What does it mean when tea versions aren't type-typical?

 

an atypical wild origin Thai oolong, left, and a more standard Oriental Beauty (DFMR) version

This is something I've been giving a lot of thought to lately.  I just re-tried a Thai oolong that doesn't match an established oolong style closely (based on Assamica material; one might expect that), and realized that it's quite pleasant in a completely different way (than related to standard oolong range).  

I would've said that in the review (from a month or so ago), but somehow what it means to me has changed in that month, or at least I'm working back through it again.  Looking back that tea was reviewed along with a Jin Xuan cultivar based Dong Fang Mei Ren (OB) version; that's not completely typical either.

Often how I frame ideas in very specific communication helps, when I respond to a group post theme, or when I'm discussing an issue with a friend or producer.  Drawing on that form, this is what I've recently said to a producer about this subject, about that oolong:

I just had the rest of that oolong with breakfast, and it's quite pleasant.  One thing I've been considering lately is that my expectations about teas being "type-typical," about matching styles I expect, may limit how much I can appreciate some versions.  I've been considering this for a long time, but I'm seeing it in a new way recently, related to having a lot of experiences with that theme.

I don't mean that I described that tea negatively, when I shouldn't have.  What I mean is that everyone's expectations would be colored by that, to some extent.  How well people like teas that don't match a specific style closely may relate to maturity of their tea experience.  It would take a long time to learn how different styles are expressed, then even longer to move past that as a main framework for evaluating teas.  I'm not finished with the second part, I don't think.

For more background, I've been using Moychay tea versions as comparison in some recent posts, because they sent some samples to review (as in that post).  Some of them are very pleasant, but not completely type-typical, usually only related to a single aspect not completely matching, so not that far off.  Or in that case presenting an OB version made from a different plant type (variations of Qing Xin are more normal, I think, but this isn't a key point in this content, and maybe that's not right).

I try to express that this kind of variation isn't necessarily negative, since some people would like many kinds of changes better, but at the same time a very close match to expectations could be positive in a limited way, in that it's what someone is probably often trying to buy.  And if they want to have the most typical experience related to building up awareness of types that works better.

That Assamica based oolong included a touch of atypical roasted input flavor, and the feel is structured differently.  It's all exactly what one would expect from wild-origin, different plant type tea (from variety Assamica instead of Sinensis, as most oolong is produced from).

The wild origin material theme really changes a lot.  In many cases oolongs are made from controlled genetics cultivars, for example from Jin Xuan, from #12 in a series of identified, cross-bred tea types (most typically produced as a light style, rolled form oolong).  Even teas made from traditional, older, conventionally established plant types--oolongs from Taiwan, Anxi, Fujian, and Guanzhou China, as types of Tie Guan Yin, Wuyi Yancha versions, and Dan Cong--would tend to be a limited range of things.  Cultivar genetics wouldn't be controlled, but plant types would tend to be similar, or would vary across a narrow range (which is two ways of saying the same thing, those last statements).

A plant growing out in a forest doesn't change it's genetics, but plant types can evolve and drift a bit as different plants die and are naturally re-initiated.  They can cross-breed themselves, more or less.  Maybe having a lot of other varying vegetation around changes outcome quite a bit, as many believe, but that's something else.

So far this is heading towards an assumed conclusion that we should also appreciate aspects and styles as they are, instead of filtering our enjoyment into narrow style and type preferences.  But why?  That kind of works, but neither extreme seems necessary, or intuitively right.

Processing inputs are something else, that we would consider differently.  Producers evolve production processes over time, grouped into distinctive approaches and styles, and in the best cases what works best gets carried on, and what doesn't is filtered out.  So these traditional final-outcome styles represent that, as the most possible outcome that producer feels that they are able to achieve.  

Broad preferences for styles and aspects can still vary over time.  For whatever reasons a lot of higher level oxidation and roast input to different types of oolongs, from different areas, has been getting unselected, with lighter styles becoming more dominant.  This isn't a recent trend; Marshal N wrote quite a bit about this in his early "A Tea Addict's Journal" blog.  That was mostly critique of modern "nuclear green" Tie Guan Yin being unfavorable, not as pleasant as traditional more oxidized and roasted versions, and not as favorable for your stomach (per his take, but there's a lot of truth to be considered in almost everything he says, or said).  But he also must have made other comparable observations about other types and styles, at different points.

I recently tried a Dan Cong that was made in that older style--assuming that one accepts what I've described as a broadly applicable and accurate generalization, which probably doesn't completely work--and it was very favorable.  That review was here, which compared that to a much lighter style Dan Cong version.  So why don't producers stick with earlier styles that seem so pleasant?

that second one is a little light, right?

Maybe it relates to preferences shifting over time.  Maybe the additional processing steps add difficulty, without bringing additional sales draw, in terms of increasing demand and selling price.  I don't really know; I would expect that causes and conditions are complicated.

This concern makes teas falling within limited types and styles being "type-typical" a moving target.  Could Assamica (plant type) material based oolong ever become conventional?  It seems unlikely, but it could become more established.  Could a broad demand for a lot of more oxidized and roasted oolongs become common again?  Sure, that seems more likely.  Or maybe that never actually dropped out, but producers and vendors were able to sell really light versions for a long time, in high volume, even though perhaps a broad sub-set of tea consumers didn't ever want that.

My overall favorite oolong producer, Wuyi Origin, favors a fairly light style, in general.  But then they also produce oolongs in a range of different styles, related to all of the inputs, so they can serve a broad audience with different preferences that way.  They are pretty good about accurately describing styles of what they sell, stopping short of a long flavor list breakdown, which I think makes sense.  People only need a sense of what they are buying, not a complete and detailed interpretation, which can vary by person anyway.

What else comes up related to these recent reviews; what can I pass on from them?  At times one aspect that seems like a very limited negative, perhaps even a flaw, can seem to affect a final judgment in a disproportionate way.  I think it's possible to focus too much on an ideal, and hold expectations that are too prone to ranking experiences, instead of just appreciating what is positive.  

As an example, a black tea recently didn't express complexity across a broad flavor range in the earliest couple of infusions, and then as it evolved later that filled back in (very recently; I just posted that while editing this).  The tea became very balanced and positive.  I'm not sure why it brewed like that, over those rounds.  

Evaluated against expectations of superior quality, specific style, and balance across all dimensions that could seem like a significant flaw.  But then maybe in some cases expectations evolve to make allowance for just this kind of thing, in terms of personal favorites.  Let's go with an example of that.

