Aged Lapsang Souchong (2014) and Dan Cong (1995)

 

Lapsang Souchong left, in all photos

I'm reviewing two more aged teas from an ITea World aged tea set.  Most have been pretty good so far, and a 1995 Shui Xian oolong was really interesting.  I've tried different aged teas in the past but covering different types at those sorts of early ages is still new ground, at least those particular iterations.  This will be something different too, a 1995 Dan Cong.  

The rest of this set is this:

That's definitely novel; it's hard to judge if a $75.90 pricing (for 100 grams) is about right or a really good value.  It depends on the teas, and some have been exceptional, others just interesting and characteristic for the types.  They seem to offer different discounts at different times, and I think for a reduced rate below that value is pretty favorable.  

As I keep mentioning related to lots of teas I don't buy tea at 70 cents a gram or so (they passed this on for review; many thanks to them!), so value really depends on what you like, and what budget you are working with.  It would cost a good bit to buy these from any market outlet sort of vendor, if they were even available.

To me aged teas can be hard to place, because experiencing them is definitely novel, maybe more so than for any other type range.  But then in terms of pleasantness, refinement (one level quality relates to), or intensity of the experience they're often not as positive.  For buying random versions of them online storage issues often all but ruin them; mustiness can be a main aspect.  

In the last week or two I've written about a 2010's version that had probably been stored near incense, picking up a flavor input that seemed foreign.  So far none of that has impacted these tea samples, and it has only been that quality was exceptional for some and more medium range for others, or so it seemed to me.  We'll see how these go, or rather I already have, since I often write intros and conclusions during editing.  One is really good, very novel and pleasant, and the other just good.

Review:

2014 Lapsang Souchong:  interesting!  That picked up a lot of spice tones with the aging, it seemed.  It almost tastes like a spiced tea version.  I was expecting this to not be a smoked version initially, and there is no smoke, but it's hard to say how that flavor input would've held up over 11 years.  

It balances pretty well.  There is mixed spice input, which I'll try to break down more next round, then a warm toffee sweetness beyond that, and some neutral warm-toned base mineral.  There is no sharp black tea edge, but even in newer, higher quality Lapsang Souchong versions there might not be much of that.  Feel is interesting, especially for it being the first light round, a bit rich.  It seems clean and refined.  All in all it's pleasant to experience.  

Going back and comparing it to the other version a touch of sourness stands out, which is more evident in comparison.  First impressions can miss things like that.

1995 Dan Cong:  there's quite different spice standing out in this.  I don't remember spice tones picking up that much in aged tea versions before, but then I've probably never tried an 11 year old Lapsang Souchong or 30 year old Dan Cong.  This is a little sharper and more pronounced, like clove.  

The other came across as a mix of different flavors, that were hard to separate.   There is some fruit or floral base beyond that spice in this, and warm mineral again, but the sharper and more pronounced spice range really stands out most, and kind of blocks experience of the rest.   It will be interesting to see how these evolve, how the flavors transition in relation to each other.

Lapsang Souchong #2:  I brewed that first round about 20 seconds, and I'm going to stay with using decently long infusion times, maybe 20-some this time instead.  Drinking these brewed light would also work, using faster infusions, and they would produce more rounds, but I expect the effect will be most positive with intensity bumped to a medium-high level.  Or at least infusion strength; we will see what extracts.

More spice, no surprise.  It's mostly in a cinnamon related range.  There is a little sourness to this.  From being stored a bit damp?  Maybe.  It's far from ruined; that kind of works with the sweetness, otherwise clean flavored nature, spice tone, and underlying warmth.  But I suspect that people would have different natural tolerances or preferences for or against that inclusion, the sourness.  It was off-putting in a Thai shai hong style black tea I tried with Huyen and Seth, for her, and I still love that tea.  It might be more common in Dian Hong range than for other black teas, related to some processing form input.  I don't remember ever trying Lapsang Souchong that seemed sour to me, but earlier on I probably wouldn't have noticed it.  

To me this tea is good.  For others reaction to that one flavor input might decide it.

Dan Cong:  an interesting spice and aged wood tone has picked up.  This is really interesting.  It tastes like really aged furniture, a bit towards Chinese medicinal spices, what those Chinatown shops tend to smell like.  One note is still related to clove, but there's a lot more going on, all across spice and wood-tone range.  

