Bangkok Chinatown Dan Cong, compared with Moychay Nanjing Yesheng Dan Cong

 

I'm reviewing a sample of tea given to me by a local Chinatown shop owner, from the K. Mui Kee Tea shop.  I stopped by my favorite shop near there, Jip Eu, to buy tea as a gift for a local monk, for an event, and they were closed due to building repairs on their shop (the roof awning was damaged; a part of it fell).  

that shop owner is so nice, but I'm always visiting Jip Eu instead, since I know them

The tea I bought looked and smelled great, a wild origin black tea, but I don't have any of that to try and review.  But they did give me a sample of Dan Cong, so I'm reviewing it along with a version from Moychay.  Moychay just sent a mix of lots of samplers, as a thanks for helping with some editing, so I'll use them for comparison versions, when it works out.

There won't be any final type description of this Chinatown tea.  Maybe they mentioned a type range, or maybe they didn't.  I think the owner said that it's not Mi Lan Xiang, but I don't remember if he mentioned what it is.  He said that it's from an old plant source, and that it's really high in quality.

The price I did get:  1800 baht for 100 grams, which is about $53.  It's a great deal for that price, but then that's kind of normal for a lot of Bangkok Chinatown shops.  It's sky-high in relation to a lot of other tea range sold in Chinatown, but you could buy versions that aren't nearly as good for 1 1/2 to 2 times that price.

Here are the Moychay listing details:

Nanjing Wild Dancong Oolong (Nanjing Yesheng Dancong Cha)  (it's about $38 for 50 grams)

Nanjing Wild Dancong Oolong is an exceptionally rare tea harvested from abandoned old tea gardens and wild tea trees in the high mountains of Nanjing County, Fujian Province. The tea originates from Dancong cultivars that were once cultivated but have since grown wild for several decades, blending naturally with undomesticated tea trees in remote forested terrain.

The tea is hand-harvested each spring in extremely limited quantities—no more than 50 kilograms per year. Locating and gaining access to these trees took years of searching, as the gardens are known only to a handful of locals and remain largely hidden deep in the mountains.

The leaves are picked as one bud with two or three mature leaves and processed using traditional methods: withering, oxidation, fixation, rolling, and drying. The dry leaves are large, twisted, and wild in appearance, with a deep forest fragrance.

When brewed, Nanjing Wild Dancong produces a golden liquor with an arresting aroma—earthy, woody, with hints of tropical flowers and resin. The flavor is intense yet clean, with deep minerality, vibrant energy, and a lasting sweet-bitter balance that reflects the strength of its wild roots. It holds up to long and multiple steepings, revealing its complex, layered personality over time.

That sounds good, but the character seemed in between conventional Dan Cong range and typical good Taiwanese oolong character, maybe closer to the latter.  That's still exceptional, but perhaps not what people seeking out novel Dan Cong experience are looking for.

It's crazy that I'm reviewing two Dan Cong versions without mentioning a type name / fragrance category.  There probably is one, related to the Bangkok Chinatown tea, but that description is a decent reason for why there isn't one for the second.

This might be the black tea I just bought, looking for more background on this Dan Cong.  If that is it that sold for 850 baht ($25) for 175 grams, or 14 cents a gram.  If it tasted as good as it smelled it's a steal at that pricing.  I should give some to another monk, and tell him I need to pinch some to try it for review.

You can get a limited sense of how this is going to go from the dry leaf appearance, which isn't how tastings usually work out.

Review:

K. Mui Kee Tea Wudong Songzhong:  this brews so much darker than the other that a main difference is surely going to be oxidation level, probably coupled with a difference in roast input.  You could see that in the dry leaves; the reddish color base is what oxidized versions would tend to look like, and the dark green with lighter green in the tips is normal for lighter oolong.

I'm not sure the type of this.  It's sort of floral, but at the same time fruity.  It's not exactly like Mi Lan Xiang, although it could be that, and it just happens to express a good bit of ripe peach as well.  [editing note:  I mean it could be that from my limited ability to match the taste; as I recall the shop owner said it's not Mi Lan Xiang, since he mentioned that he sells a lower quality, lower cost version of that, but this is something else].

This form seems perfect, the way that oxidation, and surely some roast, combine to integrate those rich, layered flavors.  The material had to be really favorable to make this, but they also got the processing just right.

Even brewed light, on the first round, it's intense, with a rich feel, and lots of flavor depth and complexity.  It carries over aftertaste effect.  I really should be able to pin down the primary flavor, but may never in this.

Moychay Nanjing Yesheng Dan Cong:  it's a completely different style, of course.  It comes across almost like other forms of oolong, like something out of Taiwan, for being this light.  Intensity is still pretty good, and creaminess is pleasant.  It's not the most type-typical for Dan Cong preparation, but it works.  

Feel is pleasant, and there's a richness and complexity to this too, and even depth.  Flavors are in a much lighter range, but overall intensity is good.  Again the lighter floral range reminds me of Taiwanese high mountain oolong.  A unique and good version of one, but it's still in that range.

People sometimes discuss brewing around a characteristic astringency in Dan Cong, and these aren't harsh at all.  There's fullness to both, but no edge.  I think that relates more to low elevation grown, lower quality versions.