Dian Hong is my favorite range of black tea, Yunnan styles, which tend to not be all one thing, even though people would use the category bundling in different ways.  Sometimes versions include a lot of pleasant depth, but not as much pronounced forward flavor intensity.  I can still absolutely love versions like this, even though it sort of represents a significant limitation.  

a Moychay Dian Hong (right), recently compared with a Thai black tea

Such a tea might express pleasant cacao, dried fruit, roasted yam, or roasted sweet potato flavor, but in a limited intensity, with a lot of mineral depth (to add some specifics to that).  My take is that the Assamica material used to make such tea is often used to make pu'er in the spring and fall, and a summer harvest, that is weaker in intensity, is often used to make that black tea type.  So a spring harvest version of the exact same tea would be more complex and intense; it would be an example of a limitation.  But in some cases the tea can still work well anyway.  In a strange twist it would still be "type-typical," the theme I've been covering, because this is a normal way for Dian Hong to be.

So maybe I'm more open to that limitation because I expect it, based on having a range of related earlier experiences?  That seems strange.  As I experience it the tea style still just works.  The extra depth adds a different kind of complexity.  

To be clear here I'm using "depth" to mean that I automatically associate parts of the tea flavor experience in a physically represented way, with forward, intense, aromatic flavor aspects (fruit, floral range, whatever it is) as higher, and mineral or earthy "base" flavors as lower, and deeper.  I don't think that imagined spatial analytic form is necessary, or that it adds much to the experience, it's just how I've came to "see" tea experience.

pressed Da Hong Pao oolong (reviewed here); some novel presentation themes really work out

Conclusions

Where am I going with this?  As I try more examples that aren't completely type-typical I feel as if I'm changing how my own expectations relate to my own enjoyment of teas.  Calling that "maturity" imposes a value assessment framework I really don't intend (in a comment earlier here), but there's not another readily available concept to use for this.  I'm associating this with a part of a natural experience curve, and of course others would experience their own understanding and preferences shift in different ways instead over time.

Earlier in my tea exploration and communication I would ask others, through this kind of writing, to add their own perspective in comments.  That essentially never happens.  But I'll stick with these ideas, and see if they keep changing over time, and if my experience of different ranges of tea styles does.

As I try the rest of that oolong version, the later steeps, past a half dozen in count, I'm really enjoying it.  The feel structure is interesting, evolved to be rich and full, and smooth.  The flavor is unique.  A roasted input aspect gives it an almost almond-like character, with other vegetal tone one might interpret in different ways, positively as roasted grain, or barley, and more negatively as cured wood (depending on how they see it).  

It's nice.  But it absolutely doesn't match any typical form of oolong I'm familiar with, and I've drank quite a bit of oolong.  

To put this conclusion another way, I think it's possible to get stuck in the habit of looking for standard tea type experiences, and to experience minor flaws, or even what isn't present, as overly important, which reduces your ability to appreciate what is there, and is positive.

Vietnamese Assamica based oolongs, reviewed here

How Did You Develop Your Sense of Tea Flavors and Aromas?

combined tasting can highlight subtle differences, including flavor aspects

It's not uncommon for Reddit discussions to raise interesting starting points on tea themes, as in this case, considering how you can develop a sense of tea flavors.  That's not the most natural way to frame that set of ideas, related to how I see it, but it works, since it's functionally equivalent.  That post is here.

I guess it's not really a secret how my IRL status links to that Reddit profile, so this is what I commented (left in the original cut and paste formatting, which is extra janky, but that also works):

 

It's an interesting prior question if analytically identifying distinct flavors enhances the tea drinking experience, or if it's irrelevant instead. 

Moving on to the actual question, it just takes practice. Over a long period of time with lots of exposure, and focus on this theme, it will become easier to identify both general ranges of flavors and distinct flavor inputs. One tool that can help with this is a flavor wheel. It won't help initially, because you need the developed skill to go with it, but separating flavors into ranges does work better, and it helps having an idea of what you might be experiencing. It's this kind of thing (from here):

Note that some flavor you pick up with your tongue, often referred to as tastes (although these terms are used loosely in common usage): salt, sweetness, bitterness, sourness, umami (savory range). These others are sensed by your rear nasal passages, so they tend to be referred to as aromas.

This subject just keeps going. Sweetness isn't really identified by the typical sensation of carbohydrate range, of sugars, so you are really sensing other taste range that you associate with that same experience, or that mimic it (two different things). Astringency is a mouthfeel aspect, that is completely separate from this, but that is often confused with the experience of bitterness, or that could be adjacent to it. Sometimes a lack of one aspect range can seem to affect how you experience others, or an excess of one could have a different but comparable effect.

In practice there will always be flavors you just aren't familiar with, like those of a broad range of flowers (for many), or for obscure spices (eg. identifying the different incense spices). Then beyond that there is a broad range of what you've already experience that's going to be hard to associate, even though in a loose sense the flavor is familiar. Malt works as an example. Most of us have tried Ovaltine, or malted milk shakes, but it can be tricky identifying that flavor as what you are experience. Malty flavor in Assam black tea is related but it's something else, so we can use flavor concepts to cover a range of related tastes. Flavors perceived as negative can come across differently, or a base flavor range context including less pleasant flavors can steer you to noticing certain range (eg. even limited sourness might steer you to identifying musty or mineral flavors, while perceived sweetness might cause you to "look for" fruit or other positive range).

In actual practice there are a few things you can do. You can eat before tasting tea, but it should be neutral food, and you should eat it an hour or so before the tea. You can then still eat during tea tasting, but it should be even more neutral food, maybe something like nuts, a cracker, or croissant, to avoid adjusting sense of taste. It would be better to never smoke, and to avoid other harsh food or other flavor experience, all of the time. You can use water to "cleanse" your palate between tasting rounds, or even infusions of the same tea. Some flavor experience can build up in a positive way, or I suppose a negative way, but it can help resetting taste to get a clearer image of it. It's best to give yourself a lot of time and mental space. It takes a lot longer than it seems that it might. Sure, you can gulp a few swallows of a mug of tea and sense some flavors, but it helps to sip and slurp over an extended time, to really pause to consider what the experience is, what the constituent parts are.

