Lin farm Da Wu Ye Dan Cong

I recently reviewed two versions of Lin farm Dan Congs (contact here), some of the most exceptional teas I've tried, so I was looking forward to continuing to try other versions.  This one is a Da Wu Ye, which I'll review more background on after a tasting.  Tasting relatively blind is interesting, in a sense.  The power of suggestion can change how a tea is perceived, potentially making tasting more accurate, or possibly throwing off the process by adding a bias.  Tasting more than once can help dial in impressions, which I describe in this write up.

If I ever say I'm basing a review on trying a new tea once that could be interpreted as an interim opinion about the tea; it's really not enough to offset minor differences in brewing, or to adjust for palate shifts over time.  That last is also a significant factor.  Factors like eating spicy food diminishe taste (flavor) sensitivity for awhile, but other shifts can occur without a clear reason.  I often taste in the morning and I'm not really a morning person; I suspect that can mute impressions.  Someone recently mentioned tasting in "non-meditative space," a less than ideal environment.  Since I have young kids I'm basically going through life in a non-meditative space, with a background noise level approaching the sound of a car crash.

Relating to changing impressions, I recently wrote about a commercial pu'er (a Menghai Dayi tuocha, here), and I've since had much better results for adjusting brewing parameters.  Or really that difference could relate more to exposure, to shifting expectations a little, hard to say.

There is one other limitation I work past that I've never shared with readers, not that listing out lots of reasons why I can't taste tea very well makes sense.  I wrestled in high school (the sport, like in the Olympics), and had my nose violently rearranged a few times.  Phrased in medical terms I now have a deviated septum; the inside of my nose is crooked.  That can be fixed, I think, and I would get more tasting capacity by adjusting air flow on the one side.  At an rate I can still pass on a pretty good idea of what this tea is like.


Based on dry tea scent and trying the rinse it's sweet and floral.  One more tangent here:  a rinse seems to not be a rinse if you drink it, right, at least definitely not a wash.  I just went through a short discussion about all that, not something I planned to treat much more here, but I'll add a little.  A rinse is to "wake-up" the tea, to activate it, to start it getting wet, and a wash is to clean it.  Of course the same water can do both.  As far as methodology, especially timing, it's as well I don't offer much guidance, I'd just not let the tea steep for long in rinsing / washing myself.

It's typical to definitely wash fermented pu'er, shou or older sheng, and this article gives a good reason for that, cited in this post on fermentation.  Fermentation results in creating toxins, in addition to causing changes that taste good (nothing to panic about though--the tea won't kill you).  Other teas one may or may not rinse or wash; up to the individual.  Older Chinese tradition has every tea being washed, as another tea friend recently recommended.  I had washed teas more in the past, and now typically don't, but it's hard to explain why really.  Some teas I'd definitely not wash, the most delicate, which would give up a lot of flavor to that process.  But don't take what I do as clear guidance; I'm just some guy that drinks tea, mostly self taught, and I'm probably not that great a teacher or student.  Back to that tea then.



It's floral, and light, but then I'm brewing it on the lighter side, which emphasizes that.  Based on the first infusion only I'd guess it would be regarded as aromatic, although that distinction still could be clearer to me.  It doesn't lean towards the spice-oriented complexity (or what I was describing as such) in those other two Dan Cong versions from the Lin family.  It's still soft; I'm not picking up much in the way of astringency, but then brewing lightly offsets that.  It's not tart either, so the floral nature and sweetness, the clean flavors and nice feel all come through without negative aspects to work around, or aspects that could potentially be negative based on balance and preference.  I guess it could also seem too soft, to some.


I'm not feeling as overwhelmed as I was by the other two versions.  Some of that could relate to already trying those other teas; I'm already expecting teas in the same range, it's more normal now.  I think it relates more to how I react to the difference in the teas.  This tea is more pure floral, and it's subtle; potentially that "aromatic" nature is locating the experience differently, of course with that spatial-analogy reference being limited.

Given that I'm just saying "floral" I might as well take a stab at which flower.  It seems still in the orchid range, light and sweet, just more aromatic, and a bit richer, more towards lavender, but not that heavy-handed.  There is a trace of flower-stem type character in the taste, a faint hint of what one might call bitterness, but really it doesn't seem right attaching that concept to this tea.  That aspect is a completely different thing than that young commercial sheng I've been drinking for the last two days; compared to that tea this is exactly the opposite of bitter.