Some lower quality aged sheng pu'er tends to taste woody, in a completely different sense.  That tends to taste like well-cured lumber, while this is a hint of cedar, or towards incense spice range, just not exactly that either.  It tastes like what I'd imagine exotic Chinese medicinal root spices might taste like.

Would this naturally be appealing or off-putting for many people, the same question I just asked of the other tea version?  I would think the novelty would generally be positive.  The overall balance is nice too; it's not musty, or heavy across an odd flavor range, lacking body / feel, or too dry in some odd way.  A bit of toffee sweetness helps the rest tie together well.  For well-aged sheng two different problems can enter in, that haven't here.  Those can be musty and earthy so that they require a few infusions to clean up, or some versions just tend to fade.  This definitely changed due to aging input, but not in those ways.

Lapsang Souchong #3:  I brewed these a little longer, to see what happens when they are pushed a bit, on towards a minute.

Spice is still pleasant in this, still mostly centered around cinnamon range, but more complex than just that.  Sourness is reducing, even brewed strong.  It's not unusual for some aspects to "burn off" over a few initial rounds, and that seems to have happened.  It comes across as a little sweeter, cleaner, and more balanced, with warm tones playing a larger role.  A toffee sweetness stands out.  Other warm tones seem to include just a touch of leather, not the musty horse saddle range that can turn up in hei cha or some pu'er, but a lighter, sweeter note.  It's tempting to go on and on about types of leather, but ultimately not informative, so I won't.

Dan Cong:  this changes every round, which is an interesting effect.  A lot of the description I already covered still applies, but the overall balance is quite different, and I had been listing out a lot of range before.  Wood still stands out, but a very novel form of it, a touch of cedar, well-aged furniture, and then the overlap with Chinese medicinal herbs.  A sappy feel enters in, connecting with one part of that, the unusual herb or spice range.  There are bark spice tisanes one can seek out, not cinnamon, and not like cinnamon, that this might resemble.  There is a lot going on.

It's not so unusual for some aged teas to fade, but this absolutely did not do that.  It's unique, clean, complex, and balanced, expressing flavor range that isn't familiar at all.  I suppose this is what one might hope aged tea would be like, it just usually isn't.  I'm guessing that the sheng and shou versions in this set might seem kind of ordinary to me, which I'll get around to checking on, but this doesn't.  One more round will tell enough of this story.

Lapsang Souchong #4:  kind of the same.  This may be fading a little already; an input like aging might transition the material to include novel range but could also cost it intensity and the ability to brew a lot of rounds.  The same can come up with oxidation and roasting steps.  

This tea isn't done, but it might've passed the most interesting part of the infusion cycle already.  Or the next couple of steeps could still be regarded as more positive than the first 3, since the sourness transitioned out.  This one I brewed a little faster so the intensity dropped some, but it's still fine.

Dan Cong:  it's interesting brewed lighter; different flavor range comes out.  A lighter spice range emerges, almost including a citrus note.  Aromatic range is interesting.  It tastes like aged furniture, but not in the musty sense, instead related to those fragrant preservative oils that are used in some places (like here in Bangkok, where old traditions and practices sometimes stick around).  This also isn't better brewed so light, but it is interesting trying it in different ways.  It still works.

Conclusions:

Those teas really were on the way out; they kept brewing, but they were already declining by then.  The 10+ infusions theme relates more to younger, powerful teas, not those so transitioned by aging input.

The Dan Cong was a really unique experience.  I've been a little skeptical that it really improves teas much to age most for 10+ years, but it held up, and changed into something very novel.

The storage input to the Lapsang Souchong wasn't quite as positive; a light early sour note threw off results a little.  I'd expect that being stored with more humidity in the tea made that difference.  In the past people often talked about re-roasting teas, to keep them dry and positive in character, but it later seemed like storing them well-sealed at an appropriate humidity level works out much better.  They're not changing related to fungus and bacteria inputs, fermenting, as sheng pu'er and other hei cha are, so they don't need limited air input and a higher degree of humidity to support that microbiome.

I'm not sure that everyone can appreciate what a market value for a well-stored, high quality, novel 30 year old oolong might be.  There isn't much of that around; it could be hard to identify that.  I wrote about types and transition patterns in aging oolongs before, back in 2020, and mentioned reviews of a half dozen versions of different ages.  It had seemed a lot of what had been around was already sold by then, with some pricing getting a bit crazy.  The TeaDB blog wrote about that awhile back (this time in 2016, but I was looking for something else).  Pricing for everything mentioned was all over the map, in both posts, often way over $1 a gram, but one thing would be the same from both:  those aged teas selling in 2016 to 2020 are probably all gone now.