KMK Songzhong #2:  this tastes more like almond this round; maybe it's that flavor type?  It still includes great warm mineral depth, and some degree of floral and fruit range.  It's complex.  There's a pleasant liqueur like character to it, like cognac, brandy, or perfume.  The intense flavor really coats your mouth, as the feel does.  This is clearly a very good quality tea.  I forget the selling price for it but it was quite high, which I suppose is justified, given how nice this is.

M Nanjing:  tones warm in this.  It includes even more mixed floral range, which I can't place.  This might relate to three different flower scents, but one part is most pronounced.  A little of a green wood sort of astringency picks up, but it's so faint that green wood isn't a natural interpretation of it.  Maybe it's closer to spruce pine buds, for anyone who has ever tasted that.  It's like the more vegetal part of sage, which works out to actually be a complex scent and flavor range.

It's difficult for this to compare or compete with the other, related to my own preference, given how much I like that warmer toned, more balanced Dan Cong style.  But within the lighter style this expresses it's good.  It's interesting that it includes creaminess; that's more a different oolong range entirely.

Switching back to the other the perfume-like scent range stands out, and a light form of completely different feel.  A spice like cinnamon might include warm flavors, and it might also affect the feel in your mouth, and this (other Chinatown Dan Cong) is like that.  Not taking a tablespoon of dry cinnamon, I don't mean, but the much milder effect from a good bit of cinnamon being put on toast, of course with butter and sugar.

KMK Songzhong #3:  a little lighter, related to forward flavors, but the depth is as strong as ever.  I'm brewing this quite fast, and could extend the time to over 10 seconds next time, instead of under that.  It's quite pleasant brewed light though, since the flavor is already intense, and the feel doesn't become thin.  Sweetness stands out well brewed light.  

This is so complex that it doesn't really match the more typical one note sort of main flavor effect of Dan Cong.  There probably is one, that I'm not catching, but it expresses a range of flavors.

M Nanjing:  even though I love the other style more this holds its own relatively well.  It's also complex and full, with pretty good aftertaste expression.  Related to my own preference the much lighter flavor tone isn't as nice, but that part could be subjective.  It includes a little vegetal range, which isn't really a flaw, but it's different than the other only hitting positive, integrated flavor notes.  This is still mostly floral in flavor range, with creaminess actually tasting a little like cream.  

KMK Songzhong #4:  it's stronger, brewed stronger, but the perfume like intensity was already good last time.  The feel becomes more structured, and warmer tones stand out more.  A spice-like aspect range is more present, not unlike cinnamon, but maybe broader than that, including more than one spice flavor.  Almond is still present, and it didn't completely drop warm floral and rich fruit range.  All of that is bundled within a narrow and integrated range, even though it's quite complex.  Or maybe it's that it all connects somehow, that it matches and links together.  It's an interesting effect.

M Nanjing:  this is still quite pleasant, not so different than the last round, just a little heavier for being brewed longer.  Again this is in between a conventional high mountain oolong style, and typical Dan Cong.  Maybe just backing off the oxidation level input leads to that effect, but I'd guess in this case the "wild origin" plant type is playing a role.  It's interesting that the wild origin plant seems to taste a lot like a Qing Xin variation, the older set of plant types used in Taiwan.  

later rounds:  I tried these over a number of additional rounds, of course.  Both stayed quite pleasant for awhile, not changing in particularly interesting or unexpected ways.  Feel grew stronger and dryer in the Chinatown version, while the Moychay tea stayed smooth and full until the end.  Both were made from exceptionally high quality tea material, just in two relatively opposite processing styles.

Conclusions:

Now I wonder how much that Chinatown version cost.  $1 a gram pricing is pretty much unheard of locally (the Moychay version was 76 cents a gram, not quite that), so it really could sell for a lot less and still seem expensive, per local norms.  I should ask that shop owner and add it here, after I finish this post, as a later edit.  

That tea probably is worth at least $1 a gram; good Dan Cong is in high demand, and that version is pretty far up the scale.  If it's something like $2 that's too much, no matter how good it is, or how old a plant source is, even if that's still a normal market rate.

I've been trying some pretty exceptional teas recently, which has me considering just what it means for a tea to be about as good as a style or type gets.  That last Fu zhuan was amazing, and the two green teas (from Viet Sun and Moychay) were really good.  Even the last Thai sheng and black tea from Wawee Tea were pretty much as good as anything I've had from Thailand, although I think in that case it related more to a match to my own preference than to an atypical quality issue.  Quality level was good, very favorable, but they also happened to be just what I like.

As a sheng pu'er drinker I can sometimes really miss that intensity and general character, when I try these other exceptional versions.  Maybe less so with the Fu zhuan; that depth, complexity, and refinement really transcended the normal type range, for those.  With Dan Cong complexity is often favorable, in spite of what I just said about them tending to taste like one flavor, as they are marketed, but depth and refinement really sets the type apart.  But I still miss the way that sheng hits; it's hard to acclimate to the lower intensity.

Related to the Moychay Dan Cong tasting like Taiwanese oolong, to me, I think some people would find that very off-putting, and for others it could be a main appeal, a draw.  It's in between the conventional style ranges, which is completely unique.  But it's not floral or fruity in the same way Dan Cong often is, including that perfume like aromatic context that can come up.  It traded out that strength for including rich feel, and creaminess, and a different overall balance.  I suppose many people might already know where they stand on lighter versus more oxidized Dan Cong preparation.

Both teas were exceptional, again.  That running theme made it hard to place those recent Chen Sheng Hao sheng pu'er versions, the inexpensive and good value types, which were pretty good, well balanced and enjoyable, but more ordinary.  I can really appreciate ordinary but good tea; to me it's good enough.

