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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

that second one is a little light, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Conclusions

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

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

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

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

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

Vietnamese Assamica based oolongs, reviewed here

Mi Lan Xiang and old bush Wuyishan black / red teas

 

I'm reviewing two teas from Moychay, provided by them for review (in part related to helping with editing, but still, many thanks!).  

I've been using their samples (they sent a good bit) as comparison for other "local" South East Asian teas, but it will be nice to just compare two of them instead.  All the other versions were good.  There were some issues related to them matching the standard type form perfectly, to trueness to type.  When a tea is made from wild origin material that seems to automatically come up; the starting point in the material itself varies (at least one of them was, and maybe two).  This concern led me to write about that theme separately, about trueness to type, in another post.

For a market-style vendor like that buying in significant volume and selling at moderate pricing could also be issues.  Of course I'm not going to overthink any of that here; I'll just describe the teas.  I'll add their product descriptions after writing the tasting notes.

Before that, the type-typical theme largely drops out here.  I would've had comparable teas before, but I still come in without the pre-determined expectations of a main set type.  It might come down to whether or not these express tartness, which I really don't care for in black teas, typically.

Honey Orchid Black Tea (105 Euro or $121 USD for 50 grams; that seems wrong, doesn't it?)

Grown in the highlands of Meizhou, Guangdong at 800 meters above sea level, this black tea comes from old bush tea gardens using the Phoenix Dancong cultivar. The gardens are free from pesticides and chemical fertilizers, relying instead on natural forest humus and ecological pest control. The Phoenix cultivar naturally carries the honey–orchid aromatic profile that gives this tea its name.

The tea is handpicked as one bud with two leaves during the early spring, when the tea plants have accumulated nutrients throughout the winter. The fresh leaves are processed using traditional black tea techniques. After natural sun withering and indoor resting, the leaves are gently rolled in bamboo machines, fermented in a high-humidity room until the signature honeyed aroma emerges, and slowly baked over wood fire to lock in flavor and aroma.

The dry leaves are wiry and dark with golden tips. The brewed liquor is clear and orange-red, with a rich honey fragrance and soft orchid notes. The taste is smooth, sweet, and lingering, combining depth and elegance.

Over $2 a gram for black tea?  That seems wrong.  50 to 80 cents should be the normal high end range, and any vendor charging over $1 / gram is usually messing with you.  If a tea type is rare enough and demand is high enough then the cost would climb, with no real ceiling on that, but a black tea couldn't be good enough for me to see that as decent value for anything.  It was pretty good, but there is no pretty good value related to that pricing.

I can clarify what I mean by that by citing a comparable listing from another favorite vendor, from Wuyi Origin (a business ran by a family who I'm friends with a member of, Cindy, to be clear about potential bias):

Wuyi Origin Mi Lan Xiang Black Tea 蜜兰香红茶 (2026)  ($17.60 for 50 grams, so 35 cents a gram)

Mi Lan Xiang, or “Honey Orchid Fragrance,” is one of the most celebrated cultivars of Phoenix Dan Cong. While most Mi Lan Xiang teas are crafted as oolongs, this unique version is processed as a black tea, combining the fragrance of Dan Cong with the richness of Wuyi-style fermentation. The result is a rare and elegant expression that blends the sweetness of Phoenix Mountain with the smooth body of Fujian black tea.

This 2025 harvest comes from Daping Village, where the 40-year-old Mi Lan Xiang bushes grow naturally in clean, high-altitude gardens. The leaves are fully fermented on-site to preserve the honeyed aroma and smooth mouthfeel. The liquor is rich, mellow, and entirely free of bitterness. As soon as it is brewed, a soft sweetness fills the air, reminiscent of warm honey and ripe fruit. It is a tea that soothes and delights in equal measure.

Comparing a highly atypical, high quality producer direct source is a little unfair.  These types of sources barely even exist, as Western facing outlets, but when one does it has a competitive advantage, for selling their own unique teas without any middleman resale costs.  But this is the right range, just on the low side of cost, for what that tea would be.  Normal vendors would sell it for 50 cents a gram or more, instead of 35.  Just as a guess, for as good as I expct that it probably is more than 50 cents per gram pricing would still be normal.

Maybe within Europe it's a problem to buy directly from China, in lots of places.  There are import duties to be considered, and testing protocols for imported goods.  This citation is not offered here as a competing option, more to identify the normal pricing range.  It probably is a fairly similar tea, but then one would have to try both to compare them.

Black Tea LAO CONG HONG CHA, Old Bush Red Tea from Wuyi Mountains, Chinese tea from Wuyi, Fujian Province (Red Tea), 60g (12 Euro or $14 for 60 grams)

Old Bush Red Tea is produced from 40-year-old Meizhan and Shuixian tea bushes in the southern foothills of the Wuyi Mountains, Fujian Province. The tea is cultivated at an altitude of 500 meters in from 2006 year certified sustainable agriculture tea gardens that are part of a 4000-acre estate managed by the producer.