Tasting it is a strong experience, one that occurs as much after you drink as during, but in a different way than for the other teas, not so much focused on taste.  The tea has a full feel, one you feel all across your tongue after drinking it.


I like this tea, but I absolutely loved the other two versions, so I guess in a sense it pales in comparison.  I really think that has to do with personal preference, not the quality level or character of the tea, related to being good or not, or more accurately "how good."

As infusions go on it transitions more to fruit, something tropical and light, but hard to pin down.  Lychee, longkong, longan, and rambutan all have light colored, light, sweet fruit tastes that are related, and it seems to be in that range (more on fruits in Thailand here).  Of those fruits I really love lychee; a good version is transcendent, so sweet and bright, with a faint background of spice-like notes that remind me of a nice Sauvingon Blanc (but this is probably closer to longkong).  The floral is making it hard to separate the fruit out; the tastes aren't so far from each other, so they sort of overlap.

I like the tea better with fruit more pronounced, and slightly more complex.  It picks up a different level of fullness too, related to both feel and the flavor range.  It's the kind of taste that if one is so inclined they could express as an analogy to other foods, as sweet and fruity as fruit loops cereal, maybe (which has a taste that reminds me of pandan leaf).

It's odd that it keeps getting better, softer, just as sweet, but fuller.  Could that just be me warming up to it?  The overall effect is different than I've experienced, which I'll relate to tasting the same tea again later.

Second tasting notes

I tried the tea a second time a week later.  The first tasting never did lead to a clear flavors list description, and I didn't feel like I had a great feel for the tea.

A couple infusions in I still wasn't really getting that, a list of flavors standing out.  The tea is very good, unique and aromatic, but subtle.  Warm and rich flavors do emerge, in the same general range I described the first time, but the effect is not mostly about flavor.  I'm reminded of drinking Bai Mu Dan versions lately (white teas), how at first they just don't taste like much but later the positive effect becomes clearer and clearer, and even the flavors range makes more sense.  But then some teas just aren't mostly about flavor.

The rest of that effect is difficult to describe.   It's round, if that type of meaningless description helps, relating to feel, and sort of also to aroma.

The taste is still vaguely floral, but moves a little towards light and soft mineral range. It might even resemble a light wood tone, or a very mild root spice.  That last type of spice-flavor effect (only a trace aspect) was much more pronounced in the other Lin teas, in different ways in both other versions.  Again there is almost no astringency, not really any of the type-characteristic unripe fruit edge or tartness, although in the late infusions when extended brewing times are required to get the flavor out a hint of it showed up.

It strikes me as the kind of tea that might not be as easy to appreciate on the first try, or in direct comparison with teas with stronger flavor aspects.  It's like taking the Pepsi challenge; based on a sip of both sodas the sweeter version may seem preferrable, but in the longer run one might well prefer a different balance of aspects.

Research section

So what is Da Wu Ye supposed to be like, per online review?  Let's check.  Yunnan Sourcing offers a description:


"Da Wu Ye" known as Big Black Leaf grows almost exclusively in Phoenix Village in the Wu Dong Mountains of Guangdong. Da Wu Ye is a medium leaf varietal and natural hybrid of local "Ya Shi Xiang" bushes and "Shui Xian" varietal...  It is also called "Snowflake Dan Cong" and has the lowest harvest quantity per bush of any Dan Cong.


A bit more on what it "should" taste like and we'd be finished.  There is a bit on names on the "Amateurs de The Chinois" blog, and on some general types within Dan Cong.  There is more in comments since the actual post only translates Chinese characters, it doesn't transliterate them.  Based on those comments this might be "big dark leaf" type (the translation), which doesn't appear on that list, or alternatively possibly "ginger flower."  Dan Cong names are like that, inconsistent, sometimes with different translation names associated with similar or identical original names, quite likely related to variations of plant types beyond naming inconsistency, but who knows.

Oddly Google doesn't turn up much; always strange when that happens.  Passing references seem to confirm Tea Habitat was selling this type (the shop associated with the Tea Obsession blog, or at least the modern name of one), maybe more than one variation by the same name.  No posts in her blog cover the tea type, not even this one on names and types.

