant types would vary; although parts of Laos close to Yiwu that's no guarantee that plant types growing overlap so much.

To keep this moving back to that one storage input range let's consider what those wet and dry ranges really mean.

Dry storage:  

Based on reviewing average local climate conditions it doesn't seem that dry in Kunming, varying from low 50s (RH %) up to nearly 80, as a monthly average.  It's not necessarily the outdoor humidity level as a relative value that's a problem in temperate locations (the US, Europe), but that if it's cool out and heated indoors then that relative humidity level of heating air that can hold a lot less moisture is dry, relatively speaking.

For indoor storage it's commonly accepted that if the range falls below 50% the tea fermentation will become inactive (whether that's actually right or not, but that sounds like a reasonable conventional understanding to me).  In March and April, stored at natural local humidity levels, Kunming stored teas wouldn't be fermenting much, but that's still perhaps not bone dry.  Since it's an average it's harder to say, and it's not easy to factor in how indoor temperature moderation would work out, if real indoor conditions wouldn't tend to be drier.

Wet storage:  we can cite Malaysian values as an example here, and compare that to indoor controlled conditions:

Malaysian local climate shows humidity level in the mid 70s to low 80s, all the time, that's humid.  That's based on an average temperature window of 24 to 31 C (75 to 88 F, surely often hotter at mid-day).  That's a little more humid than here (Bangkok), where it's quite hot and humid, but weather varies a little more, with both are in a similar ballpark.  

I was going to use here as an example, about how it's cooler now because it's 10 AM, and the value will dry a bit as temperature increases, but it's 32 C (89 F) and 65% now, pretty hot and humid (when I wrote the first draft).  Maybe the point would've worked better at 6 AM, back when it was still in the 20s (closer to 80 F).  I'm first editing this on the Thursday shown and it really did get up to 37 C yesterday, which is hot, human body temperature, so the units conversion to 98 F comes easily.  I ran yesterday, in the afternoon, and was really feeling it.  Due to bad judgment I doubled my normal route length, from 4 km to 8, and I still felt the impact in the evening as a result of both.

People discussing controlling temperature for sheng storage tend to fix on specific humidity level they feel is high but still safe from mold, often using 70% RH for that, or sometimes less.  70% is kind of the edge, although other conditions factor in too, temperature, and degree of air contact.  I don't think you could hold stored sheng at the Malaysian local maximum, 84%, without experiencing problems.  If temperature shifts just a little it would take time for the salt pack to adjust and any condensation is a worst case for tea (sheng pu'er cakes; other teas don't need to be stored in contact with humidity, perhaps with shu pu'er and hei cha as possible exceptions).

Ideal / natural storage (two different things):  I'll have to mostly speculate a little about this but wave off the subject more than I address it.  One idea behind "natural storage" is that you aren't holding the humidity and temperature at one set value, and normal fluctuations in range allow the tea to experience a more normal, organic sort of environment.  If I'm remembering right Marshal N, of the Tea Addict's Journal blog, has speculated that some degree of change could be beneficial, having moisture move in and out of the tea, letting microfauna experience more normal circumstances.  I'm not sure, even if that attribution is completely accurate, since I've not been reading that blog as much for awhile.

"Ideal" would be a tricky concept, since people might naturally want different outcomes based on having different preferences.  Or something that gets less attention, it might depend on the tea character starting point, with more aggressively bitter and astringent teas really needing a lot of transition, and others that don't changing more positively when the shift is slower.  I won't get far with speculating about that second point here, except to say that I have liked some teas that weren't changed much over time, like those two I mentioned earlier.  

That 2010 Nan Jian / Tulin version is probably an even better example, the one I didn't go into here.  But then maybe I would've liked both just as much "younger" and stored wetter, and the 2005 Menghai version did seem to need more time to get to a likely more optimum aging level.  I'm trying it again with breakfast, and after, as I edit this; it will probably be better in 5 more years.