Harvested in April and May, this tea is hand-picked, focusing on two or three leaves per sprout. The leaves undergo a traditional black tea processing method, including withering, oxidation, rolling, fermentation, drying, and refinement. The result is a tea with tightly rolled leaves and a robust appearance.

When brewed, this tea yields a bright red liquor with a sweet and mellow flavor, characterized by notes of caramel and a rich, full-bodied texture. The unique processing reduces polyphenols by over 90%, creating the distinctive red hue and smooth taste associated with black tea.

This costs just over 10% as much as the other version.  Could that first version pricing be a site listing error?

The first version seems better in quality level (related to trying them before adding this section), and Dan Cong material is in pretty high demand, but that pricing still seems wrong.  At 50 cents a gram it would be a costly tea, and at $1 / gram at the top of the high side, for the normal range.

Review:

Mi Lan Xiang Hong Cha / Honey Orchid Black Tea:  a little tart.  This tea is still fine, very exceptional.  Floral range is unique, heavy and distinctive, but also clean and refined (at only the first infusion).  Maybe that does taste like honey orchid; it's hard for me to tell, even though I've drank a lot of Mi Lan Xiang Dan Cong.  The tone is warm, so it leans a bit towards lavender.  

A fruit input is really exceptional.  It's not far off peach, which does come up a good bit in Mi Lan Xiang Dan Cong, but it might also have a citrus edge.  It could be broader than peach, including a bit of apricot as well (or maybe it's more apricot, with a touch of peach).

Feel is good, balance is nice, and refinement is a strength.

Lao Cong Hong Cha Wuyishan / Old Bush Red Tea:  not as intense, but this seems to express more depth.  It includes cacao; that's nice.  And more of the roasted yam / sweet potato / butternut squash range.  I'll try more of a flavor list next round; these flavors integrate, so it's hard to separate them apart.

This seems to be framed along the classic more forward, sweeter, lighter flavor aspects (the first) and a version including warmer tones, more mineral, and lots of depth (this tea).  The first includes a touch of tartness, which means more to me than it probably does to most people.  

In general I might like the second more, since Dian Hong is my favorite type (or rather it's the other way around; Dian Hong is my favorite type because I love the experience of depth and certain forms of complexity in black tea).  But it's not as good, in at least one other sense.  This Wuyishan version includes a limited enough forward flash of flavor and sweetness that it might seem like a gap, at this stage.  But then this is only the first infusion.  And it stands out a lot more for it being brewed alongside a tea that emphasizes that initial floral hit.

MLX #2:  this falls into a great balance.  All of the tones warm a good bit, and tartness backs off.  The intense floral range moderates a bit, but there's still plenty there.  It's not easier to separate the flavors into a list this way, but the complexity balances well.  It still includes warm floral tones, which probably does include rich orchid flavor, and fruit, now emphasizing a warm mineral base more.

One bright tone stands apart from the rest, and gives it a nice counterbalance.  It's like that juicyfruit gum flavor, or not too far from teaberry.  Or given this context one could interpret that as floral range instead of fruit, even though I've done the opposite here.  

Feel is good.  It includes a hint of dryness along with the structure, but that doesn't come across as a flaw, in the type and level, along with the rest.  It just has an astringency structure, which works.  It's still a soft and rich tea, nothing like a more challenging version of Assam, even within the better orthodox whole leaf range.

Wuyishan:  this is softer and richer, with more depth.  Again the flavor range seems to express a gap; there is a lot of warmer, deeper tone, and some more forward flavor (cacao?), but it's not continuous along the entire range in between.  One could interpret part of this as tasting like soft and warm malt (ovaltine or malted milk ball, not Assam malt).  Something along the line of roasted sweet potato fills in flavor depth.  But in between that initial flavor hit and the depth that comes later there is a short pause in the experience.

Brewing this stronger would offset that effect.  I've brewed these for 15 seconds or so, not long.  Intensity is still pretty good (they're brewing at 7 grams per 100 ml gaiwan), but I expect the profile would seem to "fill in" at a higher intensity, for this version.  The other was already intense enough.

Someone more critical of this tea's character might say it tastes like cardboard.  That's partly right, but it's an effect coming from heavier mineral and limited somewhat earthy tone.  I would imagine that positive or negative bias would have one "seeing" either the better parts that work well or else what might come across as gaps or flaws.  I try to see it as it is.

It's a bit strange but I tried mixing the last of both, to see how it would merge and blend.  In a limited sense it is better than either version, but it's also less distinctive and interesting, so in another sense both lose what makes them work.  