I talked to that author of the Tea Obsession blog / owner of Tea Habitat a little about it--who is actively blogging again; check that out--and she confirmed the "big dark leaf" type direct translation, which had also been included in the Lin's description.  She also said that the final characteristics of teas from a similar leaf type can vary a lot, based on processing differences.  Cindy has mentioned something related before in regards to her teas (Wuyishan teas, we tend to discuss, although she does help make Dan Cong related to having family there too), that the same leaves themselves, the starting point, also seem to vary in attributes year to year.  Apparently that would be based on minor changes in growing conditions, but that is just my guess, I don't think she has concluded that in our discussions.


Not much more turns up for any sort of online description; odd.  So it is what it is, and the review stands alone; great tea, something different.

Ya Shi (duck shit) and Mi Lan Xiang Dan Cong from the Lin farm

the Lin farm Mi Lan version, the right general look

I'll come right out with it; trying these teas was the closest I've been to having a religious experience related to tea, like starting over again.  The better versions of Cindy's teas are the only ones I can compare them to, also a bit transcendent, and I do actually make a direct side by side comparison with one of hers in this post.  I was never under the illusion that I am familiar with the best versions of almost any types, and I'm fine with exploring teas organically, pursuing whatever seems most interesting next, drinking teas from different quality levels.  I'm not very far along in general with Dan Cong, so it doesn't come as a surprise to try some examples from the next level.

A chance internet contact offered to send these samples for review, from the Lin tea farming family.  Of course that is a nice part about being a tea blogger.  It's not as nice when teas are good but not really favorites, harder to place in regards to aspects not relating to preferences, or how to describe limitations in the teas.  Those things don't come up in this post; if anything I might switch over to a bit too much of a subjective take.

One might wonder about family history, how long they've been making tea, if there is more to the story to tell, but this post will focus on tea review.  I'm confident the story is what one would like to hear, about production on all levels drawing on generations of tea making.  I'm sure decades have went into honing specialized skills to make the tea, that it is truly organically produced, as described, and so on.

The way that networking worked out seems typical; the family member that I talked to is a more internet savvy younger daughter in a traditional tea farming family.  Their Facebook page has 96 friends in common so I'm guessing that their tea is probably a relatively open secret.  But the end customers that have tried it would probably not typically know details related to the original source.

There is more I could say than I will here about these teas, about the naming, types, or processing style (eg. level of roast), or related to cultivar types, organic farming, brewing method, etc.  The post runs long covering multiple comparison tastings, so I'll stick to only that, after a short introduction to types.

Even the name of the Lin farm Mi Lan Xiang version would take more unpacking than I'll go through; it was labeled as a "Qing Xiang Mi Lan Dan Cong."  A vague Tea Spring vendor reference identifies a tea with the first name as "a variety of lightly oxidized Song Zhong Dan Cong," which doesn't shed much light on it.  This Tea Guardian reference describe Qing Xiang Fenghuang Dan Cong--Feng Huang is the name Cindy uses for the type instead, meaning "phoenix"--as "literally clear fragrance Phoenix single bush — aka bouquet style Phoenix oolongs, floral style Phoenix “single bush” oolongs."  Another reference by the same site divides styles of Dan Cong into two groups, but that sort of categorization tends to not match in different reference sources.

An old Tea Obsession blog post goes into Dan Cong naming, not really fully clarifying use of those names but spelling out some more background and types.  That post points out that Song Zhong is used to mean different things, most generally "old tree" in reference to a past dynasty name, but used inconsistently so still non-specific.  So onto what the teas are like instead.

First review:  Lin farm Qing Xiang Mi Lan Xiang Dan Cong

the lighter roast stands out even in the dry leaves

I tried this tea first since I've reviewed another good version of this type recently (Cindy's), which would make it easier to place.  I compare it directly to that tea in a second round of tasting here.

The scent of the dry tea was intriguing, and on tasting the rinse I already knew this tea was one of the best Dan Cong I ever tried, maybe even one of the best teas I ever tried.  There was plenty to the fruit and floral range, honey orchid and peach, or perhaps apricot, even a touch of roasted almond.  Sweetness, complexity, and clean flavors stood out most.

leaves look different in different lighting

It's not that far off the version of the same type Cindy sent not too long ago, maybe just prepared differently, a little off the bright fruit effect to accentuate a warm roasted quality.  That's nothing like even the mid-level roasts in Wuyi Yancha, not just different for basic starting-point flavors but also different in aspects drawn out.  It tastes absolutely nothing like "char," and is light roasted compared to Wuyi Yancha styles, but the typical range is lower related to roasting, with finer levels of variation in that for Dan Cong.