Or are they?  I looked up one I tried earlier on, well before 2020, a 1995 Thai Qing Xin oolong from Tea Side (a Thai vendor), and it's still available.  It sells for $40 for 50 grams, exactly the same rate as this sample set.  I thought it would be sold out, or would sell for more if available.  Two Moychay aged oolongs (one Qilan listed here, and another) from 2004 and 2006 sell for 24 and 30 Euro for 50 grams; a little less, but those are a decade younger.  I guess that it's still out there.  This vendor sells 70s Dan Cong, for around $300 for 50 grams.  If you have an open enough budget this 95 version isn't the far extreme.

For people seeking out this kind of experience this set has been reasonable, a mix of really exceptional and unique versions and others that at least represent the range fairly, and the value seems fine.

2004 Thai Hong Tai Chang shou, 1991 Liu Bao, 2010's Vietnamese shou

HTC left, Vietnamese version right, in all photos

I'm reviewing three teas passed on by friends in this, two shou and one Liu Bao.  It's not technically shou pu'er, since one is from Vietnam and the other Thailand, but to me it's identical to what is produced in Yunnan, related to that regionally-limited designation.  Others could see that differently.

In part this relates to reviewing a baseline for reviewing ITea World aged teas.  I won't directly compare these to other versions here, in part because that runs long, without informing much, tied to speculative judgment across weeks of time.

I've reviewed this Hong Tai Chang tea twice before, which is a little unconventional.  I tried it here, in 2024, back when I received these samples, which links to trying a relatively identical version in 2015.  10 years changes things, regardless of storage conditions inputs.  Here I'm using it as a baseline, a standard form for comparison for the other two teas.  It was supposed to serve as a way of discerning Liu Bao character / aspect difference, and to directly compare to the Vietnamese version.  That hit a snag, related to the latter, which I'll get into.

Review:

Hong Tai Chang:  it's good.  Rich, earthy, almost oily deep tones define the experience, along with plenty of dark mineral base.  It matches the color, the darkest of the three.  What about other typical shou aspect inclusions:  cacao, dried fruit, betel nut, medicinal range?  Maybe what people describe as betel nut is coming across, but I could be clearer on what that even is.  It could be interpreted as relating to root spice.  This is only the first infusion after a fast rinse; that's good complexity for this stage.

A thick, oily, resinous feel is pleasant.  It adds depth to the experience.  The flavor set is less novel and striking, but it is pleasant, and clean enough.  There's no barnyard range, mustiness, and the like.

Liu Bao:  it's interesting that what I guessed might be betel nut flavor is so much stronger in this; it's more of a main flavor aspect, maybe the main one.  It's hard to relate that to something more common, to explain it better.  It is kind of in between an aromatic wood tone and aged furniture effect, which I think divides into one set of flavors tied to age input and another to aromatic oils range, representing the wood treatment, which combine.  This is really smooth, and quite clean.  A bit of marshmallow flavor fills in some depth, of course along with warm mineral tone.  It's brighter than one might expect, and cleaner.

Vietnamese shou:  there's something odd going on with this.  It tastes too much like one particular range of aged furniture input, as if long contact with a foreign flavor input added too much of an aromatic oil or polishing agent edge.  It tastes perfume-like, in an unnatural way.  That's just a hint coming from it though, not a strongest flavor, but it really stands out for seeming foreign to the natural flavor range.  It tastes like this was stored next to incense sticks.  That may "burn off" over one more round, if it really is from an external contact.  If that's somehow completely natural I don't understand it.  The rest is fine, clean, with decent complexity, balance, and depth.

For using more moderate proportions than I typically do, maybe 5 grams each, I'll need to keep infusion time long to keep intensity up, on towards 30 seconds, versus a more typical 10 to 15.  Of course I intend to drink these on the strong side; they're shou and well-aged Liu Bao.

HTC #2:  feel is nice in this; it almost stands out most.  The rest of the flavor set is complex and pleasant:  what could be betel nut, root spice, and warm mineral.  It would be possible to interpret this as tasting like cacao and some kind of dried fruit, or even bark spice, since good complexity does require some imagination to unpack.  At the same time it comes across as unified and relatively simple, a bit of a contradiction.  All those flavors are expressed within a narrower range than it sounds like they might be.  A hint of marshmallow effect is nice; that's extra range.

