2022 Lishan Tie Guan Yin, 2021 Formosa Tie Guan Yin

Lishan left, in all photos (much greener and lighter in brewed color)

I'm back to reviewing, covering two oolong versions from Tea Mania, a vendor based in Switzerland.  These were contributed for review, more or less, and also just shared by the owner as a tea friend (many thanks!).

Their teas are pretty solid, so I went into trying these with high expectations.  They lived up to them.  That can be a problem, expecting teas to be on the far side of above average, because if anything is missing some of the expected type-typical aspect range, and aspects that serve as quality indicators, or just isn't a tight match to preference, then it can seem all the worse, where with more neutral expectations that would just be normal.

I wanted to add a little personal update here as well.  I've just returned from living in Hawaii again for a month, staying where my kids go to school in Honolulu.  That was the second month long outing there in the last half a year, and I'll go back again in two more months, for the end of Keoni's senior year there.  It has been quite an interesting four year cycle.  Of course that education was the goal, and that part worked.  Switching over employment back to the US didn't.  Living between the two locations and cultures wasn't really intended.

I suppose because I've spent most of the last 18 1/2 years here in Bangkok, and I still spend far more than half the year here, there isn't really any adjustment to work through going back to Thailand.  In Honolulu I feel like I am adjusting for the first couple of weeks, and it could feel more natural for the entire first month.  Of course it's fantastic there; that helps.  I swam in the ocean, out to a flag about 200 meters out, at least a dozen times in a month.  Running goes better there, due to the cooler climate, just not so much this time related to an Achilles tendon problem.  

I met an interesting tea contact there this time, but left out telling that story, in part to avoid going through the permission step, and because there wasn't that much of a consistent story to it.  It felt like meeting new friends; it was nice.  Discussion was all over the place, as it should be.

No matter where I spend time with the kids things go great, so either place, or anywhere else, is suitable for that.

Back to business here; I'll try to look up listings for what I tried.

The first one I couldn't find; it's not this:  Lishan Tieguanyin  ($31 for 50 grams), even though that's also from 2022.  That's too oxidized; it really can't be the same tea.  Or maybe it is, and that just seems completely impossible to me. 

It's lighter, more like this one:  Lishan Medium Roast ($25 for 50 grams).  But that's made from Qing Xin cultivar, and it's not the right year either (from 2015).  They might buy a lot at one time and then be ok with selling it out over years.  It might be similar to this version, Gaoshan Tieguanyin, just from a different year, with that one listed from 2025.

That second one seems to be this:

2021 Formosa Tieguanyin  ($25 for 50 grams)

Formosa Tieguanyin, hailing from Pinglin and harvested during the spring season, undergoes traditional processing methods, resulting in a tea with a medium to strong degree of oxidation. This oxidation level is notably reflected in the green leaves with a delicate red edge, creating a  a beautiful amber liquor.

The aroma of Formosa Tieguanyin is robust and floral, a quintessential trait of spring teas, accompanied by subtle toasted notes that add depth to its profile. Its fragrance evokes hints of jasmine and magnolia, creating a harmonious bouquet. Depending on the quality of the water used, it may reveal a refreshing, slightly acidic note, adding to its complexity. As you savor this tea, you’ll notice a gentle spiciness and honey-like undertones in the cup, making it a truly multisensory experience.

One of the unique attributes of this Formosa Tieguanyin is its enduring finish in the mouth. The reverberation of its flavors persists over an extended period, inviting you to savor and contemplate its intricate character in meditative silence. Thanks to its traditional processing, this tea is well-suited for storage without compromising its aroma. Over time, as it matures, the aroma transforms, unveiling its own distinct charm.

Harvest date: spring 2021

Aroma: floral notes, reminiscent of jasmine and magnolia, honey undertones

Oxidation: approx. 50%.

Roasting: medium

Terroir: Pinglin, Taiwan

I'm more familiar with sheng pu'er pricing, so I won't be able to add much about the relative value of these.  Are they good for costing in the 50 cents a gram range?  I think so.  You don't find versions as inexpensive as some other types range for better quality Taiwanese oolong; it seems you pay to get versions in that category.  Up towards $1 a gram is normal, and the 50 cents per gram range for good versions is quite fair.

Maybe that's not so much, or maybe it's out of some people's budgets; it just depends on expectations.  But I doubt that you can find anything in a similar quality level in a lower price range.  There must be some decent oolong out there for less, but these have all been exceptional, well beyond decent.

I usually talk through input factors a lot more.  This doesn't discuss any differences related to Tie Guan Yin and more standard Qing Xin variations, and barely touches on the aging issue, that these are nearly 4 and 5 years old.  It works to just describe them.

Review:

2022 Lishan:  this is a bit overbrewed (ok, maybe even more than a bit); I was looking at something online and left it for over a minute.  Not ideal as controlled review processes go, but the tea will be fine.

It's a little strong, but still quite pleasant.  It will interesting seeing how a light version works out, the opposite sequence I normally experience both forms in.  Mineral tone is positive.  Feel is thick and full.  A vegetal range note is harder to place; it integrates well, and it's not negative, but it's less clearly positive.  This includes plenty of that type-typical mineral base and floral range, it's just in an unusual form for being brewed a bit strong.  

Nothing negative stands out; this is one purpose of using stronger infusions, to identify flaws better.  That vegetal range should lighten at a normal infusion strength.

2021 Formosa:  this is in a completely different flavor and character range.  It was more oxidized and more roasted, most likely.  I've always loved that effect when those two things balance well.  I think they will for this version, but again being brewed slightly strong doesn't show it's true potential, beyond highlighting that it doesn't include certain kinds of flaws.  

There's an interesting spice range in this, difficult to determine between root spice and bark spice range.  My first guess is that it spans both; it's quite complex.  One part actually is along the line of cinnamon, but there's a lot more to it.  It will help trying it lighter; that can work better for separating flavors.