There might be potential for them to have prepared this tea differently but per my initial judgement there is no space left to improve upon it; it's essentially perfect as it is.  Listing aspects and drawing on indirect impressions other ways won't really bring that across, but that's how reviewing goes, so I'll continue on with it.


The flavor of the tea extends well beyond drinking it; it might even get a little stronger right after swallowing it.  Astringency is exactly where it should be; quite limited, barely adding a faint edge to the tea.  There isn't much for "tartness," present in some degree for typical types, maybe just a hint that offsets the much more pronounced sweetness well, but really barely any.

The tea is aromatic.  It wasn't so long ago that wouldn't have meant so much to me; most of taste in terms of complex flavors is carried through scent, so in a sense every tea is aromatic.  But some more so than others; a vague centering of experience can occur in that range for some teas more so than for others.  This post on comparing Jin Jun Mei versions might help explain that, or really only my own take, still a work in progress.

It seems like I'm just saying that it's a great example of the tea type, both the general type and this specific flavor version, Mi Lan Xiang, honey orchid aroma, and it surely is.  The final effect is about the balance of those aspects coming together, not so much about what those are individually.  Tasting comparison with a similar tea could help define both, and since I didn't feel like I got to the bottom of all the complexity in one go I'll do that next.

Comparing two Mi Lan Xiang Dan Cong and one Ya Shi (Duck Shit)

Since I just tried Cindy's tea of the same type I'll taste this version in comparison with that, along with the Ya Shi / "duck shit" version.  It typically works better to compare quite similar teas, to help highlight more minor differences, or else it can just get confusing, with too many differences to be as informative.  Hopefully tasting two types and three teas will still strike a reasonable balance.

Ya Shi / "duck shit" Dan Cong:

This general type seemed interesting enough to draw a lot of media hype awhile back, rare for any subject related to tea, perhaps in part due to the name.

The tea is different, very nice, aromatic, round-flavored.  Breaking this tea into flavor aspects is going to be difficult (something I might not want to keep repeating).  It's generally in the floral range, so there's that, but it seems to have a complex, integrated, positive flavor that won't easily be captured by a flavors comparison list.  The normal descriptors of exceptional tea clearly apply:  clean flavored, complex, with a different version of a full feel typical to the general type (no need to dwell on all that; best to stick to these teas, and with three versions to cover easier to stick more to flavors description).

brewed Ya Shi leaves

The flavors range reminds me of root and bark spices.  I tend to reference sassafrass since that's essentially the only one I remember, but it's not that close a match for sassafrass, and definitely not so close to cinnamon, the only bark spice I'm now familiar with.  During a decade plus of drinking various tisanes--herb teas, to some--I crossed paths with lots of others, but I wasn't writing reviews then, or keeping track for any particular reason, and I probably wouldn't be able to refer back to a tisane that I drank over a decade ago anyway.  Or maybe I could, if keeping those sorted back then had seemed more of priority.


The tea definitely includes floral range, I'm just at a loss to mention a specific flower.  I suppose it's perhaps somewhere in the orchid range, just a warmer, richer aspect than honey orchid might be.  Or so I'd guess; I drink teas that are supposed to taste like honey orchid, enough I feel like I have a sense of what that means, but I don't remember smelling one.  More on this tea's transition through different infusions after roughing out the basics on the other two.

Lin Mi Lan Xiang Dan Cong compared to Cindy's version:

Cindy's Mi Lan version, in a similar range

Both teas are so nice, both quite different.  On first taste Cindy's comes across as a bit brighter and sweeter, with more dramatic flavor profile, more intense, but in the same general direction.  That could sound like I'm saying it's better, and it would be for some people, but it's not quite that simple.  Having a warmer, more subtle and spice oriented flavor profile isn't necessarily a bad thing for the other tea.  Actually it's fantastic, just in a different sense.  In a way that also maps onto the difference between the Dan Cong version types, with the Lin's Mi Lan Xiang brighter, sweeter, and more intense, with the Ya Shi more subtle, but giving up nothing related to being complex, positive, and enjoyable.