Wild origin teas, adopting foreign tea styles

First posted by TChing here.

These two subjects came up recently in an online social meetup with Rajiv Lochan, about teas made from "wild" origin forest-source plants, and that of producers adopting and interpreting foreign styles of tea.  Problems can occur with both themes and approaches.

The range of both of these ideas and cases is all a bit complicated.  It can be hard to map out what is occurring or might occur related to using different types of natural growth plant sources, or drawing on local tea processing styles, and draw clear lines in what is typical or acceptable and what goes too far in violating some type of norm.  We didn't get very far with that discussion, so to be clear all of this is my own framing of a complex set of ideas, that we didn't discuss in detail in that meetup.

It's well known that wild growing tea plants are common throughout the Assam area, and other areas in India, and in Thailand, Myanmar, Laos, and Vietnam.  These Assamica variety plants aren't closely related to Yunnan Assamica, or maybe even to plantation Assamica versions of Indian teas.  Due to interbreeding with other species of Camelia Sinensis the range of what is growing can be inconsistent.  The typical understanding is that these plants are remnants of past use and intended planting by earlier people, not necessarily in ancient times, but as some point in the past.  Within that context the tea plants could be seen as feral versus truly wild, untended but not completely naturally propagated.  All that could be clearer, and to some extent it doesn't really matter.  

natural growth tea plant in the north of Thailand

this shows size better

what that area looks like

One influential tea blogger has claimed that wild tea plant produced beverages are better regarded as a tisane, not as true tea.  To me that goes a little far with applying category judgment, but I get it, and there's a lot to that.  Processed version results are often inconsistent, just less so for Yunnan based versions (or those represented as such).  Two of the main versions I've tried in Thailand ended up being quite sour, and then more other versions presented as such were not atypical of Yunnan Assamica plant based sheng pu'er.  I recently tried an Indian newly-created version of sheng, which was very unusual, as close to black tea in character as sheng pu'er.  It's not "pu'er," which is a region-specific type, but then sheng means "raw," so as I see it using that term is equivalent to calling any tea black (relatively fully oxidized), just a general description.

So again, what's the problem with "wild origin tea," beyond someone preferring to keep the term and range of "tea" narrowly focused?  Inconsistency can be seen as a problem, for products to vary with changes in whatever happens to be gathered.  Some of the plants could really be Camellia Taliensis material, a version that's around in Yunnan, or Camellia Formosensis, a "wild tea" plant in Taiwan.  Or something else, or a hybrid, a mix of types.  It doesn't seem to pose a significant safety issue, that a producer might be poisoning you, but just not knowing what a product essentially is can seem unusual.  Maybe to some extent there is a health risk to be considered; I can't exclude that.

maybe "Shan" versions come up most, not the Formosensis "wild teas" listed (source)

Importing styles from one country or region to another is something else, raising a different concern.  Rajiv expressed how Indians producing something called Longjing or Matcha could be deceiving, whether or not location based designation protection deems that unacceptable or not.  I completely agree.  

This reminds me of a very early experience with tea in visiting Vietnam, trying a version of Japanese green tea there, produced with Japanese support.  I'd be a better judge now of how close the style match was, but I bought some and drank it, and it seemed fine, or maybe just a little rough edged.  At the time I thought it was great that countries and cultures could influence each other like that, to share experience and technology.  Later, after thinking it through and being exposed to more background, I realized that it was likely that the tea was destined to be sold as being from Japan, regardless of where it was finally consumed.  That's different.  The knowledge sharing and alternative product development steps still seem fine, but that last step not so much.

Can we say that Vietnam should not produce Japanese style tea?  It's not as easy to conclude that.  The toothpaste is definitely out of the tube in relation to Vietnam producing Taiwanese style oolong, a lot of which is understood to return to Taiwan to be sold as Taiwanese tea back there.  It would be all the easier for Vietnamese-Taiwanese versions to be misrepresented in other countries.  In the North of Thailand you can buy the same Thai tea packaged as either from local production, what it is, or as being from Taiwan, what it isn't.  That's a hearsay based account, to be clear, related to what has been passed on to me second hand as vendor communication.  It doesn't conflict with how other types of branded products are sold here.

Let's set that aside, and consider that if every product is sold as exactly what it is, should India produce Japanese style green tea or not?  It's hard to find a broad enough justification to say no, but there are clear reasons for seeing that as a negative thing.

What about sheng ("pu'er")?  As I see it we are onto a different kind of case, because at least based on my single related experience the resulting product from India couldn't be presented as Yunnan true pu'er, even if one wanted to do so.  It's too different.  Of course a variation of sheng made just across a border from China could be exactly the same as teas made a few kilometers away.

one year old Ketlee Indian "sheng;" it's dark

So now we are talking about hybrid styles, about one region borrowing processing steps and final tea styles from another.  Is that ok?  To me it is, but I can relate to why some "purists" wouldn't think so.  My favorite Indonesian tea producer, Toba Wangi, has moved to produce tea plant types from other places, made by drawing on foreign processing styles, as novel new tea types.  I think that's fine, but maybe not everyone else would.  It could depend on how the tea plants were obtained, and of course on branding / marketing claims.