MLX #3:  I gave these just over 20 seconds this round, to see how that changes them.  This version had been intense using a shorter time, so it may be a little strong.  

It is.  That works though; the pronounced warm floral tones really pop, supported by pleasant fruit.  I think this is just what someone would be looking for in a Mi Lan Xiang black tea version.  Even that touch of early tartness is normal, as I recall from other versions.  Depth is really nice in this, the way warm mineral tones fill that in.  Flavor complexity and refinement are exceptional.  Some might not love that touch of structure and dryness in this version, but for others that could be a main strength.

Sweetness is a main positive, obviously.  I've not explicitly said that, and just describing sweetness related flavors doesn't necessarily connect with that, even though it does here.

Wuyishan:  this is better for being brewed stronger, more appropriate for this tea version.  A hint of cinnamon joins the rest, filling in a nicely complex flavor balance.  The rest has transitioned.  A touch of cacao grounds the rest, and there is still roasted yam and limited dried fruit input in this (or maybe it has evolved to where those stand out now, and there were only related flavors in the first two rounds, nothing identical).  

Simply brewing this a little stronger did seem to resolve an overall balance / range gap described earlier.  Or the evolution across rounds did; it would be hard to be sure.  

That seems like enough for notes.  These will shift a little more across two more positive infusions, and you could stretch them for two more beyond that.  I would probably mention another flavor aspect for both, or a different balance of what came earlier.  But the basic story has been told. 

Later editing note:  a liqueur or perfume like character stands out in the Mi Lan Xiang version, a good indicator of tea quality, and something that's pleasant to experience.

I really liked both.  The style of the second (Wuyishan origin tea) suits my main preference better, but the strengths of the Mi Lan Xiang version really stood out.  It would be normal for people to judge it as a better quality tea version.  But really their character just varies, looked at another way.  The Wuyishan version got a slow start related to brewing a full flavor range complex character, but that was just an early round anomaly, and could have related to it working better being brewed slightly stronger.

The only anomaly or concern here is the $2+ per gram pricing of the Mi Lan Xiang version.  That's a lot; probably too much.

Comparison of Fu zhuan versions, 2010 and 2020

 

2010 "Genshe" version left, Fengqing right, in all photos

I'm re-reviewing two Fu zhuan style hei cha from Oriental Leaf.  The idea was that one brick version seemed higher in quality level to me, but I wanted to check that, and identify character differences. 

I thought that it would be similar but better than the cake version, more complex and intense, with more depth. Really these were completely different styles of the same tea type. It's interesting that I had missed that. I could be more familiar with Fu hei cha range, even though I've tried a good bit of it.  You really need to drink the teas a number of times, comparing impressions over time, and I've not done that yet.

One was from here, Oriental Leaf Fu zhuan hei cha comparison, Lincang and Fengqing versions (the Fengqing one), and from here, Oriental Leaf Jinyang Genshe 2010 Fu brick tea.  I won't reference their background here; it's in those posts, including more descriptions, a site link, and costs for these.  The brick tea costs more, if that helps in fill in some relevant background.

On a different subject, a tea group comment mentioned that it's not most favorable to brew Fu zhuan hei cha Gongfu style. I could check on that. I did review two of essentially the same cake versions brewed Western style a year or more ago, thinking that would work as well. 

Even for drinking a good bit of those teas made in different ways it's hard to weigh in with a developed take. It also seems lazy to just say that it's a matter of preference. I think that you could get good results both ways, and using other approaches, which comes back to it relating to preference. 

I'll get back to themes about style differences in the conclusions section. 

Review:

2010 "Genshe" Jinyang Fu zhuan (an actual brick):  there's an interesting fresh bread / yeast / spice note, and the depth and feel are pleasant already.  I think this will evolve quite a bit when fully wetted, so I'll do more flavor list next round.  That spice note is particularly interesting, quite complex, with parts seeming to resemble different spices, along the line of clove and ginger.

2020 Fengqing cake:  warmer and richer.  A heavier dark bread note is very pronounced.  This visibly had a lot more golden flower fungus, and that should be coming across as well, even right away.  At this stage it's a little more intense than the other version, and probably slightly more complex as well.  That may relate to it starting out faster, to more fungus providing flavor input versus the leaf, which is not fully soaked yet.  

Both are quite pleasant.  I had remembered the 2010 version as having more depth, but we will see.  So far this is pretty even.

2010 brick #2:  that spice aspect range is unique.  To me it's close to clove, or one part of clove, and an incense spice, maybe sandalwood.  Really I need to brush up on my incense spice scents to do much with describing them.

Depth is unique as well.  Feel is thick and rich, and mineral range fills in complexity.  It's unusually good.