Other inputs can matter more than it seems that they would. If there's potpurri in the room that's not going to help at all. Even a very dry environment can throw off the experience. People's sensations vary over time, maybe with different times of the day, or can vary from day to day. One part of the ongoing shift in form of perception is about noticing how all of that works for you.

That's a lot of it.  Ordinarily I'd unpack that first part more, whether or not an analytical approach that isolates and defines flavor aspects seems helpful, but leaving it open doesn't skip much.  People would see that differently, and I have mixed feelings about it myself.  I don't think that much gets lost, not moving on to a more analytical interpretation, and to the extent that kind of review helps it might make more difference beyond flavor range.  

It seems that as you try to do more with comparing teas you end up isolating aspects more and more, but the focus on the flavor list interpretation may not be as helpful or functional as identifying other ranges of strengths and weakness.  Typical positive range includes intensity, complexity, body / feel, aftertaste expression, refinement (an especially vague emergent and higher level range), sweetness level, balance, and so on.  

Negative aspects, flaws, or other limitations can take on lots of forms.  Sourness is a good example of what people typically hope not to experience, although there are exceptions, some fermented teas that are supposed to include a little (like a Japanese fermented goishi cha).  Some mineral flavor range can be especially positive, and other scope quite unpleasant.  A bit of "cement block" taste might be in the middle, but leaning towards less positive.  A tea as tasting like an ash tray would usually be negative, and that can come up.  Some of those positive aspects missing or seeming out of balance can represent flaws (eg. sweetness level seeming off, or feel being thin).

In some online product descriptions--a minor subset of all of them, since it's rare--a lengthy list of flavors can seem improbable.  Complex teas can express a lot, and flavors can evolve across rounds, but when a dozen flavors are described as primary that's likely to be exaggeration.  Don Mei come to mind; he talks like that.  But some people really could free-associate a lot of valid feedback about the experience; maybe he is just doing that, a lot of the time, and isn't even clear himself on when it bridges over to less justified marketing spin.

And this circles back to whether or not it's positive or helpful to describe aspects.  If you are struggling to place 3 or 4 primary flavors then it might be interesting to develop a better aptitude for making such connections.  But once you pick up that ability maybe it would make sense to keep going, to see how far it can go, and that might become a valued part of your normal tea experience.  Or really the "raw experience" shouldn't change, with less labels placed on parts of that experience, so passing on all of it could also make sense.

That writing never unpacked how the tea wheel can help with this.  It may be easier earlier on to get a more vague sense of a general flavor scope range, for example seeing flavors as vegetal or floral, without it being easy to narrow that to specifics.  Using the flavor wheel can help support that kind of a two-stage interpretive approach, and can help with suggestions about the finer distinctions.  

I remember once struggling to place a flavor in winter oolong version, something warm and rich, that was unfamiliar to me, within tea experience.  It turned out to be malt, or more specifically the range of malt found in Ovaltine or malted milk balls (or milkshakes), versus the drier, edgier malt expressed in Assam black tea.  A tea wheel didn't help me then, but it could have.  Instead it just eventually came to mind.

The photo caption at the start mentioned that combined tastings might help.  But it's hard to say how.  That really works better to highlight differences, more than specific aspects.  If one version is much fuller in feel that will be quite clear, for example.  Differences in relative sweetness level stands out.  Something like greater flavor complexity, more going on for diversity of aspects, would also stand out, but it wouldn't necessarily help with identifying one flavor aspect version.  

It's drifting off topic a bit, but something also gets lost in using this approach.  You wouldn't notice the "cha qi" or body feel effect from just one version, which I don't tend to pick up on well anyway.  And a flavor experience can seem to build over time, as you drink round after round, in a form beyond simple transitioning, changes to aspects.  Switching between two versions would offset that.

Practice would make the most difference, trying lots of teas, and paying attention to them.  It's hard to describe what that entails.  It helps to set aside time and attention space, to spend a half an hour or an hour just drinking a tea.  Relatively pleasant but still neutral outdoor exposure can be nice for that; you don't need to be isolated in a low-stimulus empty room. 

he's not in the picture; this is from another day

As I type this, on an apartment balcony in Honolulu, a small bird with a green head stops by on the nearby evergreen tree to chatter on about something.  I suppose he is costing me focus, but in a pleasant sense.  It's nothing like watching a 45 minute Youtube video, where I'm immersed in a screen.  For me I also avoid music in the background; it's just one more layer of stimulus to tune out.

my very patient tea drinking companions back in Bangkok, usually caught up in exploring

that space.  having tea with breakfast doesn't help, but eating somewhat neutral foods first is fine.

Comparing Longjing varietals

 

I'm reviewing an ITea World Longjing sample set this time.  I guess I'll be reviewing different parts of their sets for another month, since I'm far from finishing an aged tea set and Dan Cong set.  Two friends have passed on some other aged teas to try, so that will be a running sub-theme for awhile.

Longjing was one of the first teas I got into when first exploring better tea.  A visit to China was a pivotal step in getting further into tea, and hanging out in a shop in a Shenzhen market was a key step there, as was a Gongfu brewing demonstration at the company we visited, Huawei.

I didn't try Longjing there though.  In talking to a local Huawei sales guy I asked what else to check out in Bangkok, and where, and he said Longjing in Chinatown shops sounded about right.  If he would've mentioned Wuyi Yancha that would have covered a lot of the next two years of exploration.  I went and bought some, and kept buying it, every other spring for awhile, even though I've always liked oolong and black tea more than green.  

There's just something about Longjing.  Of course there's also something about buying it and drinking it in the Spring, which I get around to covering in this.

So here we are, finally learning and exploring Longjing plant types, which is still a brand new subject to me.  ITea World describes it this way:

Longjing Green Tea Varietal Collection 45G ($25 for 45 grams)

This collection offers a unique opportunity to explore the subtle differences in flavor, aroma, and texture created by three distinct tea tree varietals, all using the same harvesting grade: one bud and two leaves. You’ll experience Longjing (Dragon Well) green tea made from three renowned tea tree varietals: Wu Niu Zao, Longjing #43, and the heritage Longjing Qunti. 

Though harvested and processed in the same way, each tea reflects its unique tree’s characteristics. This collection allows tea lovers to discover their preferred varietal of this classic green tea.

Review: 

Wunio Zao Longjing:  it's so nice to be trying good Longjing again.  At first I'll just be caught up in that, but the minor differences will also stand out soon enough.  There's a typical standard flavor range this definitely expresses, often described as nutty, perhaps better captured as tasting like toasted rice.  Then there's a hard to describe vegetal aspect, and some mineral to the experience; it's complex.