early Toba Wangi plantation plantings; definitely monoculture

Nepal tea being sold as Darjeeling is something else altogether; now we are back to a sort of counterfeiting case.  What about a Nepal tea being based on a Darjeeling clone, borrowing as much as possible from Darjeeling processing, grown in conditions chosen to duplicate results, but still sold as Nepal tea?  That seems less clear, and not as clearly ok.  And that seems much closer to what Vietnam is doing with Taiwanese oolong, since all of those steps and factors match in that case.  Even Taiwanese people are brought there to process the tea, per my understanding. As Chinese people are now, and have long since been, training people in Thailand, Laos, and Myanmar to make pu'er-like tea.  

locally produced "wild" Thai "sheng pu'er-like" tea

Vietnam is different related to this case; the tradition of making what they tend to call "sun-dried tea" is not new to them (or maybe really just translated to dried tea, per what I've been told).  Those teas have long since been bought and brought back to China to be blended into Yiwu pu'er versions.  Mind you Vietnam makes a broad range of local styles that don't exist anywhere else too; their tea tradition is very diverse and developed.  Some of it is rustic and rough-edged, and some refined, distinctive, novel, and very high in quality.  Vietnamese teas don't get the credit they deserve, but the more awareness and demand spreads the more pricing inflates, so it's probably not a completely bad thing.

It's hard to end either subject with a clear "in conclusion..." summary.  Varying experiences bring up different combinations of circumstances and final outcomes.  I'm probably a lot more open to producers using different kinds of tea materials and processing styles than some others would be.  I see it as a natural evolution.  The sustainability issue related to using currently growing, forest based plants isn't lost on me; one main (frequent) alternative is for producers to clear-cut forest sections for mono-culture tea production.  That's not better.  Then right up to the edge of tea version counterfeiting I'm fine with producers borrowing styles.

Borrowing tea type names is almost a different subject.  Should Thailand producers be able to call teas Oriental Beauty?  If a type based on Yunnan sheng pu'er is made elsewhere, which is common, and pre-dated the current borders of China and the conventional name "pu'er," per my understanding, what should that be called?  Opinions would vary.  The point here was to raise these issues for consideration, for limited discussion, more than proposing my own take on resolutions or limitations tied to any of these themes.

Thai Oriental Beauty, or at least it's based partly on that type and style

Moychay 2018 Menghai yesheng shu pu'er

 

Reviewing another nice Moychay shu, a 2018 produced version yesheng version from Menghai, so made from wild grown tea plant material, pressed in 2019.  I'll cite their own description as background and frame what I'm focusing on in this review after:

Menghai Yesheng Shu Puer Moychay.com (wild tea trees raw material, harvested 2018, pressed 2019), 357 g (listing for $25.56)

Shu Puer from shoots of wild tea trees of Menghai County, 2018 harvest.

357 g teacake of pressed dark-brown twisted leaves with thin cuttings and reddish tips. The aroma is restrained, woody. The infusion is dark,  reddish-chestnut .

The bouquet of the ready-made tea is mature, nutty-and-woody, with notes of baked milk, spicy herbs and dried berries. The aroma is deep and warm, nutty with a milky accent. The taste is rich, velvety, sweetish, with a slight woody tartness, refined bitterness of dried berries and spicy nuances.

So far so good.  I've reviewed a number of shu from them before, and although shu isn't what I normally turn to in the mornings to drink I've liked all of them.  When I feel like something basic it is nice having shu handy, an approachable version of tea that's easy to brew in any way you want.  It's the only tea type that's flexible enough to brew in a thermos, per my limited experimentation, although if you're careful enough about proportion shou mei (white) might work too.

So the framing; given how their shu tends to be generally solid and great value I'd expect more of the same, but for this being that inexpensive it's something to consider.  Related to my own general critique of shu typically being all a bit similar I'm comparison tasting this along with the last shu version I reviewed from them, a 2013 Menghai version, branded as "Cha Dao Si" or "A Tea Master," partly to test that outcome, if they kind of seem similar.  That tea was selling for $35.56 (right, for a 357 gram cake), so $10 more, but a main point in that review was how unusual it seemed that the tea could be such a good value, a smooth, balanced, complex aged version for less than most Western outlets sell brand new versions for.  How will this stack up, related to being a tea presented as a lower priced version (which doesn't clearly imply moderate quality level, but one could read it that way)?

Three years is long enough that I wouldn't expect a lot of fermentation related funkiness out of this.  It being "wild sourced" material is hard to place; I have no clear expectations related to that.  I've tried a lot of teas described as such but not very many shu.  We'll see.

Review:

Menghai 2018 yesheng:  very nice!  There is a touch of funkiness to this too (fermentation related flavor), but I expect that's an early round theme that's going to settle out fast.  It's hard to describe, a bit like wet stored cardboard, but stronger.  I let this brew a little too long in trying not to have to relate how I'd have a clearer impression next round, so now I'm onto interpreting around a slightly too strong round.  So be it.  

Some part of this is really catchy, or the whole set of flavors and feel is.  There's definitely some spice range aspect to this, and what I'm interpreting as dried fruit, and also a molasses sort of sweetness and heavy mineral range.  It might be the molasses that's catchy, the way sweetness, earthiness, mineral, and a bit more tied to that come together.  The fruit seems like elderberry to me; that's cool, and positive.  I'll do a complete flavor list based on a shorter infusion next round, since that will double for dropping out whatever was going to clear up after one or two fast infusions.