Of course both have full feel and pronounced aftertaste expression, brewed a little strong.

Lishan #2:  creamy, light, sweet, and rich.  It is much better in a conventional infusion strength, but it wasn't so bad extra strong.  There's a characteristic high mountain oolong range this covers really well, a mix of base mineral, creaminess, and floral range.  I suppose this is probably identifiable as a region-specific example, and I've tried plenty of tea from different areas in Taiwan, but not enough over the last few years to stay familiar with that.  It's hard enough tracking how that goes for pu'er, which I drink much more of.  

If Tie Guan Yin is an exception for plant type for this area--which it says in a different product description--maybe the type-typical character would be harder to identify, without a lot of exposure.

It's very pleasant.  It didn't lose any brightness of freshness over nearly 4 years of settling (it's from 2022).  It probably did change, and if I'd been drinking a lot of oolong for the past half dozen years I could speculate about how.  Picking up depth?  Who knows.

I can't identify that bright floral range as a specific flower aspect flavor but anyone with even limited exposure with Taiwanese oolongs would already have a pretty good idea of what I mean.  It's not vegetal at all, in this form; that part switches back over, from when brewed too strong, back to floral range, and a flavor that actually seems a little like cream.

Formosa:  more pleasant, again, but of course just a lighter experience of the first round.  Those layers of warm and sweet spice really stand out.  Warm mineral and rich, round sort of feel complement them.  Sweetness is pleasant, for both of these.  Part of the warm, sweet range seems to resemble honey, or maybe that's caramel.  Or maybe both; this is on the complex side.  It's not far off dried fruit but I'm not noticing that standing out.  For being less distinct that could really be floral range instead.

Lishan #3:  maybe vegetal range does enter back in a bit, infused a little stronger than last time, but not overbrewed.  Intensity is good, but that was true when brewed quite light too.  Floral range is still pleasant, and creamy feel and some cream flavor stands out.  The mineral base is quite strong.  

This is exactly what many people would be looking for in a Taiwanese oolong experience.  It's familiar range.  I like it, I guess apparently just not enough to break from drinking pu'er all of the time to seek it out (and some black tea, but that's limited, more a main alternate).  I could drink this regularly and appreciate it.  In a limited sense pu'er seems more intense (sheng pu'er, I mean, of course), including bitterness, strong flavors, and a particular astringency.  But this is very complex and intense in flavor, and the rich feel and aftertaste provide secondary supporting experience.

Formosa:  I could speculate about another half dozen flavors being included in this, it's that complex.  But describing it as primarily in spice flavor range, a broad set of inclusions within that, and including mineral base, sweetness, and other range like caramel mostly gets it.  

It would work to interpret part as being a rich, heavy floral range, or seeing some of that towards-earthiness range connecting with dried fruit.  Maybe dried longan?  Only people who have tried dried longan would recognize how much of a compliment that is.  It's probably my favorite dried tropical fruit.  There's something so catchy about it that once you start eating it it can be hard to stop.  It doesn't stick around for long.  Of course once you think of the association it seems obvious, and accurate.  Let's say this tastes like dried longan, and set aside the rich floral part for now.

In later rounds the roast input didn't integrate as well, which is actually normal for this range of oolong.  I didn't take notes past these early rounds but it held up to brew quite a number more.

Both are really good.  Both are extreme examples of the positive potential of Taiwanese oolong.  I'm curious what the aging input contributed, nearly 5 and nearly 6 years for both.  They mellowed and deepened?  It almost had to be positive, given where these are now.  

There isn't a hint of negative aspect range in either.  That can be hard to appreciate, noticing something that isn't there.  And intensity and complexity is great for both.  If this more oxidized and roasted version isn't too costly it would be ideal for buying quite a bit of, to drink over the next decade, and then to experience as a truly aged version (which of course would seem all the more true after 20 years, not "only" 16).  

Looking back at the included price, added during editing, this is 50 cents a gram.  It could pay off to buy some to drink and some to forget about for awhile.  

I left out part of the personal backstory, about the tasting.  I had changed countries less than a week before, which didn't add too much jet lag, but I had cut my thumb hand-washing a knife earlier that morning, and went on to get stitches later.  I don't think it threw off my perspective much, but in retrospect it was a little strange doing a relaxing tea tasting between those two steps.  I didn't think the injury was so bad.

Our cats are just now experiencing exploring the outdoors, two kittens that are about half a year old now, or I guess maybe even 8 months.  That's not so distracting, more a pleasant step to witness.  They both just learned to climb trees this weekend.  I do end up getting up a lot, from a table outside, to check that they're not walking out into the soi / alley, going around our gate.  On a later day I climbed that tree myself, to help one down, since she hasn't figured out the down-climb process yet.

Life is all about those ups and downs, isn't it?  In two months I'll be a more direct part of my kids experiences, which I just hear about by video call now.  There's lots more drama when I'm not there, which I guess is partly a good sign, that I help keep it all tracking well when I am there.

Tea Mania Meishan and Lishan dark roast oolongs

Meishan left, Lishan right, in all photos

I'm reviewing two more versions of Taiwanese oolong from Tea Mania, from a set of samples provided for review (many thanks!).  As much just shared to try them, since I know that owner, but reviewing tea is what bloggers do.

These teas were exceptional.  That can mean different things; in some cases it's about a tea really matching a great version of a well-established type, or in others one can be quite novel.  These seem like one of each, with one a bit different than I've tried much of before, although the more-roasted, light style Lishan version also isn't exactly standard.  You don't see that balance of significant roast input and a lighter starting point (not very oxidized) that works this well.  But the Meishan version is really something else.  Maybe related to age?  It's from 2012, while the other is from 2019 (well settled, but the other seemed to pick up age related notes, that plum and extra depth).