This is clearly pretty good shou, as expected (it hasn't been that long since I tried this version).  It also highlights why I'm not all that impressed by pretty good shou.  It comes across as complex but also simple, refined but still basic.  Why seek out better and more expensive shou range just to experience marginal extra flavor, or depth?  Then again people valuing aspects or experience that I don't is normal, and reasonable.  I don't drink a fresh, intense, clean, and vegetal green tea and ask why people like that; they just do.

Liu Bao:  it's funny how much this overlaps with the first shou, but is also different.  It's slightly lighter in tone, and matches the betel nut / spice range, with even more marshmallow.  It's odd how clean this is; usually some residual mustiness comes across in most older teas, but not so much in this.  It's also definitely not faded by a high degree of air contact, although it might have experienced plenty.  Intensity is pretty good.  I suppose it comes across as just slightly more novel than the first shou version, but then the other one (HTC) expresses more warmth and intensity, darker toned and fuller in feel.  Both are good.

Vietnamese shou:  this is cleaning up, but some degree of what seems to be an external incense / perfume / even soapiness remains.  It must have experienced some external contact with something with flavor; there's no way this is completely natural (per my judgment; maybe it really is).  With that fading this much it might work to break down what the other range is without it being present as a main aspect.  

The other aspects beyond that seem fine:  warm mineral, dark wood or even spice depth, perhaps some dried fruit, or one other novel theme.  But the range that I take to be a foreign input stands out the most still, partly for being novel in an unconventional way, along with it being as intense as any other input.

A friend passed on a white tea that seemed to have an even stronger degree of foreign flavor input, which he thought might have come from a processing flaw, instead of being stored in a laundry room, next to soap and drier sheets, as it tasted like it might've been.  This isn't that intense.  It's not ruined, still drinkable, but it seems off to me.

HTC #3:  this isn't changing too much.  It is evolving in a positive way, based on trivial changes.  The same basic aspect list applies.

Liu Bao:  the same is true for this.  Root spice is picking up.  By that I typically mean along the line of ginseng, or even sassafras.  I could also mean that it tastes like other Chinese medicinal herbs that I can't fully place, like a Chinatown spice shop.  This also tastes like marshmallow, so that root range stands out most, but there is more to it, more vague, warm, complex underlying spice tone.  At the same time it comes across as quite clean.  It's definitely one of the better Liu Bao versions I've ever tried, giving up some intensity related to a long transition to this complex, mild form, but it's a decent trade-off.  

Comparing this directly to a much younger Liu Bao might not make much sense; something half this old, or a bit younger, may include more intensity, and a slightly different flavor profile, but it would also just be a different kind of experience.  34 year old tea is aging into a different kind of range.

Vietnamese shou:  apparently that perfume-range input will keep declining, but it won't go away.  It's a little disappointing; it would've been nice to get a clearer read on the rest without it, and to have that experience.  It comes across a little like a flavored tea.  Judged as such, in relation to that being a value-neutral inclusion, it's pretty good.  It just tastes like it was stored near incense sticks, and those match well enough with shou experience.  

What are the chances that this could be a completely natural, but novel, extra flavor inclusion?  I'd guess unlikely.  The range of how extra unique flavors enter in and combine becomes familiar over time, and I don't think this is that.

This next round will do it for the note-taking phase; this is so much tea to power through.  Any sensible person would just throw out the tea, after tasting enough to make the notes, but to me that's too disrespectful towards it.

HTC #4:  not changing much; it's still pretty good.

Liu Bao:  the same.  I brewed this round a little lighter so it may not work quite as well for me, but the teas don't seem different.  I never did address this being lighter in color than the first shou.  Could it be less than fully fermented?  I don't think so, at this age, 34 years old.  But the output could be different based on that resulting from different inputs.  Flavor range is slightly lighter too; hopefully that was already apparent in the tasting notes.

Vietnamese shou:  that flavoring input is easing up more than the rest is transitioning; this is the best this has been.  People would probably be divided on whether that one aspect range is a negative input, or relatively neutral, or I suppose if they read it as being natural it's possible that someone would even like it.  

The tea is fine, at this stage.  It tastes like ordinary shou, aged enough that the fermentation related funky input is gone (wo dui?).  It's just not overly complex or novel.  In retrospect, during editing, I really didn't get into aging differences, or differences in intensity or heaviness of flavor tones, in relation to the Thai shou version.  This review process was really thrown off by that one aspect input.