Longjing 43:  very similar, but different at the same time.  I'll do a little more tasting back and forth between these is normal for me for these, more direct comparison.  This includes a little more intensity than the first, more of a green edge, with the first softer and a little more towards floral.  That might sound like the first would be more pleasant then, but the opposite kind of works, at this stage.  That typical Longjing flavor set hitting a little harder is what it's all about.  

I don't mind that it's a touch more vegetal; that works with the rest.  It works to say that vegetal range is centered on a sort of fresh green bean flavor.  It also seems nutty, and the flavor isn't so simple that you can say those two descriptions capture it all.  There's a lot to it.

Qunti Tea tree:  much more floral; much richer.  Really the 43 version stands out as most familiar, but both of these others work quite well.  Intensity is really something for this version, equal to the second, but across a perfume-like floral range.  Feel is extra rich as well.  Sweetness might even bump a little in comparison with the 43 version, and aftertaste expression.  

In one sense this is clearly the best of the three.  It includes a touch of vegetal range, again like green bean, maybe a little towards sugar snap pea instead, but the floral range seems to stand out a lot more.  A distinctive nutty or toasted rice note isn't standing out in all of these as much as it sometimes does.

The second, the 43 version, is really catchy to me too though, for being more what I expected.  You get attached to a certain profile and then others could still be more interesting, and better in different senses, but it would be hard for them to match that association input.

The first seems a little diminished in terms of intensity compared to the other two.

To be clear I think these all probably had a little more to offer back closer to production time last spring.  They're quite pleasant, and of good quality, but intensity and freshness would drop off a little over this long.  I won't be mentioning heavy vegetal tones creeping in, I don't think, or anything like that, so they definitely didn't "go off," but that extra bit of bright intensity is a part of it.

Wuniu Zao #2:  I brewed these a little faster, to see how they would work out on the light side, maybe for 30 seconds, but this is using a lower proportion than I ever tend to brewing Gongfu style.

Green bean comes out a lot more in this round; floral range backs off.  It doesn't work as well as all three had last round, since when I was talking about vegetal notes it was within the context of very bright, floral, or along the lines of nutty or toasted rice contexts.  This is still pleasant, but it has shifted back more into the range of a normal green tea experience.

43:  cleaner, brighter, with more sweetness, a bit of integrated floral range, somewhat nutty effect, and more mineral undertone.  Fresh green bean or sugar snap pea stands out more, but it's brighter in this.  

This is more the Longjing experience that I remember.  To be clear I may have typically not been drinking really good Longjing.  Peter of Trident Cafe shared some teas once and I think that was completely centered on ideal range, roughly as good as the type ever gets.  That's kind of their theme, extensively curating and filtering sources and versions, so what you get in the end is kind of ideal.  These also work as a benchmark for a pretty good quality range, but I'm talking about trying a version that's relatively ideal.

Qunti:  this shifted to more vegetal range too.  As with the first version that impacted the experience, more so than the #43 version.  Maybe all three will be better brewed stronger, back to a more typical infusion strength.

Third infusion:  this matches results in the first round better than the second.  The first was quite pleasant, the Wuniu Zao version, just lacking some intensity and positive complexity in relation to the other two.  The #43 version was most familiar from past experience, with much more intensity, and more mineral base, with more of that green bean / snap pea sort of vegetal range.  It included some nuttiness / toasted rice effect, and was clean and pleasant.  The Qunti version was a bit more floral, with good depth, maybe a little sweeter and creamier in feel.

Conclusion:

All of these were nice.  All of them matched well with very positive past Longjing experience, just giving up a bit in terms of a very fresh edge that comes along with drinking Longjing in the Spring.  I think that's a main point related to this experience:  does it even make sense to be trying Longjing versions in January or February?  Not really, according to traditional Chinese tea appreciation perspective.  I think these hold up quite well, and retain most of the same character and aspects, but that one input is very prized, a type of freshness effect that's hard to describe.  It matches closest to intensity, related to the concept bundles I typically describe teas in relation to, but it's not really just that.

I know a way to explain it, or at least try to in a different way.  When Peter of Trident Cafe sent a Longjing version to try, some years ago, prior to Covid, opening the bag was enough to assure that the flavor profile exactly matched my expectations for an optimal experience, or even exceeded them.  You could tell exactly what you were going to taste, from the intense aroma of the dried leaf.  These had a pleasant dry tea aroma, but it wasn't anything like that.  It covered some similar range, for all three, but it was much more subdued, and in a warmer and different form.  It wasn't incredibly bright and fresh.

These teas would be great for someone to get a feel for Longjing range, but they'd need to have that exact experience to really capture the essence of it.  Most vendors wouldn't sell anything like that tea, to be clear, although most would claim to.  A few random trials of sourcing might miss the mark by a lot.  But you would need to be doing this kind of search in the Spring, per traditional understanding, and my own take.  

Then in a sense this leads me back to a consideration of value.  If these are moderately priced, relatively speaking, this would be a great way to do an intro prior to taking up that quest.  If they cost anywhere near $1 a gram--kind of a higher quality, higher demand norm--it would be giving up too much to have such well-rested versions provide the experience.  If someone wasn't emphasizing value in relation to their tea experience, if an extra $50 here or there made no difference, then it wouldn't matter again.  There would still be another step to be taken, but these make for a positive and informative tea experience, for a moderate expense range.  

If I really am brewing 3 grams each, per their recommended range--and maybe it's 4; it's hard to say--then these would brew 15 infusion sequences in total, or maybe only a dozen.  Even at a considerable $1 a gram pricing that's $3 per individual tea based session, or put another way I would be trying $9 worth of tea just now.  To me that's a lot, but it's not for everyone.

In looking at the pricing when doing the editing these cost $25, just over half that hypothetical consideration rate.  Around 50 cents a gram is pretty good for teas this good.  It's customary for Chinese people, and Chinese tea enthusiasts in Bangkok, to drink green tea in the Spring, so there's also that.  I think these are fine for exploring this type range now, but if someone loved them it would be essential to get back to another trial in the Spring, tracking when versions come out, and trying one very fresh.  

It's not just about the positive freshness aspect; that experience matches with the feel of Spring.  It's like waiting for the fall or winter to get back into masala chai, if that makes sense, or drinking spiced wine or hot buttered rum on a cold winter day.  