I'll cite the vendor description and move on to review notes:

Meishan Dark Roast  (2019; $22.50 for 50 grams)

This Qingxin from Meishan is a well-oxidised oolong tea in the traditional style, expertly crafted by a renowned tea master in spring 2012. A true rarity among today’s Formosa oolongs, it features a distinctive dark roast that enhances its complexity. Grown at an altitude of 1100 meters in Meishan, the tea develops an abundance of deep aromatics characterized by floral and warming nuances reminiscent of Dongding tea, yet distinguished by a richer aroma and more intense flavor due to its high-altitude origin. The infusion presents a warm, robust yellow hue, free from bitterness even after prolonged steeping. Its fragrance is notably floral, with elegant notes of osmanthus and blossom honey. The lasting aftertaste invites contemplative enjoyment, revealing the tea’s intricate layers in each subsequent sip.

Thanks to its traditional oxidation and dark roasting, this Qingxin oolong uniquely preserves the cultivar’s inherent characteristics while imparting a rich, distinctive depth. The traditional craftsmanship ensures excellent storability, allowing its aroma to evolve gracefully over time, acquiring an enchanting maturity with age.

Harvest date: Spring 2012

Aroma: notes of honey, floral and toasty

Oxidation: approx. 50%

Roasting: strong

Cultivar: Qingxin

Terroir: Meishan, Chiayi, Taiwan

In writing review notes I was curious about pricing for this, since it really is so exceptional that it would be hard to identify a standard level for that.  At nearly 50 cents a gram this still seems like a steal to me.  You would typically have to use less mainstream curator sourcing to find teas like this.  Tea Mania only sells pretty good teas, so I guess those vendor types tend to not be completely distinct.

Lishan Dark Roast  (2019; $31.22 for 50 grams)

Lishan Dark Roast is a medium-oxidized, medium-strong roasted highland tea from Lishan using tea leaves of the Qingxin cultivar. Qingxin means green heart. It is the cultivar with the longest history of cultivation in Taiwan, the most popular among tea farmers and tea drinkers alike, and by far the most widely cultivated. When people talk about Oolong in Taiwan, they usually refer to it as “Qingxin-Oolong”. It is the same cultivar from which the traditional, genuine Dongding is made...

Lishan Dark Roast is a medium-oxidized, traditionally processed highland tea from Lishan. Due to the medium oxidation, the tea has a honey-like yet flowery aroma, which is complemented by the stronger body and more intensive taste experience typical of Oolong tea. The leaves are processed traditionally, resulting in red edges. The reverberation in the mouth is still clearly perceptible even over a longer period of time and it is a pleasure to trace the character of the tea in meditative silence and to fathom its complex character more and more.

Lishan Dark Roast is medium-strong roasted, which adds layers of flavor including warm, nutty notes, hints of caramel, and roasted barley. But, the character of highland teas is still clearly visible. Due to the traditional processing, it can be stored without any problems and without losing its aroma. With increasing age, the aroma changes and develops its very own charm.

Harvest time: spring 2019

Aroma: floral, with notes of honey, nuts and caramel

Oxidation: approx. 40%

Roasting: medium-strong

Cultivar: Qingxin

Terroir: Lishan, Nantou, Taiwan

This is priced a little higher than the other.  Preference is what determines how much someone connects with each tea, and I've always loved a bit more oxidation balance in well-roasted oolongs.  But that other version is really something; all those layers of richer, deeper flavors, maybe related to it aging for an extra 7 years.  

This second tea is well balanced, and quality is evident, so it's also good.  And around 60 cents a gram is probably pretty standard for way better than average quality, distinctive Lishan oolong.  Maybe even still a good value, but that first version is really unique.

Review:

Meishan #1:  this brews a lot darker than the other; that's interesting.  I may or may not be able to guess why.  This is going to be too light to get much of a sense of.  I let it go a lot longer than the 15 second or so typical infusion time, maybe double that, but it wasn't enough to open the rolled form.  The first impression is good; this tastes like dark caramel, with a good bit of complex range beyond that.  Maybe plum?  As a 2012 tea, 13 years old, that aged effect could be present.  A little spice range shows up beyond that.

Lishan:  even light this is really creamy and pleasant.  Feel is creamy, and taste is sweet, and not unlike cream.  It might include a much lighter caramel note.  These are going to be pretty good.  If the other version, the first one, is as good as it initially seems it would be hard to set a fair market price for it.  Aged oolong is expensive, and it's most often what seemed to be left behind somewhere, forgotten about, but this initially seems to be something else, a truly exceptional version.

Meishan #2:  it's very unique; good luck having a vaguely comparable experience to this tea through any other version.  I'm not saying that it's that much better than a lot of other range, but this just doesn't come up, per what I've experienced.  Or maybe it often does, and I've been focusing on sheng pu'er for so long that I've missed a lot of range that's out there.

A set of complementary flavors balance against each other; there is no one or two dominant aspects.  One part is plum, but it's integrated with the rest.  Another is dark caramel, and that stands out more than most of the rest.  Beyond that a warm, sweet, earthy range tastes a bit like a light roasted coffee to me.  Or spice, or maybe it's that both are present.  A heavy, mineral intensive flavor could resemble aged leather.  In the wrong context that wouldn't be as pleasant, but in this it balances well with the rest.

Feel is really rich too.  It's clean in effect, with a good sweetness level.  Aftertaste experience adds complexity.  It's like a checklist of what can go well in tea.  There's even a cognac like aromatic layer that seems to only show up in really high quality tea versions, within a certain range of types, not so uncommon in exceptional Wuyi Yancha versions.  I suppose if someone was looking for flaws a touch of sourness might be interpreted as such.  But to me it integrates well with the spice layer, as a flavor that makes sense along with that, and it's likely to drop out quickly.