Cha Dao Si Menghai 2013 shu:  this suffers in comparison, at least this far along (too early to call, of course).  It's pretty good still, pleasant, decently balanced, with positive nature coming across versus any flaws.  It's just plainer, less distinctive.  Earthiness is in the peat / dark wood / mild coffee range that's not atypical for shu at all.  Sweetness is good; there's even a bit of creaminess to it.  Feel isn't thin, but it could be richer.  A hint towards roasted coffee is nice.  

A lot of what comes across as distinctive, edgy, and more unusual in the other may have faded out in this due to age.  The typical theme is that it should pick up depth to replace it, a range of character that can be harder to notice and appreciate than a strong flavor.  I suppose that might show itself more clearly as flavor range in later rounds.  Along with the distinctive and intense aspects in the first version the edge can include what people could interpret as negative, that storage-related aged cardboard effect I described in the other tea.  Often that comes across as tar or petroleum instead, but regardless of form it's not necessarily a bad thing, if the tea is young and it's going to fade or transition.  Tasting like fish is something else; at best that's going to fade, but it's not a good sign.  Most fermentation related flavor range should drop out within 2 to 3 years of the tea being produced, typically, although any such patterns can vary, and a version might be more "clear" after 5 years or so.

Second infusion:

This should be way different for infusing these for around 10 seconds, although at this high proportion a relative flash infusion could make sense, the 5 or so seconds it takes for pouring water in, a little mixing, and pouring the brewed tea back out.  The second version looks a bit darker; it might be more fermented for having a much longer rest time, for being an older tea version.

2018 Menghai yesheng: it's nice that this kind of challenges the "shu is shu" general position I tend to land on, over and over.  It's still within a relatively narrow character range, compared to how sheng or oolong versions vary, but it's an outlier in terms of being distinctive.  It did clean up a lot; that rough edge related to apparent fermentation taste seems all but dropped out.  Or that could only relate to tea aspects coming across much differently at different infusion strengths; that can happen too.  Astringency in particular varies a lot with infusion strength, that particular aspect range is just not a concern for shu.  

Interpreted one way this hits a narrow note of complex flavor range, since it all integrates quite a bit.  Then it's also quite complex.  It's sort of a paradox, how it comes across as really complex but also as a narrow interrelated range, a little thin in one sense.  One part is mineral; it's "inky." Then there is some fruit, not as clearly elderberry range, but seemingly still berry.  Spice is harder to identify, but part seems to be that, leaning a little towards that set of aromatic incense bark spices.  This should evolve a bit as that set shifts over some rounds; it should be interesting.  Then it's hard to explain how that comes across as a narrow or simple set, in a different sense.  I'll see if I can expand on that as this continues.

2013 Menghai:  this improved, adding a good bit of depth and complexity, even though it's not completely different.  A less distinct earthiness in the last round is more into a dark wood tone now, leaning toward mild coffee.  That breakdown doesn't really do the experience justice; sometimes experiences parse out into concepts better or worse.  It seems to connect with a deeper base of smooth and rich flavor and feel, even though the flavor set is also a bit limited, as in the case of the first.  

Both of these are still evolving into the main character and cycle of infusions, even though faster rounds could have this extraction level at round 3 instead.  It's funny how the first version seemed creamier and fuller in feel than the second in the first round, and that has completely reversed.  That seems more about how both are evolving through an infusion cycle differently than actual character differences.  Aspect progression through an infusion cycle is still under "character," I mean in a narrower sense, that this just took longer to "open up." 

Third infusion:

2018 Menghai yesheng:  it's interesting how much lighter this still is than the other in terms of brewed tea appearance.  That could partly relate to how whole leaf the material is; that will be easier to see once it all completely unfurls, which should be pretty far along now [I never did notice either being very chopped leaf, so that didn't work out as different].  Fermentation level could also affect that, but it would seem odd for that alone to make so much difference.  

This has settled further into a wood tone.  For some that might be very positive, for others relatively negative, depending on preference.  Since it ties to spice range and other complexity I'm taking it as positive, but that's a subjective interpretation.  Berry / fruit doesn't stand out like it had earlier on at all; this is all that dark wood and spice tone.  It's quite clean in effect; there is no mustiness or fermentation funkiness to this at all.

2013 Menghai:  this seems "brewed stronger," although maybe without the color difference I wouldn't have noticed or interpreted the tea character that way.  It hits harder across a broader flavor range, and has a thicker, more intense feel to it, as if it brewed stronger (longer, or I suppose in this case just faster).  This includes more slate mineral as part of the warm tone.  I suppose that could come across as not as clean as the wood and root spice effect, but I'm not interpreting it that way.  It's just different.  

Fourth infusion:

2018 Menghai Yesheng:  again this brews lighter.  One would imagine this is going to translate to a broad difference in later rounds, not necessarily to color, but to brewed tea experience.  I just tend to not take notes for a full cycle, to try out 10 rounds and write about all of them.  It's interesting how a blog like Mattcha's Blog--one of my favorites--writes out a separate flavor list for each infusion, up to at least a dozen. I can't account for not experiencing teas in the same way, as changing anywhere near that much round to round.  Maybe he's more sensitive, maybe he's trying better teas, or maybe expectation leads in that direction, and he's just not repeating what stays the same over and over, focusing on changes instead.

This isn't different than last round, again quite clean, with wood tone and spice standing out.  Not strong flavored and distinct spice, I mean an underlying flavor complexity that I interpret as within spice range.  I wouldn't disagree with someone interpreting cocoa as pronounced in this, or it might be that it's transitioning towards that.