Conclusions:

This isn't really the kind of storage issue I was trying to unpack related to further comparison with ITea World sample set versions, but this does come up, the theme of external contamination.  

In a milder form it's quite common.  If I buy cakes from my favorite Bangkok Chinatown shop they're usually initially quite musty, from being stored in enclosed, hot, and humid conditions.  That will fade quite a bit over the first few months, as they pick up additional air exposure, since I don't keep them in a sealed room with a literal ton of other tea.  Some of that relates to being in contact with a lot of other tea, and also with packaging materials, with the paper in the cakes, and whatever cardboard might be around, all of which is fermenting in storage.  

We have a room full of old books in our house--of essentially no value; it's a long story--and within a few decades the paper browns, as it oxidizes, and as fungus--or mold, essentially--grows on the paper.  The libraries at the University of Hawaii, where I attended grad school, were undergoing something similar.  In one they maintained high airflow to offset that (lots of fans, in the Sinclair library), and in the other aggressive central air conditioning lowered humidity and temperature.  It's normal in the tropics.  Then it's odd how infrequently that relates to tea cakes growing actual mold, which makes for a longer story.

Storing tea next to something that changes its flavor isn't completely normal, but it would come up.  Vendors and producers try to avoid that, but we hear of lots of cases of extra bits of tea being found in unusual places, in attics and such.  That's why I keep expecting more mustiness to be an issue in these aged teas, since that's all the more common, and why I'm surprised that it's often not coming up at all.

2014 Shou Mei white tea, 1995 Shui Xian oolong

 

iTeaworld 2025 New Year Tea Gift Set (Year of the Snake Edition) - The Collection of 10 Aged Teas

1995 Shui Xian Oolong Tea

1998 Tie Guan Yin Oolong Tea

1995 Aged Phoenix Dan Cong

2003 Sheng Pu-erh Tea

2003 Shou Pu-erh Tea

2008 Double-Steamed Liu Bao Tea

2014 Shou Mei White Tea

2014 Zheng Shan Xiao Zhong Black Tea

1998 Jasmine Green Tea

1980s Fu Brick Tea

Listing for $75.90 for 100 grams, it's hard to determine relative value, given that this range is a bit rare.  It also depends on quality level; older teas aren't always pleasant, and didn't always hold up well to storage inputs.  These did; I'm including the product information after doing the review notes.  76 cents a gram is probably fine for good quality teas in this rare a type range.

Let's get right to the review then.

a slightly better look at the dry leaves

Review:

2014 Shou Mei:  this is nice.  It's not as intense as it will be for rounds after this, even though I brewed it for nearly 30 seconds, but it's started nicely.  A warm spice aspect stands out, and richness of feel, and depth.  Honey-like sweetness is pronounced.  Other warm tones might include pastry, like a danish tastes.  So far no dried fruit is standing out, but this includes most of the rest of the range aged white teas typically might.

1996 Shui Xian:  that's interesting.  On the one hand there's a much stronger age-related flavor than is typical in just about any tea version, aged books or furniture or whatever.  I've been drinking a lot of aged tea lately so that's familiar, in different forms.  Then other warm range is more like leather, or even towards coffee.  Only the long-faded remains of a probably initially high level of roast remains.  A dark caramel flavor aspect is promising; that might pick up.  Strong and dark mineral tones ground the rest.

It doesn't integrate as well as it might, but then this is only an early round, and some aspects tend to "burn off" within a round or two.  It's not very musty.  One part of that aged furniture or books range includes a little funkiness, but it's moderate for this being a 30 year old tea, and this being the first round.  It's not sour either; that could easily creep in, depending on storage conditions (included dampness).  This was stored fairly well.  It will be interesting to see how it evolves.  Of course it's a bit "stronger" than the white tea, in terms of intensity, but the other version has greater depth.  All that could still shift though.

Shou Mei #2:  richer and deeper in flavor and feel.  Still, this conveys what is positive and limiting about aged white tea, even though it's a pretty good version of one, type-typical and pleasant.  Flavors are nice, and feel is rich.  It balances well.  Sweetness is good, and it's clean in effect.  Then it's also a bit limited in intensity, in a couple of senses.  There is no astringency edge to offset the rest, only a rich feel.  Flavor is positive but the range it spans is limited.  To me this would be a nice tea to drink a few times, maybe even a half dozen times, but I wouldn't want to have it once a week for months.  For me basic black teas and my favorite young sheng range I would appreciate over and over.