It would be nice if I had more exposure to what others see as optimum results, trials of 20 year old teas stored in different ways, starting from different characters, that turned out very well.  I'll only ever get so far with that; I don't have the tea budget to approach it in the most efficient ways.  This is a hurdle that many could find problematic in relation to feeling like they have a moderate degree of exposure to the subject, that trying 100 aged sheng versions wouldn't necessarily seem like a good background, because then someone might just want to try 100 much better versions.  Or too see the patterns play out for themselves for a few dozen cakes, a project that would take that 15 years or so.

On the one hand this is exactly what I love about sheng, beyond the direct experience of drinking the tea itself, that the experience of these transitions and inputs is never-ending.  In a recent video interview (where I was interviewed, odd) I answered that this is what keeps tea experience so new and interesting to me, even though I've been drinking a lot of teas over the past 8 or 9 years, that sheng versions can change every time you check in on them.

It was interesting talking to a well-known US tea enthusiast about these issues recently in a meetup, with "Mr. Mopar," but it's hard to drill down to discussing these levels of inputs and outputs.  As general patterns you can, but not in relation to getting a sense of how any one tea shifted, where it ended up (at one given time), and why.  Online group tasting is better for that, but it would still go one or two examples at a time.

All this reminds me of a tea enthusiast commenting about trying to break into sheng pu'er in a group post, trying out 15 or so versions from Yunnan Sourcing.   He referenced that as his "ante."  It seemed that if he chose 15 of the same type of versions, younger or medium aged factory teas, dry stored so not age transitioned, he wouldn't really experience much of the broader range of sheng pu'er.  Acclimation to bitterness takes time, and the main way people seem to adjust to that, beyond continuing to try bitter tea versions over time, is to approach sheng through shu experience.  Or it can work to try aged forms first, or milder, sweeter sheng versionss earlier on (with Yiwu origin teas often more like that).  He didn't like many of the teas.

I wouldn't have liked the 2005 Menghai version I'm trying now five years ago, and I guess I still have mixed feelings about it now, about bitterness and green wood vegetal range standing out a lot.  Without knowing the background context I might have expected this to represent relatively aged (fermentation transitioned) sheng, but it's definitely not that.  Dabbling in sheng over time might be a better approach, rather than letting one set of samples from one vendor determine your final take.  

A local friend recommended getting a cake and drinking all of it, just to adjust to the range, and to get brewing down.  Oddly that's good advice, but it also delayed my exploration of sheng quite a bit, because in not understanding types I bought something comparable to this Menghai tea when it was relatively new, based on a recommendation from another contact who probably had little exposure to sheng, with no communication about that context.  I could endure the bitterness and astringency by the end of that cake, brewing it fast, but it wasn't a helpful experience.

Needless to say very little of this is actionable guidance, just scattered discussion instead.  Maybe eventually I'll be able to write a post that goes that next step, on to practical advice and promising approach points.

2003 Dayi / Taetea 7542 sheng (Sheng Olympiad sample)

that white part doesn't seem ideal; it was less apparent just looking at it but noticeable 

I'm trying a second sample from the 2020 Sheng Olympiad sheng tasting set from Liquid Proust.  The first version I tried, a 2005 Xiaguan "wild" sheng, was really interesting and pleasant.  This is a classic tea version that I won't say much more about; I've reviewed versions of it before, and those posts would go through what the tea version is about.  It's used as a benchmark of sorts, as a consistent version others can be compared against.

Andrew Richardson's description (the tea enthusiast / vendor who runs this shop and set offering):


~15g of 2003 7542 from Dayi: I'll let you all go research about the 7542 blend and Dayi, but I'll say one thing about this... I'm incredibly thankful to even have the opportunity to offer this to everyone let alone do it at a price that you couldn't even tell was added to the whole set. Oh, and I need to mention these are Hong Kong stored.