2013 Menghai:  slate mineral is still primary.  That's nice, since I like that.  I suppose someone who hates Liu Bao might not see that as positively, since it's more or less the overlap range with shu and that type.  Of course this lacks every bit of the harsher edge in Liu Bao that haven't been aged for 20 years or so (so it might be a decent replacement for well-aged Liu Bao?).  Maybe not, even though one flavor aspect is comparable; it's pretty obvious this is shu.

Fifth infusion:

I don't really want to tell the story of a full round of transitions, so this might be it.  This round may already include a lot of what there is to say about these version differences, but I can always add a summary form of how the rest went without round by round notes.  I'll get back to giving these over 10 seconds to try a nice strong infusion, more my own preference for shu than the best way to review them.

2018 Menghai yesheng:  the clean nature in this is still quite pleasant.  In a sense that seems to link to the flavor range being more limited, narrower, but it works.  Again that being woody / spice oriented / now towards cocoa someone might interpret in different ways, both as seeing it described in different ways and in relation to match to preference.  Feel and aftertaste both could be more pronounced but both work, distinctive in form and present in enough degree to not be a gap.

2018 Menghai:  again slate mineral stands out most, with other warm and rich tones supporting that.  It's interesting for these being so different.  This comes across as expressing a broader flavor range but I'm not sure it's necessarily more complex, it just spans more range.  I like the slate mineral dominating it.  It would seem possible to interpret that in different ways, and that it would come across a lot stronger for being in contrast with this other version.  It could just seem like the earthy background present in all shu, I mean, versus having that distinct form.  This version has a fuller feel and more depth.

Conclusions:  

Both were really nice; both are an incredible value for how good they are in relation to price.  As for which I liked best even though the older (2013 tasting comparison version) had more complexity, fuller feel, and more depth I really liked the catchy flavor range in this younger and somewhat thinner "wild plant" version.  If someone values shu for brewing a version inky strong and thick, like "shupresso," the second older version might support that effect better.  

These have to be quite comparable to $50-some versions from mainstream US producers; that extra value alone would justify shipping cost from a different part of the world.  Usually there is an order cost cut-off past which shipping is free; I just looked that up on their site and for them it's $130.  Looking that up I also saw their standard delivery cost is $13, and express $35, but essentially every tea group site repeats horror stories about how long slow-boat shipping can take from China or Taiwan. 

I don't intend all that as some sort of hard sell; lots of producers would make pretty decent shu, and to me a lot of factory versions are pretty good.  Sites like Chawang Shop and King Tea Mall would sell a broad range with some age on them for not so much, and Yunnan Sourcing's in-house versions must be ok, or maybe better than just ok, distinctive and refined.  Small batch themes are becoming trendy, and in some cases those can be slightly more distinctive.  Moychay is working on that too, versions produced from Russian tea material, but the experimental young versions I've tried seemed to need more time to settle, so the jury could still be out on how good they'll be in the end, after 3 or 4 years of rest.

These two teas really don't overlap that much in aspect range.  I guess that main finding counters that "shu is shu" theme.  At the same time earthy and mineral range are what they express, without astringency, along with some supporting fruit and spice, and of course there is no bitterness or floral range at all.  They are completely different but comparable in general range.  

I think a lot of the "all shu is the same" theme--which is from my own bias, to be clear, not presented here as a universal perspective--relates to seeing sheng pu'er and oolong, and even black teas to a lesser extent, as varying across a broader range.  It's not as much about any individual tea being that much more complex, although that can come up too.  Sheng picks up an extra dimension for versions being different year to year.  These two shu versions will be similar to this in another decade, I think, just a bit smoother, trading out a little higher end flavor intensity for depth, shifting flavor range just a little.

I doubt this 2018 version is going to evolve much over a few more years but there is an off chance that the lower intensity level, clean flavor range, and light infusion color could relate to this being a little less fermented than is typical, in which case another half dozen years might draw out more complexity.  

There is no way I would buy one cake and hold onto it to check; at most I would buy two and drink through one, using the second to check on that.  Or it can work to only drink a tea a few times a year, and keep tabs on it while leaving half remaining after a decade long aging cycle (drinking 3 x 6 grams x 10 years, half a cake), but for tea in this value range it seems like too much limitation and messing around.  And it's just shu; so what if it gains some extra complexity and depth, it's still going to be similar.  One nice aspect of shu is that you don't need to put extra thought into optimizing storage conditions and aging time input; once it's past a fermentation settling out phase you can just drink it.

2005 Xiaguan wild sheng pu'er

I'm trying the first of a Liquid Proust sheng set, a unique way to experience different teas (with more on that here).  Tasting sets aren't such a novel theme (with more on that here on approaches to exploring sheng, including mention of his options), but Andrew Richardson's take on offering them is different.  And selection process, and set themes, which seems to relate to what he's exploring just then, or what he's happened to run across.

The year, maker, and even that vague "wild" theme add some for expectations.  Xiaguan is familiar; they make strong-flavored, relatively consistent teas, even across a quality range, that often are well suited for 15 years or more of aging.  More is often better, depending on the starting point for different versions.  I've reviewed a half dozen or so examples; not so many, for as big a name as that producer is, but being a complete generalist spreads coverage thin across any sub-theme.  Narrowing exploration down to "sheng" for a few years, as I more or less have, isn't really narrowing it down much at all.