I drink aged white tea when I fast; along with shou pu'er it's gentle enough to be fine even if you haven't eaten for a few days.  In that context it's nice experiencing any flavor, and any eating related process, even just drinking a tea, or tisane.  

Related to changes maybe the bread range has expanded a little in this, tasting like a sourdough sticky bun.  That's good, but the rest of the range is still limited.

Shui Xian:  this picks up depth too, and "cleans up" a bit.  The aged effect is still present, but the mustier side of that--which was already limited--drops back.  A spice note stands out more, one that's hard to place.  It reminds me of different parts of a favorite Chinese bean and dried fruit desert, served with ice, mixed together, like Chinese date and candied lotus root.  

I just saw this in a local Japanese grocery store, the day I posted this

This is interesting, and pleasant.  It didn't seem to fade over those years, but I'm getting the sense that this won't last, that it's already hinting towards fading from being brewed, under one minute of infusion time in.  

This range of tea isn't really familiar to me.  I've tried aged Wuyi Yancha, but never over a decade old, as far as I remember.  This is holding up for intensity better than I would have expected, and the flavor range is clean and pleasant, complex in a novel way.  Caramel or toffee sweetness does hang in there, along with earthier range that's hard to place, warm mineral tones, and dried fruit depth.

Shou Mei #3:  about the same.  I brewed that a little longer, maybe 45 seconds instead of just under 30, since there are no concerns about too much intensity or harshness related to both.  Brewing it strong will drop the infusion count, but I'll probably stop taking notes here anyway.  It's not transitioning, not changing.  

In terms of interpretation of flavors if you think about dried fruit when you drink it, one more flavor that tends to emerge in aged white teas, it does taste a little like dried raisin or date.  Not much, and part of that is probably a bias in "looking for it," but it's a little like that.

Shui Xian:  this did transition; an interesting bark spice aspect picked up.  Cinnamon is the one bark spice we are familiar with, but there are others.  For nearly 20 years I was into tisanes, before exploring "real tea," and I tried a lot within that range over that time.  It's odd that I don't bring it up more here, but that was a long ago, and it didn't work to commit a lot of the flavors and experiences to memory.  When I moved to Thailand 17 years ago I tried out some herb teas here, but explore more coffee, and then tea.  

I could struggle more placing a flavor list for this tea at this stage, or describe it fading some over a few more rounds, but I'm not going to.  For pushing these teas, using such long infusion times, the infusion count will be low, maybe at only a half dozen, and they'll be a lot more faded than normal by the 5th and 6th round.  I'd have a chance to list a new flavor aspect for one or both, but the main story has been told already.

I will also mention that on the next round a brandy-like flavor aspect seemed to pick up, something that had been present before then, but that was clearer at that point, easier to put a label on.  Again the white tea changed less.

Conclusions:

Both of these are good.  I would've expected more storage issues, and limitations, but these didn't express those much.  These two styles are limited, in relation to each tea style having a different character, and only covering so much scope.  Young sheng pu'er expresses crazy intensity, and fully aged sheng pu'er trades that out for other flavor range and complexity.  These are interesting, and novel, and not similar to either of those ranges.  Neither is in a range I'd want to drink a lot of the time, but they're both very positive experiences.  The "daily drinker" theme is always separate from other exploration range anyway.

I can't really say that the Shui Xian is completely type-typical, related to not being that familiar with such aged Wuyi Yancha.  It's more intense than I expected, and complexity is good, with novel flavor range expressed, which I did expect.  I might've expected more flaws; it's nice to be wrong about that.

In one sense I think aged white tea can be over-rated, but then preferences do vary, so that only works in relation to my own preference.  The same applies to well-aged rolled oolong; it's interesting, and some people love it, but I don't really, since it usually just picks up warmer tones and tastes a little like plum.  

Until someone tries a type-typical version they wouldn't know what they like or don't like, which is the whole point of this kind of sample set.  In these two cases it achieved its intended outcome; these were interesting and pleasant versions of these types.

Moychay 2005 Lincang cha tou shu pu'er

This should be a really nice tea.  I've expressed that I see shu as a tea type that varies a lot less than many others in the past, the "shu is shu" idea, which I always clarify by adding that some is better or worse, or more interesting.  Examples of cha tou, or tea heads, clumps of shu that form naturally during production, have been an interesting and pleasant exception in the past.  There's a particular range of experience that seems to differ in those, one that I've lost track of for it being so long for trying a version.  Of course it could be that I just happened to try a really good version one time, and extrapolated from that incorrectly, but this is a commonly expressed opinion, that versions can be interesting and nice.