Comparing Son La (Vietnamese), Naka, and Bangwai sheng

 

Son La left, Naka middle, Bangwai right, in all photos

In reviewing two Tea Mania gushu sheng pu'er versions recently I felt as if I didn't really place quality levels and style as much as I'd hoped to.  In comparison reviewing a vendor's teas along with each other the main current benchmark, the other version, tends to be something similar in style and quality level.  This adjusts for that.

Of course there are flaws and limitations to the approach.  Style of tea varies a lot, and you need to take that into account in description.  Personal preference can favor a style most others would see as inferior to experience, related to their preference.  I try to make all that explicit in these notes, but I can't drill down too far across all the scope.  When reviewing a number of teas together it's natural to focus on flavor aspects more than mouthfeel or aftertaste range; that narrowing of scope of consideration happens automatically.

I want to keep descriptions short here because comparison reviews run long.  Let's let the vendor's descriptions introduce what these are.

Viet Sun Son La cake (the 2023 version, the one I tried, seems to be sold out; I can cover 2024 instead related to product description, and mention what I knew of the other).

2024, 200 gram cake, selling for $48

A very special tea from Sơn La province in northwest Vietnam.

This is a tea from arguably the best ancient tree gardens in Bắc Yên district of Sơn La province growing at 1400m. The people living and making tea here are of the H'Mông ethnicity.

This tea was made in an area called Tà Xùa, one of the more well known areas for old tree Assamica tea in Vietnam and is located just south of where the 2023 Sơn La tea was made. Tà Xùa mainly produces wok made green tea but we were lucky enough to have the chance to get some of the raw puerh version.

This tea has some aggressiveness and kiss of smoke from the wok which is typical of this area although subdued compared to the 2023 tea. This tea brews up into a rich gold green soup. Heavily floral, fruity and sweet with some citrus notes, medium bitterness/ astringency. This tea has a pleasant minerality with a rich lasting Huigan and strong qi.

Apparently the 2023 version listed for $77 for 370 grams, so 21 cents a gram instead of 24.  What is that, a 15% increase in a year?  Viet Sun teas always were going to increase in price once awareness and demand ramped up, and this is probably how this will go.  They'll outpace inflation for a half dozen years and level off as costing what main source Yunnan teas do now, $100-120 per cake.

Cheng Sheng Hao Naka sample, part of a sample set, selling for $79 per 195 grams.

That's not double the Viet Sun pricing but getting on towards that.  Some of their teas included were really exceptional, and some more ordinary, making it hard to assess value.

2022 Na Ka (那卡)

“Na Ka” is the sweetness representative of Pu-Erh tea. The soup has an attractive pale-gold color in the cup. The aroma and taste are alluring, exhibiting a noticeable peach-like flavor and strong sweetness in the later infusions. There is also a strong cup scent left behind in the early brews. 

Tea Mania 2022 Bangwai sheng, 200 grams for $111

Harvest: Spring 2022

Pressed: 2022

Typ: Sheng

Aroma: Spicy, much Cha Qi and sweet finish

Terroir: Bangwai, Lancang prefecture, Yunnan province, China

The rest of the description pretty much just says that it's gushu, from old plant material.  It includes description like this:

The Bangwai Gushu is celebrated for its meticulous, traditional handmade processing and the selective use of the finest tea leaves. This dedication to quality is evident in every sip, making it a treasured choice among collectors. Due to the limited availability, Pu-erh teas from the Bangwai region are released in small quantities each year, adding to their exclusivity and allure.

So these sell for 24 cents a gram (the 2024 Son La version, the only one available now), just under 40, and 55 cents a gram; quite a range.  

It's not a fair comparison with the Naka version because 3 of the 7 in that set were presented as more exceptional, higher demand, award winning versions, and the other 4 at representative of a local origin type.  There's no way to estimate how some better versions represent higher value for the average, without looking up other things that they sell, which I'm not going to do here.

These teas are from 2023 (the Son La version), 2021 (Naka), and 2022 (Bangwai); that will throw off comparison a little too.  I won't emphasize likely changes from aging input and storage conditions here, going more by experienced character, because again a three-way comparison tasting is a lot to cover, and to read.  

I really wanted to try a sample of a 2024 Son La tea with these, to get to tasting a little sent along with the last re-order of a 2023 cake, but to keep the aging input more consistent I didn't.

Review:

Son La #1:  this won't be a fair comparison at this stage because this version is loose, ready to start brewing right away, so I infused it for less time, 15 seconds or so, versus over 30 for the others.  It still won't balance; it will start faster.

This is ready to review for flavor profile description, even if a little light.  Floral range is pronounced and complex, sweetness is good, bitterness not really started yet, and feel is starting in.  There might be a faint hint of smoke but I think that drops out.  It's good, a personal favorite.

Naka and Bangwai:  I'll skip saying anything; even next round these might not be started yet.  Compressed forms are like that, and separating apart these forms is not easy.  

I'll use 10 seconds for the Son La version and a minute or so for both others again to get these to balance being wetted better, but that will probably even up more in a third round.

Son La #2:  intensity picks way up.  Bitterness does really enter in, and sweetness elevates to match.  Flavors range is mostly floral, although I'd interpret some of it as fruit as well.  Feel is nice, a bit full, not overly structured, and not challenging.  Intensity draws out aftertaste experience already, even though this has only been brewing for about 20 seconds so far.

Naka:  there's an odd woody flavor component to this.  I've always wondered if using cardboard as storage container wouldn't impart some flavor, if that's not what I pick up when some teas taste a little like cardboard or wood.  It will probably fade fast as the main tea flavors pick up.  I had an interesting experience with the earlier two Tea Mania teas I tried barely getting started in the first two rounds, as the tea opened up and wetted; that may be going on with this.  It's not soaked through yet.

Bangwai:  a really catchy fruit tone shows through.  It seems like it's probably coupled with a spice input, which makes it seem all the more complex and interesting.  It's still too light for clear evaluation though.  I'll again brew the Son La version for about 10 seconds and the other two for over 30, backing off the full minute I gave them last round.  Of course I'm breaking normal form and discarding most of these first two rounds, since tasting three teas will add up fast for volume.

Son La #3:  a bit strong; I've probably botched proportion for using an amount too close to my normal range, maybe backing off to 8 grams instead of 10, but it's still too much.  [later edit:  wetted leaf volume, a better indicator of amount, if you don't weigh the material, indicates there isn't as much difference as it seems through most of this tasting].  Warm tones pick up in this round, and intensity is high.  Bitterness is pronounced, and sweetness; they balance.  