Sounds good.  It goes without saying that "Hong Kong stored" tends to be used as just one thing, as if every tea stored in Hong Kong is going to experience a similar environment, when in practice that would really vary.  Micro-climate in different places varies, humidity and temperature, and issues like airflow change things, along with those other two main parameters.  There's no reason a storage environment couldn't even control the humidity level, adjust that, but Hong Kong is said to offer pretty good natural conditions for sheng storage.

eating really delicious noodles in Hong Kong last April

it felt cold to me, being from Bangkok, but this rainy day speaks to how it can be humid

paying respect to a Guan Yin statue

Review:  

First infusion:  plenty of wet slate / damp basement / cement block aspect range; I would imagine that's almost entirely storage related, and will fade, at least some.  This could pass for Liu Bao.  It's hard to get a read on what is going on beyond that.  It seems fine, not ruined by the relative mustiness, clean beyond that one dominant tone.  This will surely still be clearing out next round but I'll move onto trying it then.

Second infusion:  I went a little long on infusion time to get that initial transition moving, around 15 seconds, even though right between 5 and 10 would probably be enough.  It still tastes like Liu Bao but like a much cleaner, more aged, later-infusion round version of one.  The next round will really show where this is going better, but I'll describe this one too.  Old furniture flavor picks up; the wet slate / cement block range is giving way to that.  Sweetness bumps a little, a faint hint of molasses, maybe closer to Chinese date (jujube). 

Feel is decent; it's clean with a bit of fullness.  The lower quality older sheng I've tried tends to narrow down to a limited flavor range and lose feel fullness altogether.  Aftertaste length / duration is fine, but it will probably carry over a more pleasant range within a couple of rounds.

Third infusion:   this infused for a bit under 10 seconds, plenty of time for this proportion (backed off how I normally brew sheng, so just in a more conventional range for most of everyone else).  There is still some wet slate to this, but now it's balanced more evenly with the aged furniture, more complex for including the other less pronounced dried fruit range.  A deeper flavor edge resembles a bit of char, actual charcoal flavor. 

I get the sense that some part of all this could relate to what people tend to call camphor, but I don't.  Actual camphor is closer to what Vicks Vapo-rub smells like; this isn't that.  All of these other flavors do have an odd combined effect, and the feel is hard to describe.  I suppose it could be interpreted a bit towards aromatic, in the sense that furniture polish is that way, which would be related but different oil compounds.

This overlaps a little with the three aged CNNP cakes that I have (or whatever those really are; CNNP versions are said to be inconsistent in origin at best, and buying some of them from local Chinatown sources throws that consistency off even more).  It comes across as cleaner for having had a lot of that experience; those really can emphasize the damp basement range in different ways. 

Humid and hot Bangkok storage can be too much; it seems critical to allow the teas to have some limited air exposure, and if you just throw the in a sealed space for a decade they come out really musty.  Some of that can clear up after half a year of more air exposure but to some extent it's also a permanent change.


Fourth infusion:  the lower infusion levels people tend to describe using make sense related to how intense this tea is; it's brewing a bit strong at 7 to 8 seconds infusion time.  Cutting proportion back just a little would help with dialing lighter infusion strengths in.  At least there are no negative aspects to "brew around;" this would work at different infusion strengths.

It's nice, just at a slightly different balance of the same aspects.  It cleans up further, and the aged furniture and dried fruit range picks up a little.  It will probably just keep that up for another ten rounds or so, changing more at the end related to how extending infusion times to keep intensity up changes effect.  It's nice; standard enough range aged sheng, as it should be.  That balance of Chinese date / jujube flavor is nice, hinting just a little towards real black licorice.

I suppose the effect could be relatively different depending on the storage input, swapping out some of this depth and aspects that needed to clear off for a bit less fermentation-developed range if it had been stored dryer.  Given how musty older teas stored here in Bangkok could be, and how Malaysian storage examples have worked out, to me this tastes like a more moderate range natural storage version.  But then what do I know.


Fifth infusion:  even cleaner; this starts into more of an aromatic bark spice range, frankincense or something such.  I brewed this round slightly faster, maybe 6 seconds instead of 8, and to me that's plenty for this proportion.  Brewed this light it's also easier to pick up the now-faint trace of mustiness, since separating flavor range works better at a lighter infusion strength level, but it all works well.  I'll let the next round go just over 10 seconds to see how that shifts things.  The feel depth will increase a good bit, and experienced flavor range should shift.