This version is from Lincang county (the Shuangjiliang District of that, which doesn't mean anything to me), which doesn't change my specific expectations, but that sounds ok.  The age is interesting; for a heavily fermented shu it will just smooth out in transition over time, and not change that much (per my impression; of course plenty of others would disagree), but less fully fermented shu can transition more over time, and 17 years is awhile.  The experience is the thing, more than back-story themes, even when those are interesting, so I'll move onto that.

Since this label includes a description I'll break normal form and add that here before tasting and editing, the opposite of more typically tasting without seeing any input (also on their site listing):

The brewed tea has matured, refined nutty balsamic bouquet with hints of chocolate, dried berries, herbs, and autumn leaves.  The aroma is deep, viscous, nutty balsamic.  The taste is rich, complex, sliding, a bit sweetish and spicy, with a slight bitterness and sourness.  The aftertaste is juicy, lingering, velvety.

Part of citing that is looking for one distinct typical character range in cha tou.  I could look up what I've written before, but it's not as if I've reviewed versions so many times a pattern would emerge, maybe only once or twice.  There was something really catchy that I'm not remembering well, maybe along the lines of fresh baked bread, but towards a darker grain range.  Or maybe that's way off, and there is no consistent aspect pattern in shu clumps versus the rest.  I just looked up three other vendor references for versions, one of which I reviewed here, and they were just described as extra sweet, creamy, and in some cases tending to have a berry like aspect.

I might also mention that some other cha tou versions have seemed a bit more clumped than this, not that it means a lot to me as an input.

Review:

First infusion:  I only used a fast rinse, all I ever go with.  Some others mention a 10 or 20 second soak, but I just rinse shu, aged shengs, and hei cha versions quickly.  This first round will be a bit light then, because it won't start infusing well quickly.  

It's promising.  Cocoa does stand out, and I can kind of get the berry range beyond that.  There is no dominant or heavy earthiness, quite different from some shu range, and the overall effect is quite clean.  For standard versions, regardless of form, origin, or fermentation level, it's often said that rougher edge fermentation product aspects will fade over 2 to 3 years, the heavy peat and petroleum and such, and 17 years is a long time for that transition to finish.  This tea could've even finished fermenting naturally, if it was at a light level initially.

Spice is a nice input already, towards a warm and aromatic incense spice, but I would expect flavor aspects and feel will be easier to evaluate over the next two rounds.

Second infusion:  I brewed that about 15 seconds, longer than would really be necessary for a high proportion, but that will move it along to a higher intensity and towards the character range it's getting to.  For being brewed at twice the infusion strength of the last round the earthiness ramped up.  It's along the line of slate, like a wet chalk board smell.  It still seems relatively clean, with a lot of other range filling in along with that, the cocoa, berry, and spice.  Aromatic wood would be a decent interpretation for another main aspect at this stage.  I would expect this to "clean up" a lot over the next two rounds and for that heavier range to give way to a more refined character.  It's not musty though, and barely contains any of the heavier and odder fermentation related flavors, so I don't mean in the same sense as for some shu becoming more approachable.

It's nice; it seems appropriate to pass on an impression of liking it, even if it is early for that.  It's a little light as shu goes, with even the fullness of feel a bit light compared to how very heavy flavored and intense shu can come across.  The trade-off for losing some of that weight or creamy fullness is this positive flavor range, complexity, and refinement.

Third infusion:  there is a dark bread like quality to this, which emerges more across the rounds.  Of course it would be possible to just eat a dark bread to get a very intense experience of that, but this is different, combined with a novel mineral undertone range, and other cocoa, warm spice, and light fruit complexity.  Feel and aftertaste are nice, but it's easy to expect a lot of thickness of feel related to how heavier shu comes across, or some sheng, especially related to lengthy aftertaste experience.  To me those fill in positive depth to the overall experience, with the refinement and flavor range and complexity more exceptional.

At the same time that this rejects the generality that all shu is similar it also partly supports that.  This version is more complex, refined, and interesting than most shu, by a broad margin, but it's also an easy to drink, relatively simple to experience tea.