It's clear from the leaf color alone that oxidation level varies in this tea, which some people would see as a flaw.  For me the final experience is the thing, and this works, so it's not really that, just unique in style.  That warmth and richer flavors in the profile must relate to that, at least in part.

Naka:  this tea is quite decent, but it's probably going to suffer in comparison with these other two.  Sweetness level isn't pronounced, but it includes some sweetness.  Floral range is there but it's also a bit muted.  Feel is decent, with moderate fullness, but it all seems a bit muted in comparison with the Son La version.  That tea is much further along for brewing, so it's not a fair comparison.

Bangwai:  flavor range is quite novel for this.  I'd place that mainly as root spice, at least at this round.  Floral range fills that in, but it's less distinct.  Bitterness and feel aren't so pronounced or challenging, but it works for balance.  It comes across as refined; there are no negative inputs or rough edges, and there's an experience of depth.  

A friend recently asked what I mean by root spice.  Does this taste like sassafras, ginseng, ginger, turmeric, or horseradish?  It's the first, a lot like sassafras, maybe leaning a little towards ginseng.  There are other roots that can be brewed as tisanes, just as there are plenty of other bark spices beyond cinnamon.  They can tend to group up across a common character range, even though many are very spicy, while others are mild.  I went through a decade long tisane drinking phase, during which I could've placed all that better.  As a placeholder, if someone is thrown off by this description, they can just swap in sassafras root, and if that's not familiar think of it as tasting like ginseng, or ignore the description.

The Son La version is dialed way up across most aspect range in comparison, with more intensity, flavor complexity, bitterness, sweetness, and feel structure, but there's something pleasant about a more limited flavor range, good balance, refinement, and depth.  It's a different kind of pleasantness.  Again this tea isn't fully wetted yet, so it might change a good bit over the next two rounds.  Some leaves will have been brewing for 5 rounds by then, so it will gain complexity by mixing inputs across an infusion cycle.  

Son La #4:  bitterness seems to stand out all the more.  How much I notice that might vary over time, depending on expectations, or just paying attention.  In comparison with less bitter teas it's hard to miss.  I'm still brewing this pretty fast but at a high proportion it's going to be intense; I would imagine most people might like it lighter, using less leaf and still a short infusion time.  Probably how I drink teas varies day to day, with mood, especially infusion strength.

Some of the plant-stem sort of flavor that relates to a connection with bitterness might divide people on preference for this.  I'm fine with it; it works for me.  Five years ago I probably wouldn't have liked it as much, but I've drank a lot of relatively bitter tea in that time.

Naka:  again this tastes like pretty decent sheng, and it balances ok, and has a decent profile, but it comes across as muted after trying the Son La.  It being two years older probably isn't helping with that.

It's probably better that high bitterness and edgier feel are not present, that it balances more at fullness.  It just doesn't have pronounced sweetness or strong floral range to fill in complexity.  I think tasted alone it would seem better.  No part of this seems like a flaw, beyond flavors being limited.  Feel is fine.  Given it was described as being unusually sweet I guess that's a let-down, but still it's ok.

Bangwai:  this stands out for being the opposite, in a sense, unusually distinctive.  It ties mostly to a limited range of flavor input, that's not all one thing, but is complex across a limited range.  It seems like mainly root spice, to me, with some floral input supporting that, and range that might seem more vegetal across a more medicinal range, like herbs.  Feel is smooth, full, and "round," not challenging at all, bringing across an impression of depth.  

For someone looking for the blast of bitterness, sweetness, feel intensity, and strong flavor in the Son La this could also seem muted, but to me there is a good bit going on.  It's just a very different kind of experience.

I've not been mentioning aging input differences, and that could be a factor.  The Son La is from 2023, the Naka from 2021, and Bangwai from 2022.  The Vietnamese version would pick up depth and lose sharper range and some intensity over two more years.  I see that as good and bad; to me those are positive, they work.  Maybe since intensity and complexity is so significant it will improve from that trade-off.  I've drank about two thirds of this cake, so it won't be around for me to know in two more years, but I bought a replacement of it to fill that role.

The Naka is most muted from aging longer, 3 years instead of 1 or 2.  That can bring across a positive experience of warmer tones and depth, and to some extent that occurs in this version.  It's just hard to appreciate when it's giving up intensity, complexity, and distinctiveness in relation to the other two versions, as described in detail in these notes.  If someone really loves a softer, richer, less challenging tea version it could be better, but the Bangwai also lacks rough edges.

I haven't finished all of these rounds, discarding some, but part of 12 cups was already a lot, right when the second two are finally fully wetted.  I'll need to take a break and eat something to offset the stomach impact.

Son La, #5:  again quite pleasant.  Strong intensity, even brewed quite fast, stands out, along with sweetness, bitterness, and a plant-stem sort of flavor input.  Floral range that I interpret as including some lighter, hard to pin down fruit component makes it complex and balanced.  I think match to what I like is more of the appeal than some abstract and objective quality level, but not much of this would be regarded as a flaw, as I see it.

Naka:  again I think this would come across better without the direct comparison, because it seems a bit muted and lacking in flavor complexity.  It has good depth though, and is clean in flavor range, with balancing bitterness and full feel.  Flavor range is fine, but it's just indistinct floral range.

Bangwai:  that distinctive flavor range, a set, really, is evolving.  It's still in root spice / Chinese herb medicinal range, but different now.  I suppose preference for this tea would depend on if someone loves that kind of novel flavor experience or not, that particular version of it.  I could imagine a lot of people loving this as a novel experience but not preferring to experience it over and over, as a 357 gram cake.  These are selling as smaller cakes; 200 grams isn't the same thing, since this would still be novel for the first half dozen sessions. 

I think it partly relates to having basic tastes, preference, but for drinking a tea version over and over I'd go with the Son La.  This Naka version isn't offensive in any way, maybe the most neutral of the three, with pretty decent overall balance and depth, so it could work well as a sort of plain tea to have with breakfasts.  Why not have that be lots more intense though?  Maybe that's what sheng pu'er is supplying that I end up craving.