Lishan:  of course this comes across as simpler, but it holds its own reasonable well for also being a solid tea, and for expressing different character.  The roast level works well for this, perhaps a bit lighter than for the other, or maybe it's that aging effect warms the tone of the other.  This is a 2019 version so it has had time to settle.  Floral range stands out more, and creaminess.  The creamy flavor, and to some extent feel, are more balanced by other range, with the rest stronger.  Feel has good fullness and richness.  

I suppose to some extent it suffers in comparison with the other, because that other complexity is really something, so many layers standing out at the same time, along with novel and exceptional flavor range.  This is more what you would expect from a well-balanced, good quality, high roast level Taiwanese oolong.  Floral range isn't as bright and light as in light versions, but it's not completely unlike that.  Mineral depth is there; that's a typical positive balancing aspect.

Meishan #3:  I'm brewing these between 15 and 20 seconds.  They would work well brewed faster or slower; the character would just balance differently.  Intensity is fine for using 10 second timing instead, and nothing negative would probably stand out brewed for half a minute.  I just don't prefer them either of those ways.

Creaminess seems to pick up; interesting.  Dark caramel had probably shifted to a medium caramel last round, and this is lighter, more like butterscotch.  There is an awful lot going on beyond that, but it seems to integrate to a complex background range at this stage.  You get a sense of depth.  If it had included sourness last round, which would've been a judgment call, you can't detect that now.  

Lishan:  this evolves to come across as more complex, and warmer in tone.  It's interesting how they're transitioning in two completely different ways.  In a limited sense it's more like the other, but they're still kind of different.  It still resembles the typical floral range of Taiwanese oolong more, but the warm tones are something else.  Producers can set a roast level wherever they like, but this probably needed those extra years to settle to be this exceptional.  Roasting it this much might seem like a gamble, and my guess is that it's paying off more now than it would have within the first year or two.

Peter, the Tea Mania owner, has mentioned that it's hard to try oolong versions and get a clear sense of what is going to be exceptional years later.  They settle in ways that are hard to predict.  All of this is what I don't experience enough of to get a sense of it, since I drank a lot more oolongs of different types prior to switching mostly to sheng, maybe 6 or 8 years ago.  Even then I drank more Wuyi Yancha.  Even if I had been drinking more Taiwanese oolongs regularly my tea budget wouldn't have supported trying many teas of this quality level.  In the same way the highest end range of sheng pu'er has only been available through trying samples, I guess, and mostly some that are sent for review.

direct sunlight threw off coloration; the two were more balanced in color this round

Meishan #4:  not so different than last round.  It's creamy and warm, with good depth, a nice mineral base, caramel range (or butterscotch; it's a judgment call), and probably some spice beyond that.  People could interpret it differently.  It could taste like cacao to some, or warm floral range instead.  When flavors are this complex what you get is kind of an interpretation.  Seeing one part as a warm wood tone might make sense, or leather, which seemed to match better in an early round, or maybe even cinnamon.  To me it's closer to cinnamon than those others.  It's really clean for including some of that earthier range.

Lishan:  also not transitioning as much as before, settling into a nice character.  It's nice experiencing that typical floral and mineral base range in a completely different form like this.  I was worried that these might be a little like Tie Guan Yin versions that are really light, that are re-roasted to restore deadened flavor effect.  Of course they're better tea than that, made more intentionally, but the higher roast and lower oxidation level inputs taken together can be a little off-putting.  This isn't like that.  I suppose if someone hated the high roast effect (probably medium-high; high roast implies a tea is all but charred, and this isn't), combined with brighter oolong floral range, then maybe it isn't so good, but I think most tea drinkers could relate positively to this.  

The other tea is something else again though.  It's not just a better version of a style that I've tried before, it's something relatively new to me.  I've tried some aged oolongs, maybe a half dozen versions (in rolled style, this Taiwanese range; twisted style range is something else), but nothing that balances in this sort of way.  That reminds me; I bought a decent amount of a 1992 version that I liked, that I haven't retried in a number of years; eventually I should check in on that.

I'll leave off here, since the story seems to be mostly told.  It's a busy errand day, since I leave to go back to Honolulu in less than a week, and I'm still working through cats being sick.  I might go visit them at the vet today, where they stay, even though I was there yesterday, since it will be a busy week, and I may not see much of them. 

I visited the cats that day, and once more a day or two later, and they're back to normal, quite lively.

Wanmu Tea Garden (Xinyang, Henan producer) Dong Fang Mei Ren

 

first and second samples

third sample

I'm trying three more versions of another type of tea from the Wanmu Tea Garden (small factory producer), a Xinyang, Henan (China) tea producer.  There is a little more background on them from trying two yellow tea versions, that were exceptional, but I've still not turned up more depth of background.  Their website mentions a more history than that blog post, but nothing on this tea type.

These are presented as versions of Dong Fang Mei Ren, more commonly known in Western tea circles as either Oriental Beauty or Eastern / Asian Beauty (renaming around "oriental" moving to seem negative).  The other sample I have yet to try is described as an award winning black tea; it is probably a more standard offering type from them.  They would sell a tea like this, but may well be working out processing details, or which inputs make the best version of it.  

The review part goes into issues of it being true to type, and why to some extent that may not apply.  Some tea types are source-area limited, as pu'er is (from Yunnan), or Japanese tea versions (sencha, gyokuro, matcha, and others).  Teas like Wuyishan area oolongs or Longjing green tea could potentially be made from material from other places, but those are source limited too, so only versions from the original area would be authentic.  

It's my understanding that Dong Fang Mei Ren / Oriental Beauty is a style, relating to plant type, location input, and processed form, but that it's not tied to one origin area, beyond originating in Taiwan.  Good versions are made outside of Taiwan, in Thailand and Vietnam, produced by copying those three main inputs as closely as possible.  Those use plant types from Taiwan, which should also relate to using bug-bitten material.  