I did look up his description, from the Sheng Olympiad sales page (after making these notes):

~20g 2005 Wild Xiaguan: this was one of the first sheng I really enjoyed and I have finished more cakes of this than anything. It is very unique in the lineup in the fact that it is the only yesheng cake which with a little smoke in the background creates a whiskey like cup.


Odd this review isn't very close to that, and mentions that this tea is really unusual in a couple of other ways.  I did like it too though; I agree about that part.


As appearance goes it looks like this is fairly well fermented for that timing.  In dryer storage conditions 15 years isn't nearly as long as in natural conditions (more medium for humidity, typically, but variable due to seasonal conditions changes) or wet storage instead (intentionally stored in humid conditions, or just held in a place like Malaysia).

It looks like there's a good bit of yellow leaf in this, sold as huang pian when it's sold separately.  Often that is sorted out.  It's what it sounds like, older leaves that have changed color due to dying off, that get caught in the harvest process.  They're not bad, really, lighter and sweeter, with a different overall character, so some added would make the tea seem a little like a sort of blend, a mix of inputs.

Review:

First infusion:  a little odd out of the gate.  It's not musty but close enough to that I'd expect that to be the most typical interpretation.  Fermentation input related to storage has soured the tea slightly (with the obvious condition that anything I say about causes is a bit of a guess), which I expect will "burn off" after another two infusions or so.  It tastes a bit like old leather, like an old saddle smells.  That sounds rough, not as clean, rich, and distinctive as someone would hope for in an aged sheng, and I suppose it isn't completely positive.

Since it's not exactly the "true character" of this tea I'll say a little more about it fading next round and get onto describing that.  Or this is going to be an odd tasting session, describing a tea in a range of earthy flavors I don't get to use very often, talking about cork and different ranges of wild mushrooms.

I might mention that I've been very intrigued by a truly wild sheng from Thailand, that I bought at my favorite local Chinatown shop (Jip Eu), when my friend Ralph was visiting once.  It had a really odd sour character that took a half a year or so to fade out.  Per some discussion with the owner that was made from a mix of local, wild plants harvested in the North of Thailand.

Ralph remembers some discussion of intentionally inoculating the tea with some sort of fungus starter, which I take to be a parallel theme as the "golden flowers" idea, that it's often added to hei cha versions (although it can also occur naturally).

Fu brick with golden flowers, grabbed from an online friend's FB page who sells that, Sophia Yang

I have no clear memory of Kittichai saying anything about that, but I'm sure that he did, if Ralph caught it.  What he meant could've spanned a broad range, since a lot gets lost in translation in talking to him.  If you are there in the shop and take your time talking through a point a bit further that clears up, but comments mentioned in passing can seem unclear.

At any rate that tea was oddly sour for a long time, then it switched to a sweeter, floral range, and after that it seemed to circle back to include a lot of forest-floor range.  I mean like slightly damp piled leaves; no sort of moss theme, or mountain spring range.  It tasted a lot more like a swept fall lawn than tea almost ever does.  That was with a bit of dampness input to those, but not much, not the crisp, dry aromatic range of bone-dry leaves, but nothing like cleaning out rain gutters, leaves that really have wet-fermented.

A bit of this flavor is just "tastes like Xiaguan;" I'll get back to what I mean by that.

Second infusion:  cleaning up nicely!  The harshest, mustiest of that range is all but cleared out, with a cleaner old-leather version remaining, onto tasting more like a bomber jacket, or brand new cowboy boots.  The sourness changed form to a bit of tangy range.  If this keeps shifting in the same direction that could move all the way to a really warm citrus aspect, I just don't think it will, it will probably make a turn and change to something else.

This really tastes like Xiaguan now.  It's hard to say how, what that even means.  There's probably some agreed-upon set of descriptions that has emerged over people trying to describe that for the past 20 years that really pins it down.  Adding more of my own descriptions is only going to go so far; it's like leather, or well-cured hay, with a bit of warm mineral range filling that in, like the scent of a rusted iron bar.  Some of the clean peat effect could seem similar to Scotch.

Fermentation level is pretty far along, in one sense, and not very far along at all for the age in another.  It doesn't look as reddish as it might (it's far from finished) but the tones are good and warm, and there is no bitterness or astringency edge left at all.  At a guess that apparent mild contradiction is because it didn't start out as edgy as a lot of Xiaguan (undrinkable, if one must), so basing a fermentation level mostly on what has already dropped out gets you to the wrong conclusion, because it could easily assume what was never there was present.

That "wild Thai sheng" had some astringency, just not much for being on the order of half this old, or maybe slightly younger.  It never did start out like a typical Xiaguan tuo, or a Dayi 7542; much softer than those.  And a bit odd, as this probably always was, but I personally like that, the uniqueness, and the aspect range this covers.  Or will cover; if it stayed exactly like this round maybe not so much.

Third infusion:  this pattern is quite familiar; this is right where that Thai tea was at one point.  It's in between tangy and sour, with a vague floral range picking up, with a lot more forest-floor showing through.  It's really complex; that flavor list could just keep going, and I'd expect interpretations to vary a lot.  The leather effect is dropping back, but that earthy-vegetal range is in between dry dead leaves, fermenting damp leaves, and cured leather.  I'd expect more people to dislike this than to love it, since it's in such a novel range.  Or maybe it's just that someone open to novel range might love this, and anyone looking for a type-typical mostly aged sheng range could be disappointed, or even put off.