Son La, #6:  it's interesting brewing this faster across the whole tasting, but part of that is getting the proportion wrong, using too much of this.  It's more intense than the others but not that much more intense.  

later edit:  there is a slightly higher proportion, as shown by wet leaf volume, but not that much.  It's a more intense tea than the other two.  That's normal for it being younger / less transitioned.  Astringency is higher too; I don't mention much of that as a trade-off, because to me it's not so negative, but it could be to others.

This is better than ever; the initial rough edges are smoothing out, and it picks up warmth and depth.  Richness of feel picks up, evolving from a slightly rougher structure earlier.  The rest is as described earlier.

Naka:  not evolving, as described before, pretty good and decently balanced, just not as intense and distinctive as the others.

Bangwai:  not really evolved in relation to the last round.  This is the most unique and distinctive as flavors go, and has the most refinement and depth.  

As objective quality level assessment goes this is probably the best, but match to personal preference is something else again.  That flavor set someone might love or else not like.  I have no idea about match to a conventional local origin type or standard character.  

It would seem odd to me that this could be typical, given how distinctive it is, but I really don't know.  Maybe versions from there tend to be distinctive in different ways, so it is a common generality, just not in terms of this exact aspect set.

Conclusions:

Going in this wasn't a fair test for the Naka version, from the Cheng Sheng Hao vendor.  The Son La tea is a personal favorite, and Tea Mania is sourcing some pretty good tea versions, and selling those at medium-high pricing rates because of that quality level and distinctiveness.  

This Naka tea wasn't presented as one of the best versions from that vendor, more as representative of a local origin type.  I'm not sure that it lived up to that.  I'm particularly bad at memorizing a matrix of typical local origin sheng pu'er aspect sets, but per description sweetness was the thing to look out for, and it was no sweeter than the others, and less so than the Son La version, which included other range some might find off-putting.

The story of the Bangwai version was novel flavor profile, along with depth and refinement.  It's a pretty good theme.  The last post comparing Tea Mania teas mentions a tasting set that they sell; that's probably a good way to assess some different versions to help place them in relation to preference, and to judge quality for yourself.

The one limitation I want to address here relates to people not being able to experience a volume of different teas, to costs really adding up.  Of course someone could spend over $100 on sets from each of these vendors (often free shipping starts in at around that price level), and they'd have their own impressions, but $400 might be most of a conventional annual tea budget for a lot of people.  Drinking tea every day for not much over $1 a day is pushing it, but it is practical to only drink 5 to 8 grams of a 20-some cents per gram tea per day.  

It can get a little annoying seeing people present photos of $500+ orders in tea groups, as if this isn't even a factor for them.  It seems to be about them promoting being ahead in some sort of exposure game.  It would be nice to be able to spend thousands of dollars a year on tea, but I'm not trying to set up a high level of spending as some sort of assumed norm here.  

No one is missing that much for not ever trying these three teas, or anything like them.  It's just tea.  If you acclimate to prefer what others regard as quality markers, and seek out rarer in-demand tea types, your required expense will escalate, but it's not necessary to spend $100 on a cake, or 30-some cents per gram, to get decent tea now.  But to buy tea that's in the highest demand that's probably not even close to enough.

On the other side of that if someone spends $8 a day on a coffee drink they have the same beverage experience, over and over.  To me that's $240 a month essentially wasted.  It's better to spend $70 to 100 on a 357 gram cake, drink 8-10 grams of tea a day worth, and have that cover more than a month of experience.  Sampling different sheng helps with placing where to go with that exploration.  

Spending $100 on a month and a half worth of tea still works out to an $800 per year expense; it's still too much for everyone at or under the average in income, both in the US and in Thailand, the two places that I tend to live.  I suppose that's just how it has to go, that people experiencing above average quality tea on a regular basis would face an above average level of expense.  That doesn't mean that good tea is only for the wealthy, but there is significant buy-in, when it comes to above average quality sheng pu'er range.

Trying wild origin tea versions, white and oolong (Wuyi Yancha style)

I'm trying two more wild origin teas from ITea World, probably the last of that set I'll get to.  There is a green version but that's my least favorite kind, and reviewing it tends to boiling down to mentioning a few aspects, beyond some vague talking around quality level.

That tea was from this set:

Chinese Wild Tea Sampler: 5 Flavors for $5 with Free Shipping

That's it, not much at all for 25 grams of interesting tea.  Their marketing oriented descriptions:

Wild White Tea:  Plucked wild in Fuding, our Bai Mu Dan white tea features downy silver needles releasing a dewy floral bouquet mingled with sun-ripened fruits and meadow sweetness. Each sip delivers a mellow, soothing creaminess.

Wild Oolong Tea:  Hailing from a Wuyi Mountain tea family, our artisan has over 15 years of expertise in handcrafting traditional-style Wuyi Rock Tea and black tea, having learned the art from a young age by apprenticing with family members.

They seem a bit like that, with less to go on there about what the oolong is like.

Looking around that site the white tea lists for $20-some for 40 grams, and the oolong is around $30 for 40 grams (I'm seeing pricing in Thai baht, initially, so the pricing listing isn't exact).  $25 and 30 it is, switching that over.  I never do really evaluate value later in this post, since that gets speculative anyway, trying to fold together issues related to demand per type, quality level, novelty, and then likely final preference.  

Pricing over 50 cents a gram is getting up there, but for some specialty tea range that's still normal.  I tend to try to buy teas that are more like 20 to 30 cents a gram, or less, but then I also buy relatively directly from producers.  I usually drink sheng pu'er or black tea, with some better oolong and rarer white tea range running a little higher in cost.  

I guess the pricing is probably ok, but more direct comparison with similar versions would tell more of that story.  Then when you are considering novel wild-origin teas it can be harder to find similar products, of any kind or at any price level.