These teas are made using local plant types, so they won't be as similar.  I didn't know that when trying the first two samples, and had talked to my Wanmu contact prior to trying the third, to cover that by then.  So the goal, for them, might be to produce the best quality, most pleasant tea possible, using comparable but different inputs, that won't necessarily match the original aspect range closely.  Oxidation level is one main related concern, which I go into more in these notes.

Review:

#1, first infusion:  this looks a little lighter than the other, more golden and less towards golden-amber; it's surely less oxidized.  It will be interesting to see how that works out.

Flavor is interesting; very complex, covering more ground than is typical for just about any tea version or type.  It includes warm, rich, sweet tones and also some greener, lighter, more vegetal range.  It's a little early to say that's going to amount to a flaw or limitation but that's a natural early impression.  

The warm and rich flavors present are right for Dong Fang Mei Ren, which I still think of as Oriental Beauty.  There's honey sweetness and a citrus note, not extending into warm cinnamon type spice much, but it's complex in different directions, potentially including that.  Sure, I think it's there.  The vegetal note is along the line of green wood.  As a primary flavor input that wouldn't be good at all, but it balances better than it sounds in this.  

The feel has a bit of a related edge, almost implying bitterness is also present in the flavor.  It's in that space where feel and taste seem to overlap, astringency and bitterness.

#2:  interesting, also quite different.  I was expecting at least one of these to completely match the standard DFMR / OB flavor profile, but neither really do.  This is warmer and richer, and that part works.  Sweetness is ok; it would seem sweeter if there were more of an associated fruit note, which doesn't stand out, but there's some to make it balance.  There's a wood range flavor that's completely different than the mild green wood in the other, in this case more along the line of cured oak.  Someone might interpret that associated dry feel as linking with sourness, versus bitterness.  That's not how DFMR / OB goes.

I really thought that I'd be discussing how these fall well within standard DFMR range, describing how fruit in one compares to more cinnamon in the other, or something such.  Instead this might be about how they vary from that range.  These were presented as experimental tea versions, not a finished product that they've been producing for awhile.  That impression came from those yellow teas being absolutely spot-on for character, and very pleasant in aspect range.  Even great related to flavor complexity, cleanness, depth, and balance.  These two versions could be interpreted as showing flaws as much as promise, and falling much further from trueness to type.

Maybe that could relate to using a very different plant type material than what DFMR / OB is usually made from?  I don't know that part.  Of course processing also comes into play, and growing conditions inputs.  I'll try a lighter version of both; that may help them stand out more positively.

This makes me wonder what the third sample is like.  I won't know until I try it.

#1, second infusion:  it balances better.  Honey sweetness stands out as a dominant flavor this round, which is typically pleasant, in a lot of mixed flavor contexts.  This tastes a lot more like a good Jin Jun Mei I just tried at a favorite Chinatown shop recently than one would imagine it could.  I wonder if they could make something similar?

Fruit drops back, maybe extending into dried fruit more, maybe apricot.  The wood tone does soften, and for the most part transitions out.  It's not exactly type-typical for OB (I'll start writing the shorter form), but it's as close as these have been, and it's quite pleasant.  Feel is full, without much astringency, beyond that fullness.  You probably wouldn't think of green wood, or even vegetal range, when trying this, for this infusion.

#2:  this is better as well.  That wood tone has softened, with more complexity entering in.  Astringency hangs in there more, in that different form, but it decreases, with broader positive flavors making it balance better.  It is a lot closer to cinnamon spice; that's one decent interpretation for a main flavor input.  A good bit of wood offsets how one experiences that.  

It seems like oxidation level for both of these might be a little low, maybe less so for the second one, but possibly even for it.  Then maybe the material isn't as suited for this tea type, or at least it might not be able to duplicate how Taiwanese oolong material ends up in that form.  Looking up standard online references don't mention the plant type used, or at least the first two didn't, so I asked Google's AI to fill that in:

Oriental Beauty tea is made from a specific cultivar of the Camellia sinensis plant, but its unique flavor comes from being bitten by the tea green leafhopper. The insect bites damage the leaves, causing the plant to produce a special chemical reaction that creates a natural honey-like aroma and sweet taste. The tea is a type of oolong tea that requires this specific, pesticide-free process to achieve its distinct qualities. 

Plant: The base is the Camellia sinensis tea plant, with a cultivar often used being Chin-shin Dah-pang, notes Nih.

Insect: The tea green leafhopper (Jacobiasca formosana) bites the leaves, stems, and buds.

Flavor development: The insect bites trigger a defense response in the plant, leading to the production of chemicals like diol, which are converted into compounds like hotrienol during processing.

Pesticide-free: This process is only possible on tea plants that have not been sprayed with pesticides.

It's usually bug-bitten, as this covers.  I thought that Qing Xin / Chin Shin would've been a common plant type used, but one from Thailand I reviewed not long ago used a #17 variant, with good outcome.  Here's that review; it was from Tea Side (a Thai vendor selling Thai teas online), and that was the Ruan Zhi / Bai Lu cultivar, however one names that.

In looking up that reference I ran across lots I've written about lots of OB versions, from different places, made from different cultivars (plant types).  It would work to scan through another dozen posts here to get a feel for different range.  I won't go into what it means here here, but this covers lots of local Taiwanese cultivars / plant types:

this TRES / TTES content is off that agency site now, I think, so attribution would require some extra steps finding it on the wayback machine

#1, third infusion:  it's even better; this is evolving to taste a bit like bees' wax, not just honey.  That's really like Jin Jun Mei then (Fujian black tea from the Wuyishan area).  It's odd that it's so close, for being less oxidized (seemingly).  Kittichai, the Jip Eu Chinatown shop owner, just mentioned that good Jin Jun Mei should be a little less oxidized; it may relate to that, that the black tea style is also like that.

For flavor list this also includes a bit of citrus and dried fruit, and limited warm tone range, some mineral.  Feel is quite pleasant.  The vegetal edge is diminished, but I suppose a little is still there.  It's not that close to type-typical original OB but it's good.