A discussion with a friend about cha qi warrants filling in, yet again, that I'm not overly sensitive to that factor.  I can't say how this tea makes me feel any different than drinking Indian black tea with breakfast yesterday.  When sheng effect is very strong I notice that, but I seem to lack a consistent baseline for inner experience that makes it easier to notice variations.  My energy level varies for a lot for other reasons, even though my mood is a lot more stable than for most.  I think the noise of living with kids throws off that degree and type of inner self-awareness; I'm most calm when the background noise dies down, and have the most energy when the demands taper off.

I'm also completely not into drug-like effects of any kind, so changes or inputs can seem interesting to me but I wouldn't necessarily value them.  I don't drink alcohol or consume any other kinds of drugs; I've already done my time with all that.  I've nothing against alcohol, and would drink some at a wedding, it just doesn't come up.  I exercise at an intense level when running, and that gives you a bit of a buzz after, but I can't relate to people valuing that either.  It's a minor adjustment of form of life experience, nothing too significant, and it passes quickly enough, and carries no meaning while it happens.  Communing with nature during a hike, walking on a beach, or during a tea session outdoors, is something else, that's a longer term experience of a connection outside yourself, a real change of experience form.  

I'm not rejecting that some people experience and value "cha qi" as the main desirable effect that is related to tea experience; surely they're really getting that.

some variation in leaf color is interesting

Fourth infusion:  oddly the finish / feel of this tea seemed to transition the most; it is more velvety.  Tone seems just a little richer, darkening a little, but this is absolutely smooth and clean at this stage.

Fifth infusion:  I don't get the impression that this is going to evolve or transition quickly, or perhaps so much at all over a half dozen more infusions.  Which is fine; it's really nice as it is.  It has a nice depth to it; it's not just that the flavor range spans some scope, but it comes across as layered for having that plus the feel richness.  Aftertaste intensity is a bit limited, but that's normal enough for shu in general, compared to potential for sheng.  If someone really valued that they could brew this twice as strong, but as I experience it intensity is fine at a moderate level.  

One concern that occurs with aged teas in general is value, cost.  For sheng versions that weren't expensive at all that could still be moderate, but just as likely any aged sheng cake at all (from this time-frame) would be in the $150 and up range, at least 50 cents a gram, and how much someone values that experience has to factor in related the more significant expense.  This really is novel compared to other shu experience, but only to a certain degree.  Then again how people see spending 50 or 75 cents per gram versus 20 or 25 depends as much on their budget as tea preference, or variation in what they could experience.  If this does cost in the lower aged sheng range, which I would expect, it's worth it in the sense of being novel, but at the same time not so different.  Shu is shu, even relatively unique shu.

Editing note:  it's listed for $37 per 100 grams, which seems quite fair to me given what this is.  "Clumpier" cha tou might provide a bit of aesthetic edge but the character of this is nice.

I think the appeal of this tea would be relatively universal; there is that.  It's novel enough that someone who drinks shu could recognize the uniqueness and approachable enough that for a relative beginner at least it would seem pleasant.  I was trying to explain how that works from the other direction in talking in a group oriented for early exploration about someone trying a shu mini-tuo.  Typically at best those aren't so bad, but shu can still be nice to experience in moderate quality versions, it just doesn't warrant as much attention.

Sixth infusion:  what I interpret as root spice range is picking up, and creamy feel ramps up further; this is still transitioning.  I should give it a slightly longer soak to check on what one more round and that brewing difference changes and leave off taking notes.

Seventh infusion:  it's nice the way that cocoa stays present, even though the minor berry or fruit range kind of faded, giving way to more spice range.  An earthiness in this is catchy, the way that driftwood smells, something unique.  

Conclusions:

This reminds me of talking to a tea friend and mentioning that to some extent people see in teas what they want to experience.  The opposite can happen, or other surprises, but quite often people expect a tea to be unique and exceptional and find it to be so, partly related to bias.  This tea someone could judge as one of the most amazing shu versions they've ever tried, as novel, well balanced, and distinctive, or as kind of not so different than other good shu.  I guess I expected to see both in it, and do, so that still kind of works.  I can't imagine someone not liking this tea but seeing it as not so different than other shu versions would be easier to justify, I just don't see it that way.

The range of aspect variation isn't narrower for shu than for green, black, or oolong tea versions, so it's probably really just the crazy complexity and diversity of sheng that makes this type seem simpler in comparison.  Or at least that's how I see it.

Keo's idea of posing, looking away while moving

meanwhile glamour shots of her turn up in my phone gallery