Review:

white, #1:  that's nice.  It's smooth, sweet, rich, and distinctive.  An unusual and pleasant flavor profile may be the story of this tea.  It seems to include a bit of mint, and then warmer depth offsets that, giving it complexity.  The mint is like wintergreen mint, or at least the artificial flavor represented as that, very mild in comparison with something like peppermint.  One part is vegetal, a little like fennel.  It might be easier to break down the rest next round.

oolong:  that's catchy too.  I'm not noticing a distinct familiar Wuyi Yancha style this fits into, which is probably just as well.  The warm tones and good balance seems to relate to this being a bit more oxidized and roasted than a modern lighter style that I'm more familiar with.  When it all works this other range can be even nicer.  Of course mineral tones are part of it, as a base for the rest.  From there it's complex, but hard to really break down.  One part may be closest to warm spice, and another range like dark wood.  Sweetness might tie to something like toffee.

white, #2:  the fennel part picked up most, which works.  It shifts to warmer tones, off fresh fennel into fennel seed range a bit.  It's harder to notice a mint background note but it still seems to be there.  Complexity seems pretty good; it's hard to communicate how that works based only on a couple of flavor descriptions.  Part of a warmer base also seems to relate to autumn leaf range.  To me that can be expressed differently, as dry, light, sweet tones or instead as wetter, heavier range, relating to fresh dry leaves or wet versions.  This is the first case, dry, light, and sweet, and also complex.

oolong #2:  this warms and deepens.  It includes that one peach-like note that can be distinctive in Dan Cong; interesting seeing that stand out this much in a Wuyi Yancha version.  I suppose interpreted differently it's just floral, but to me clearly peach.  It's so pronounced that at this round it seems like a pretty good Dan Cong version, which is not a bad range to fall into.  

It lacks the rough edge that often adjoins those, the harsh astringency, but in my experience that seems to tie to quality level in Dan Cong, and to some extent probably also to growing elevation.  Most likely the connection is a bit incidental, and cheaper higher volume production, low elevation farmed Dan Cong is not processed quite as well, with plants stressed with fertilizer input to get the most out of them, and higher elevation sources are harvest less, and allowed to grow more naturally.  All just guesses, of course.

The sweetness carries over as a pleasant aftertaste.  It could extend a little longer; as a quality level marker--if taken that way--this suggests that this is upper medium quality range, with room for improvement.

white, #3:  creaminess picks up; that's an interesting shift.  I hadn't even mentioned it before; I suppose that it had factored in.  Trying this a little lighter probably shifts what comes across.  I suppose it's worth noting again that I write all this before I see any vendor description; it's interesting that creaminess is mentioned by them and also stands out.

It still works to describe this as like fennel with a hint of mint, with warmer but sweet complexity along the line of autumn leaf.  It's transitioning though; within a round or two a different description will probably work better.

oolong:  still pretty close to a Mi Lan Xiang Dan Cong that happens to taste a lot like peach, with some supporting floral range and warm tones.  It's fairly clean too, with good sweetness; all the other aspects indicate this is a little better than just "upper medium quality level."  Maybe not some elevated "best of the best range," but then it's not even matching a standard type that its origin relates to anyway.

This reminds me of one of Cindy's Wuyishan origin teas, from Wuyi Origin, tasting a lot like peach one year, when it normally might've included that but certainly didn't typically include such a pronounced aspect.  Terroir inputs can vary some year to year, and of course by narrow location.  

I looked at the vendor page for more description, since there wasn't much flavor breakdown in that initial sampler-summary version:

...tea exhibits a rich floral and fruity aroma that infuses the water. Upon sipping, the floral and fruity notes rise, filling the nose with their fragrance.The flavor is robust and refreshing, with a pronounced sweetness that stimulates the salivary glands and leaves a clear, crisp aftertaste. The enduring sweetness provides a lingering, delightful aftertaste that is truly memorable.

Heavy on marketing spin but that actually kind of works.  They might've mentioned peach.

white, #4:  there is another shift; that creaminess has edged towards creamsicle, which I guess relates to citrus picking up a little.  This will probably eventually transition to warmer tones, or at least heavier vegetal range, but I'll probably leave off taking notes here.  8 infusions is a lot for my patience, and the short quiet window on a Saturday morning for tasting will end before too long.  

This tea exceeded my expectations; I expected some positive character from it, but it's normal for a lot of white tea range to come across as much thinner, and more limited, not as complex or intense.  Beyond including that the flavor set is interesting, integrated, and positive.  I've not mentioned much for feel structure but it's not thin either.  Aftertaste expression is there but limited, which I don't see as that much of a limitation; it can vary in different tea versions.

oolong:  not that much transition, maybe just a slight shift in earlier aspects balance.  Dominant warm peach flavor works especially well for me, so that's fine.  

This is definitely a tea that a Dan Cong lover could appreciate, even they had adjusted to expect higher quality range.  Feel range is pretty good; it could be a little thicker, but it's fine.  Aftertaste is positive; it trails on afterwards nicely.  Complexity is good; warm toffee range fills in depth beyond the peach and supporting floral range.  

There's not that much mineral base, as lots of Wuyi Yancha oolongs go; I suppose that could be interpreted as a limitation.  Really it not being fully type-typical is either a main weakness or else a good thing, since the range expressed is so nice.  Someone splitting hairs could say that the feel structure not being full enough is a limitation, since it's not well-balanced by that input, but to me that's not really even a flaw in this, never mind a significant one.  It's quite good, and the "wild origin" description leads me to expect something a little off the standard range.  More natural growing conditions can often lend to novel flavor inputs entering in, as has occurred with both these teas.

These seem particularly well made.  Starting with good material is one thing, but teas need to be processed skillfully to bring out a well-balanced character.  There's a synchronicity that comes with all of it coming together in an amazing way, how the best of the best standard versions come across, and I'm not saying that these are there, because they're quite good but not that fantastic.  There are essentially no flaws to point out in either though, just a limitation here or there, an aspect range that could be dialed up a little.

For the white tea that comes with the general style; it usually doesn't match the complexity, intensity, and full feel and aftertaste expression of many other tea types.  For that tea it being so positive, complex, novel, and pleasant to experience is enough.  

The Wuyi Yancha could pass for pretty good Mi Lan Xiang Dan Cong, even with oxidation and roast level appropriate for that, better than most tend to be, which to me is generally a good thing, just maybe a little unusual related to the trueness to type theme.

Not from this tasting, instead from drinking some random sheng pu'er yesterday, I wanted to mention something relating to this teaware.  You don't need to spend much to use functional, pleasant teaware.  I buy these 100 ml, plain, white gaiwans in a Chinatown shop, selling there for around $3, but $10 might be more typical from other sources.  These cups I buy at a Japanese ceramics outlet shop, for around $1 each.  It's like the Ross Dress for Less theme, I think; they sell extra versions from large batch local production.

Then I use two so that I can pour the tea from one to the other to cool it.  I tend to use an extra to re-hydrate some goji berries every morning, eating those as a supplement.  I think it's a good source of beta carotene, what vitamin A is derived from, and supposedly it contains anti-aging related compounds.  I'm not really endorsing that, just explaining why my daily tea setup uses three cups.