#2:  warmer toned, which one would expect to match OB better, but that one wood flavor aspect and slightly dryer feel really throws that off.  It's also pretty good, but I suppose I like the first more.  It balances better, for the green wood and astringency generally dropping out.  This does include some fruit, but it's harder to appreciate as separate from a cured wood flavor range.  I tend to describe warm toned dried fruit as like tamarind, as a default, and it's not so far from that, just probably not so close either.  It probably works better to say it includes some dried Chinese date, jujube, and then a warm mineral tone that seems to link is really something else.

It's pleasant, but if this is an experimental tea it may not be quite there yet.  It's not balanced and pleasant enough.

Second review, the third type:

first infusion:  again a bit more vegetal than DFMR / OB tends to be.  The flavors are nice, bright, clean, and complex, but the range is completely different than that standard oolong type.  Some sort of warm tones are there, in the background, but this is mostly floral with some green wood sort of vegetal range, so completely different.  Maybe there's a touch of citrus fruit; I'll check again next round.

#2:  this tea is interesting for balancing between two different things.  On the one hand the astringency and vegetal range (mostly flavor related, not feel) ties to a lighter themed tea, not really a standard type that's easy to reference, but along the lines of green or light oolong.  Since it's a non-standard form it might come across as less approachable or positive, just due to being unfamiliar.  

Then on the other side it also balances well, and is clean and complex, so it has a range of positive character going for it.  It just doesn't completely "make sense," related to falling outside of expectations.  Not just for DFMR / OB, but related to the entire range of standard tea types.  In a sense it tastes like an adjusted version of a green tea, not an oolong.

Setting all that aside the actual aspects are pleasant.  It includes some kind of non-descript fruit and floral range, and that doesn't really oppose the vegetal range (towards "green").  That last aspect is closest to green wood, but it might be even closer to a somewhat unfamiliar vegetable type.  Bitterness is really moderate, but present, but the flavor isn't so far off bitter gourd.  If that's unfamiliar I suppose it's a little towards okra?

In talking to Gisele about these, that tea contact, who works for them, she said that it probably wouldn't match normal DFMR / OB character for using a different, local plant type, and for growing conditions being different.  And of course processing steps wouldn't be a complete match; this isn't oxidized as much.  She said that her understanding is the range for OB is 60 to 85% oxidation level, and I suppose that kind of works, even though that kind of designation is problematic.  80 to 85 might be more normal, probably even overlapping with the lower end range of black tea (Shai Hong, often more lightly oxidized Dian Hong, as a sun-dried variation).

#3:  a little more spice emerges, and the tone warms; this creeps a little closer to standard OB range.  Deeper fruit tones seem to pick up, replacing brighter range that had seemed split between floral tones and fruit earlier on.  It's dried fruit, along the line of dried apricot.  This may well be my favorite of these three versions, but the "#1" version was pretty good too.  The third, the second I tried, had a bit of warm cured wood flavor, and dryness of feel, that threw it off a bit, to me.

It's odd judging these based on my judgment.  I love Oriental Beauty, so that should work, but I don't love green tea range as much as all other tea types.  If it's especially vegetal, like Japanese green teas tasting like seaweed, that's not so pleasant, per my preference.  This vegetal range matches with other green tea range, I guess.  I suppose it should match with Xinyang Maojian, the main type they make in this area.

#4:  a hint of citrus picks up, maybe along the line of tangerine peel.  This is the best that it's been.  If tones were a good bit warmer, if this had been more oxidized, it might actually come closer to normal OB range.  It's still good, it's just a different kind of tea.  I'm not sure that vegetal edge would ever completely drop out, but more oxidation may transition it quite a bit.  Just a guess; I really wouldn't know.

Brightness is good, how clean this is in effect, and intensity and complexity.  Sweetness level is good.  Feel is fuller and richer than it sounds, given how one might expect astringency to pair with some bitterness and vegetal flavor range.  There is some astringency, but it's limited.  It's not full, round, and smooth as light oolongs tend to be, but there is some fullness to it.

A green tea drinker who also likes light oolong might absolutely love this.  But it's hard for me to see it from that kind of perspective.  

I completely "get" Dan Cong, and the clean nature, intensity, and refinement match for this, but the flavor profile is completely different (from that oolong type).  And the feel.  There is a characteristic astringency edge to lower quality Dan Cong that partly matches part of this better than the smooth, rich, full, approachable nature of higher quality Dan Cong versions.  I've always wondered what that's about.  Does it relate to using more whole leaf, to growing tea at higher altitude, to getting processing steps just right?  Maybe all of those, or maybe it's something else.

#5:  hanging in there; this is still the best it's been, which is quite pleasant.  Again I think this is my favorite of the three versions.  To review the flavor list, which I keep mentioning in relation to what changes, in order of intensity, this is balanced between expressing dried apricot, a bit of citrus, cinnamon, and a vegetal range note, now in between a wood tone and some type of gourd.  If it's easier to relate to that last vegetal aspect isn't far off the small eggplant version Thais often use, which is almost nothing like the purple eggplant used in the US.

It's good.  It's not very close to standard Taiwanese OB, but still pleasant.  Thai versions of OB (I've probably reviewed a half dozen here) are much closer to that, but it's not a fair comparison, since they've imported those Taiwanese oolong related plant types, and are trying to replicate the growing conditions and processing steps.  Same for Vietnamese versions.  This is something else, that has to be judged as something different.  The more you expect it to be "type-typical" the worse it comes out in judgment.  Judged as a varied form of OB that leans a little towards green tea two of these versions would seem exceptional.

Tea Mania Alishan winter Qingxin and 2012 Guifei oolong

 

Back to reviewing, a week into being back in Bangkok.  I might as well start with some familiar and pleasant teas, and then move on to less familiar and also pleasant ones.