Given experience with similar character in that Thai tea I'll have to modify expectations of how this is going to transition across later rounds.  It will shift, and improve, but I think it will stay weird.  It's interesting considering if maybe I didn't miss a lot of yellow leaf (huang pian) material input in that Thai sheng, accounting for why it is sweet and mild, and also a little odd, although that's surely based on different inputs.  I really like that Thai tea; maybe I didn't mention that.  Not so much for experienced aspects only, for appreciating the parts of what is there to experience, but for it pushing so far into a novel range.  Without "seeing" this Xiaguan version age over a year there's a lot less to experience, how this is going to go, I'll just get the sample-snapshot effect.

Fourth infusion:  this is through the initial phase, and in a decent, interesting place.  A lot is going on to balance:  some floral, heavier autumn leaf / cured leather range, a bit of cured wood, and subtle warm, underlying mineral tones.  It's cleaner and lighter than that description list makes it sound.  There's a creamy aspect that picks up; that part is hard to place, given the other context.

When someone says a buttery or milky oolong seems creamy of course that makes sense, but this isn't covering a range where it seems as naturally linked.  It's almost as if part of that earthy, complex, ever so slightly--at this point--range could be interpreted as close to havarti cheese (which is mild and sweet; people might see it as nutty but it's more just hard to explain), and it links with that.


Fifth infusion:  transition pace is slowing; it's closer to the last round than for any other infusion.  To me this works, it balances.  That laundry list of flavor inputs wouldn't be seen as a naturally balanced set to everyone; it probably helps having drank a lot of strange teas, some of which didn't work, to push that experience boundary out a bit.  This doesn't seem normal to me, in the sense of it being type-typical of any range, but it's definitely familiar ground.

The level of sweetness helps make it work; that's a common theme, and one that's easy to not repeat in every review.  It makes the floral and lighter other range come across differently; drop out the sweetness and it would all make a lot less sense.  The same is true of it being quite clean in effect, and pleasant in feel, a bit creamy, versus sheng often just developing richness of feel.

Sixth infusion:  warm, sweet autumn tones pick up.  This might keep going and settle into a nice spice range before it leaves off; I don't think it's close to finished yet.  The last flavor list still applies, but most of that has dropped way into the background, with a sweeter, dry-leaf tone picking way up.  Interpreted in one way this might even taste a bit like fruit now, along the lines of dried tamarind.

It's funny how far off this is from what I take to be normal Xiaguan range.  The intensity wasn't there, and it never could've started with that same roughness and edge, for being this approachable at this level of fermentation.  Some flavor range was common but this late shift doesn't remind me of any Xiaguan I've yet to try.  Then again out between 15 and 20 years rough edges would give way to lots of different flavor and other range, and I've not tried much relatively fully aged Xiaguan, more of what was just getting on towards that, but still more like halfway through the process.


Seventh infusion:  lightening a little, but I think I'll let this review go just to take it easy.  It was a rough week at work and my wife rattled off an unrealistic list of things to do to help her before she went out to check on school uniforms.  I told her which parts I would do and which I would skip and that didn't go over so well, but probably better for her thinking that was joking.

This tea is nice.  Odd, but I like this range.  It was really interesting owning a cake of a tea that's so close to this, given how unusual the character range is.

It will be interesting covering the other samples in this set, some pretty interesting looking aged sheng.

Additional conclusions:

I didn't address Andrew's description in this, because I read it later.  He said (cited earlier):  the only yesheng cake which with a little smoke in the background creates a whiskey like cup.

I didn't mention smoke or whiskey; interpretations do tend to vary.  And I'd expect this type of tea to shift a good bit over a couple of years, that it's fairly far along for fermentation but nearing a leveling off point, but not there yet.   Some of the description I did include of underlying warm mineral tones and aged leather wasn't so far from a "smoke" interpretation.


More interesting to me, later that day I had a headache, which seemed to relate to not ingesting much caffeine.  At first determining the cause for a headache isn't simple, and drinking a half liter of water often clears up one caused by dehydration.  The caffeine-withdrawal headache is a unique version though, probably a bit too familiar to many tea enthusiasts.  I hadn't drank that much dry tea quantity in trying this, and old-leaves would probably have a much lower caffeine content naturally (based on the well-known idea that buds and young leaves contain the most).  All the same I'm quite familiar with my normal reaction to drinking only one round of tea.  Taking a long nap and sleeping early yesterday reinforced that likelihood.

Where am I going with this?  When trying that Thai "wild sheng" a number of times I kept wondering if the plant type wasn't atypical in some way.  It was really wild-collected tea, on the far extreme of natural growth versions.  Flavor was the main input that had me guess about that; the character just didn't match any other tea I'd ever tried, although this now serves as a single exception.  I mean I think it probably was still "tea," camellia sinensis, but it might have been a slightly evolved variety.  It could've been similar to the cases of variety Formosa, Cambod, or Taliensis (or is Taliensis a different species instead?).

a table of some cultivars (plant types) from a source I keep citing

The rambling speculation cuts off there; I have no more background or conjecture to offer.  At a minimum the two tea versions were really interesting in a common way.  The Thai version has changed a lot over the last year; this Xiaguan may have similar potential, to finish off fermentation process by shifting more.  That Thai tea wasn't as old though, 8 years old now, so changing more would've seemed natural in light of that factor.

this family member never gets mentioned here, Sai Tong, our other cat

he sketched Kalani and the cat