Aftertaste experience is still nice, it's just moderate related to how that tends to go for other tea character range.  Feel fullness and creaminess is also fine but moderate in comparison with some other aged sheng range.  Since I appreciate flavor as much as the other aspects, and pleasant balance of all character range most, it's fine for me.

Sixth infusion:  brewed even slightly longer--ok, twice as long, but still a moderate timing--the touch of char comes out a lot more.  That effect tends to stand out even more after a dozen infusions or so.  It's pleasant how the aged furniture range comes across so strong in this.  Aftertaste experience does increase, of course, and feel fullness, which gains a trace of structure, along with the prior non-distinct fullness.  Complexity is pleasant, the way all the flavors and other aspects I keep mentioning combine.  There is room for improvement across a lot of the range but it's good.

Seventh infusion:  I'll let this go after this round, off to do the first yoga class I'll be back to after a 3 or 4 month break for the pandemic.  I don't love the experience of doing yoga but at my age it helps to stay a bit flexible.  There's more of a physical-health story to be told about a knee problem I've been dealing with, about how I took most of that time off running, and am only 5 runs or so back into it, but I'll close this with some more thoughts about this tea instead.

It's fine; not different than last round.  I drink teas a lot like this whenever I feel like that having experience, but CNNP versions instead.  The Tulin tuochas I have that are a couple years younger are not that far behind this fermentation level, well along related to that process, but the character is quite different.  I guess it's about what I expected.

Conclusions:

I drank a few more infusions and it only seemed to be fading.  Some aged cardboard seemed to pick up as extending infusion times changed the flavor profile (where more often that's a touch of char that increases instead).  I liked the tea, it was an interesting experience, it just wasn't all that different or better than the aged versions I have on hand, which never seemed all that exceptional to me, but are pleasant.

I suspect that storage wasn't an ideal input for this tea version.  The touch of white in the photo, and evident from appearance, didn't make me too nervous, but then I wouldn't want to drink a cake worth of tea I was concerned about, versus not worrying as much about a sample.  The taste seemed to indicate that fermentation went a bit far, or was in a less than ideal form. 

All that can be a real balancing act, and what is ideal definitely could vary by preference.  If someone wanted to try a tea that's essentially completely finished fermenting, as this seemed to be, then either trying a 30 year old version or trying a tea that was stored on the more humid side would lead to that.  It's not as if that's a linear sort of scale; more or less humid conditions, and to some extent also temperature and air contact as inputs, would lead to different outcomes.


On a different subject, that of personal context related to trying aged sheng versions, I've ran into a roadblock in terms of trying better teas related to budget limitations.  Using a sampling strategy offsets that, but then instead of having moderate priced and quality cakes around to keep drinking as they age you've got 20 gram samples, which will be gone soon enough.  It really helps having a good bit of budget depth for exploring above average aged sheng.  Sample sets like this are nice; you might not love some of the versions for your own reasons, or some could really stand out related to what else is out there, or not match up well, but still you get to try different things.

For standard factory teas like this I could buy relatively inexpensive tongs of new versions and then wait a dozen years or so; that strategy is a gap in my current approach.  Having "only" 10 or so kilos of tea around already has my wife convinced that I own more tea than I'll ever drink, even though it's not that much.  Much better sourcing and networking is another alternative; two different online friends have mentioned buying through Taiwanese sources that sell for much lower pricing than standard Western outlets like Yunnan Sourcing.  That would involve some learning curve, and failures, probably ideally supported by basing it off what one of those friends are already doing.

For now I'm ok with drinking a good bit of younger sheng, and buying only slightly aged versions from outlets like the Chawang Shop, cutting the waiting time from a dozen years to more like half that.  Sample sets and running across versions in different ways fills in depth of experience.  I should be part of a local tea enthusiast network; that would help.  More will follow soon enough about a step towards that.

from the day after the last photo; he gave up his pandemic look