I've had great experiences with winter harvest oolongs in the past, just not enough of them that I'll turn that into cross-references here.  Of course Qingxin is the name of the older style of plant type, which comes in a range of different derived forms, with different evolved plant genetics.  

I've had positive experiences with Guifei too, a bug-bitten material input variation of rolled oolong.  This says the Gui Fei is from 2012, which almost looks like a typo.  A 13 year old oolong, from a vendor that typically doesn't sell aged tea?  It's probably not a typo; the owner, Peter, is pretty on top of things.

I'll add the product descriptions from a site listing later, after writing the notes.

Alishan Winter Qingxin ($25 USD for 50 grams)

Alishan Winter Qingxin is a lightly oxidized high mountain oolong tea, harvested at an elevation of 1500 meters. It originates from Taiwan’s renowned Alishan region, known for its ideal tea-growing conditions of frequent mist, fertile soils, and clean, fresh mountain air. These conditions, however, also present significant production challenges, requiring exceptional skill and careful selection by experienced tea masters.

The tea garden’s unique location on Alishan, with its frequent mist and significant temperature variations, imparts exceptional refinement and natural sweetness to this Qingxin oolong. The infusion presents itself in a warm, luminous yellow color, remaining free from bitterness or unpleasant flavors even with prolonged steeping. From the cup emerges a delicate and sophisticated fragrance of orchids, gentle yet distinctly present. The silky, smooth texture and refreshing sweetness create a harmonious taste experience, offering tranquility and inviting thoughtful appreciation.

Harvest date: winter 2022

Aroma: floral, with notes of orchid and acacia honey

Oxidation: approx. 30%

Roasting: light

Cultivar: Qingxin

Terroir: Alishan, Nantou, Taiwan

Guifei Oolong  (2012; $37.72 for 50 grams)

This Guifei Oolong, also known as Concubine Oolong, originates from the renowned tea-growing region Dongding in Nantou and was harvested in the spring of 2012 and processed by a renowned tea master. Made from the popular Jinxuan cultivar, this tea is known for its exceptional quality and distinctive character.

The infusion presents itself in a golden amber hue and is accompanied by a rich, sweet fragrance with hints of honey, ripe fruit, and light floral notes. On the palate, the tea reveals a smooth, velvety texture with pronounced sweetness and a long-lasting aftertaste. Thanks to expert craftsmanship and ideal storage since its harvest, this Guifei Oolong has developed an even more complex and harmonious character over time, making it a true delight for tea enthusiasts.

Harvest date: spring 2012

Aroma: high aromatic, flowery and fruity, notes of honey

Oxidation: approx. 70%

Roasting: strong

Cultivar: Jinxuan

Terroir: Dongding, Nantou,Taiwan

There's more there about the bug-bitten theme, about the processing style, and the historical background of the style.  These are interesting themes.

Review:

Alishan oolong left, in all photos

Alishan Winter Qingxin:  it's nice.  A little light yet, still opening up, but the flavors are warm and toasty.  I suppose malt stands out, or something close enough to that.  This should evolve to include a really pleasant and rich feel; that's already started.  It's creamy as well, in terms of flavor as well as that feel.  There's a lot to appreciate in this, and that list of aspects will keep going later.  Mineral range really stands out.  It's not really light or heavy mineral, but a complex form, more in the middle.

Guifei (from 2012):  as far as the other being as good as this, or not matching up, it's really not a fair comparison.  That's a great version of the style that is, but good Guifei is really nice, and this has probably picked up lots of depth from that aging.

There really could be a typical plum-like flavor component that has entered in due to the aging, but this includes so much for fruit and warm spice tones that it's hard to tell.  Spice might be closest to nutmeg; warm, aromatic, and complex.  Fruit could include plum, but there's more.  It's warm and rich enough that it's more in dried fruit range, maybe combining prune, raisin, and dried apricot.  Feel is also already rich.  There's a bit more fullness in this related to it being warmer and heavier in tone, so where the other is full and creamy as lighter oolongs are (like cream) this feel has some structure to it.  Not quite astringency, nothing like that, but some of the fullness that typically pairs with that.

It's amazing this is just the first round.  I brewed these a bit long to get them to open up, maybe just over a minute, but the proportion isn't maxed out, my typical approach.  This might be 6 grams or so of each.

Alishan 2:  intensity picks up a lot, and it wasn't even moderate to begin with, already above average.  The same flavor description works:  lots of supporting mineral base, creaminess, and malt-like warmth.  A bit of limited vegetal range enters in, not far off floral range, or maybe it's floral tones and some sort of vegetal input.  That vegetal range is close enough to holy basil, so really where spice and vegetables overlap.  Sweetness is good, and the full feel contributes well, along with notable aftertaste expression (long finish, put another way).  

It's quite clean; nothing in this is remotely negative.  Some would probably interpret it as a lot more floral than I've been mentioning.  It's a subdued form of floral tone though, like chrysanthemum, or sunflower.  Some of that rich malt-like tone might resemble sunflower seeds, now that I think of it. 

Guifei 2:  the pronounced spice note in this is really nice.  It might resemble cinnamon more this round, but also relates to nutmeg.  Depth is nice, and the range of supporting dried fruit.  That last part didn't become more distinct.  It's hard to identify how close it is to plum, or what the exact mix of other dried fruit tones are.  It's also quite clean in effect, and also complex, also exhibiting good feel.  Aftertaste expression is there, just not quite as pronounced as for the other version.  Lighter oolongs tend to be noteworthy for that, and the Alishan version isn't really in a light style, but it's medium, in an unusual sense.

Alishan 3:  this must be transitioning some, but it's hard to say how.  The same aspects just shift a little in relative balance.  This is really exactly what I've loved most about winter oolongs that I've tried in the past, that warmer tone, leaning towards spice range, settling in nicely on malt.  This is a really good quality example of one.  