In a sense I'm implying the Lin Mi Lan Xiang is somehow "between" the other two teas in terms of flavors range, and that sort of works, although the spatial analogy only goes so far.  To be more specific, the Lin farm version of Mi Lan Xiang leans towards the Ya Shi version in terms of warmth, and including a bit of the root / bark spice range.  These descriptions seem a bit rough to me though; the teas flavors are basically floral, nothing like brewing spices, I'm just using that to describe real aspects and to place the range.


I didn't notice it before but I'm picking up a similar range of nutmeg, in the Lin Mi Lan tea just a little, a spice that itself seems complex to me, not a simple taste at all.  It doesn't do the tea justice to say that it's nice.  All three are absolutely amazing teas, just in completely different ways.  It's odd how much variation there is in the two teas of a relatively similar type, which stands out a lot more tasting them together.

the look varies with parameters, yellow to light gold in general

There is a touch of spice adding complexity to Cindy's tea version, just very little in the background, likely brought out more by the power of suggestion, looking for it.  But the focus is on the bright floral range, with a little drift into stone-fruit territory (peach / apricot, not so distinct I'd say either one but for a more standard list-style review I'd just list both).  That trace of tartness and mild astringency (mild in good versions) is more pronounced in Cindy's tea, a balance that really works.  Then again I'm also loving how soft and full the other teas are, and of course the mind-blowing complexity.


It's not my place to speculate but I'm wondering how the Lin family made teas like this.  Of course the starting point must have been positive, the leaves, surely properly harvested from very happy, thriving tea trees (old, growing at elevation, all of that), but lots of things must have went right in processing too.  Cindy's family's tea is also great but more like a better version of other teas I've tried, but something fundamentally different in character is going on with those others.  It could be tied to different leaf sourcing, but it seems likely it's a result of a lot of factors coming together, with processing steps as a major input.

Cindy's Mi Lan brewed leaves

The depth of experience of tasting the Lin Mi Lan Xiang defies description (but then I was going to stop saying that).  It's like that first time you try a really nice Anxi Tie Kuan Yin, or Taiwanese light oolong, or Wuyi Yancha.  It feels like turning to a new page, a sort of "now I get it."  Astringency and tartness are not significant aspects of those teas, and the flavors scope extends to spice, or so I'm interpreting it.  But it's really not about a few positive aspects, the novelty relates to the overall experience.



The flavors do transition a bit, for all these teas, but it ends up being a lot to write about.  The Ya Shi might be drifting a little into a more typical range for Dan Cong, showing a bit of that flower-stem type nature that gives them a slight tanginess, just not much, the tea remains quite soft but full in feel and flavor.  It seems to be the case that the longer infusion times required after lots of infusions (in the range of ten) draws out more of that aspect, something I'd noticed the day before in tasting the other tea initially.


Odd that Cindy's tea seems to soften instead, after a lot of brewing; that might mean more to someone else.  The Lin Mi Lan Xiang stays in the same range but changes, shifting balance between the floral and spice tones.  The honey sweetness in the Ya Shi changes a little, with "honey" really too non-specific, so that a more detailed description reference used by someone familiar with different types of honey seems more in order.  I taste different tropical versions here, based on wide variations in flowers, but to me it's just honey, and then a different kind of honey.

Brewing variations would likely bring out lots of different aspects, and over multiple tastings appreciation of minor aspects or even awareness of different levels to appreciate would probably develop.  I've talked mostly about flavors here but there is more going on to appreciate; the aftertaste component is significant, and the feel is nice, lots more going on with that.

In none of these cases are there negative aspects to discuss or brew around.  All the teas could hardly be said to improve or diminish over infusions, they just change.

As far as my favorite of the three, that would be hard to say.  The novelty of the character of the Lin teas gave them a slight edge over Cindy's, but it would be hard to choose between them, and a preference choice might change with more exposure.  The Ya Shi / duck shit was a bit more subtle, not the kind of tea one tasting really takes in, but the Mi Lan gave up nothing in terms of complexity, and the range of aspects overlapped a little.  I feel lucky just to try teas like these three.