This kind of effect is why Taiwanese oolongs tend to still hold an edge over Thai or Vietnamese versions.  There's nothing stopping a producer in those areas from making a fantastic version of the same tea, but all the conditions and inputs tend to line up well for some versions from Taiwan.  

The intensity is great; it's hard to pin down how that kind of input factors in.  Of course you can just brew any version a little stronger, but this hits really positive notes well, even brewed fast (this was a very short infusion time, not much over 10 seconds).  If you push other lower quality versions to get the same intensity the aspects won't be as positive.  They won't balance in the same way, and the effect won't be this clean and positive.

Guifei 3:  again it's not changing enough to revise that earlier flavor list, just settling into a slightly different balance.  

I'll probably try one more round and leave off; I need to get on with bathing three cats, and one of them is crying out to be let outside, which isn't going to happen until later on.  I should take pictures of them and add them here.  

Myra is in more than a dozen photos here, probably, the oldest, but the two kitten siblings are adorable at about 3 or 4 times their former size, from 6 weeks ago.  They must be about 4 months old now.  One is a Siamese cat, with such a cute and prized appearance that my wife is nervous about ever letting her roam outside, out of fear that someone would steal her.  Someone might.  Myra won't venture beyond our gate and fences, but it's hard to know where a cat new to exploring the area might go.  Nong On and Sai Thong would go explore roof areas, when they were with us, but we've lost both of them this year, in circumstances too disturbing to cover here.

As for a personal update, while I'm rambling on, I've had shingles for the past two weeks, a skin problem related to having chicken pox earlier on in life.  It's adjoined by significant pain; that part wasn't so nice.  I've not experience that much pain, since a burn and broken arm in early childhood.  Now I get it, about people working through that ongoing experience.  In my case it's like a leg cramp that doesn't go away, that sharp and deep pain, that doesn't persist from leg cramps.  I'm mostly on the other side of it now; the pain is less, and I have meds around for when it might tend to peak.  

I'm eager to go run again.  The doctor didn't see that as a well-grounded plan, saying that it would impact my immune system function, but I'm not so sure.  Early on in illnesses that seems right, but at the end exercise seems to help with recovery (per my experience, to be taken with a grain of salt).

these are naturally so intense that brewing them a little light makes sense

Alishan 4:  it's all integrating more, but I kind of liked how distinct the parts were earlier on.  Warmth is more general, not centered on a creamy, malty flavor as much.  Mineral base still stands out, maybe just not quite as much.  It's still really nice, I just liked that earlier form better.

Guifei:  that same basic set of aspects still remains, the spice, dried fruit, and warmer background or base tones that are harder to appreciate.  Probably what I'm not describing is a lot of what is giving this the effect of so much complexity, depth, and balance.  It tastes like incense spice, or aromatic dark tropical wood, or aged furniture (or maybe the oils used to preserve those?).  It has good depth and balance.  It's not really fading, which it shouldn't be, only 4 rounds in, but flavors can transition to level off some within that timing.  

These really did last for many more infusions, it's just that the notes leave off here.

Conclusions

These are both really good teas, in two completely different styles, and to me this is a really unique and positive experience.  I could drink a kilogram of either, even though I tend not to drink much oolong these days, for focusing on pu'er.  I love the intensity in pu'er (sheng, of course).  These have good complexity and intensity, but lack that same kind of edge, the bitterness and astringency, the overall shock of it all being so strong, even when brewed light.  I remember tasting with neighbors once, a very pleasant experience, telling one about how sheng can come across like a slap in the face.  She was surprised, and said that it was more like a kick in the face, somehow in a good sense.  If you are ok with the bitterness that intensity can balance well.  It's odd that she liked it, on her first try.

Whether or not this Guifei is from 2012 this is the kind of experience that people really tend to value, and that you typically have to pay a good bit to have [later edit; it is a 2012 tea].  If this isn't priced at or over $1 a gram I'd be surprised, and it would be a steal at two thirds that price range.  The winter oolong version is novel, since these are around, but finding a version this good would be tricky.

[more later edit]: it's 75 cents a gram, so still quite fair, for what the tea is.  There might not be another quite similar version of tea anywhere on the internet.  Or the next place you check could carry the same tea, but the odds are much better that nothing like it is out there.  Aged oolong was quite trendy and in high demand about a decade ago, and there was only so much to go around then.  I wrote about this theme awhile back (5 years ago), about what tends to turn up.  The plum-like input in aged rolled oolongs might stand out more at the 20 year mark, but this flavor is so complex that it might still come across as a mix of different fruit and spice then. 

That's kind of the theme for this vendor.  He sells versions of teas that are so good that they really represent their categories and styles well.  Lots are "gushu" sheng pu'er, which is kind of an often-overused selling point theme, but for really nice versions of sheng you can set aside considering plant age and just appreciate the aspects, the experience.

I've complained of not being able to buy teas in a higher than average price range before (or just noted it, depending on interpretation of tone).  Somehow, according to my wife, our budget is such a mess just now that the theme has progressed to me not being able to buy any tea, at any price range.  Flying back and forth from Hawaii doesn't help, and a long series of health crises across our family was problematic, both to experience and related to budget impact.  It's nice that some vendors have been helping me out; I really can't complain, when I have another 20 or so really novel and good teas to get to.  

I'll even see tea friends, and an old friend, here over the next two weeks, so I'll have more to report on about that event theme.  I'd trade it all to be a housekeeper and cook for my kids back in Hawaii, but we work with what we've got.  

Back to this subject, these oolongs, and related to somewhat aged oolongs in general, these teas were exceptional enough that it wasn't easy to frame that part.  The descriptions are positive, but both are a good bit better than just "positive."  That is what it is; it makes no sense to me to fill a post with superlatives to drive home a point about general context.  Within these style and type ranges these were great, and these are two of my favorite type ranges within the scope of rolled oolong.

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.