2020 cake:  just different.  There are some warmer tones present in this, that people could interpret in different ways.  The sweetness links to a dark toffee.  Bread-like or yeast related input has balanced with the rest already, but it is in a pronounced dark tone range, like a very dark rye, on towards pumpernickel.  

Drinking one right after the other reveals an interesting character difference.  This version is more complex and intense, and covers a lot of flavor range.  The other is intense while you drink it, but less so, with more finish or aftertaste coming across (or equivalent to the other; I mean the aftertaste is strong in comparison with the upper-medium level intensity while you drink it, with this version dialed up across both ranges).  

The 2010 version has an edge for expressing a really unique and complex spice range, but this is just as good for the rest, for overall complexity, intensity, and refinement.  I kind of expected the 2010 tea to stand out more.  But then they're just different; someone might absolutely love either one, but not the other, or I guess could not prefer this kind of tea.  But then these are really pleasant and approachable.  There's a reason why reactions to this same 2020 version has always been favorable in group tastings.

2010 #3:  there's a clean nature to this tea that's hard to describe.  It's well-fermented, and the range of flavors expressed is more on the heavy side, just lighter than the other.  But it's not off in any way, related to mustiness, or off earth or rougher mineral input.  It's all light, clean, and balanced, while still being relatively rich.  

The spice range is a main theme, but it's hard to narrow further.  It's complex, including both incense spice range and one part of what clove expresses.  Some dried fruit range reminds me most of Chinese date.  I suppose some other flavor relates to cooked pumpkin, or someone could interpret that as butternut squash.  We eat Thai and Japanese pumpkin here, which are closer to butternut squash than the orange skinned US version.  

2020:  spice range changes in this, and the bread-like tone also does.  It's good, pleasant and complex.  One could write out a good bit of flavor description aspects for this, depending on interpretation, and it's shifting some round to round, so that could keep changing.  

It's tempting to say that it includes more forward flavors, with less depth than the other, but really it just comes across differently.  A lot does hit you at first, including a touch of sourness that seems to tie to the yeast effect in the fresh bread range.   The aftertaste may be a little less pronounced, but that could also just relate to the forward flavor being stronger in comparison for this tea.  Feel and flavor aftertaste really extend after you drink it, covering the entire rear of your mouth.

There is more complexity than the flavor list I'm describing, but it's hard to pin down.  Some dried fruit or roasted vegetable could be similar to the other, but different.  The heavier dark bread flavor, and supporting warm mineral, really stand out.  It might include a touch of cacao.

2010 #4:  this comes across as really refined, compared to most Fu zhuan hei cha.  It's not as if the other suffers from expressing a lot of rough edges, or flavors that seem like flaws, but this is clean and rich in a unique way.  And lighter; spice is warm, and mineral gives it depth, but it lacks the heavy flavor range and rich intensity in the other.  The color is lighter too.  It's almost as if this resembles an aged sheng more, related to comparison to sheng and shou pu'er, with it having more depth and complexity to evolve towards for not being fully fermented yet.  Or maybe that's wrong, and in 10 more years it will be almost exactly the same.

That refinement is a strange thing, in Fu hei cha.  It's intense, complex, and layered, but also very clean.

2020:  fruit tones seem to pick up a bit in the other.  It's pleasant how it keeps evolving.  The other shifts a little, but more to let deeper mineral and spice tones play a larger role.  This is actually changing flavor.  It might be a little more complex; there is plenty going on.  To me that touch of yeast works well with the rest, but that might be a main dividing line in how others take this.  It's a distinctive part of Fu character, but not everyone would love it.

This is clean too, but in a different sense.  It's heavier in tone, with lots of complexity, and the dark bread and yeast effect gives it all the more range.

I really thought that this comparison would favor the 2010 version more than it does.  I can see why I was so impressed by it, for that spice range being so novel, and for the overall effect being so clean and balanced.  But this 2020 version expressing more intensity and complexity is positive.

Fifth infusion:  the 2020 version starts to lose some intensity, but the 2010 doesn't, yet.  I brewed this on the quick side (15 seconds or so); it would make sense to use longer infusions at this stage.  The 2020 version picks up a molasses sweetness, resembling that complex flavor range in molasses.  I can't really tell if the spice range in the 2010 version is changing; it seems similar.  

Conclusions

Does it work to summarize that the brick version was less pre-fermented, and closer to sheng pu'er (comparatively), so that people who love aged sheng pu'er would like that better, and shou drinkers would like the other more? Not really. There is some comparison to be made, but these aren't pu'er. The pre-fermentation level part probably does work, but the mapping across types preference may or may not. 

Can we guess that the less pre-fermented tea probably has more potential to keep changing, to pick up more intensity and depth over the next decade? Sure, it's a reasonable guess, but I don't know for sure if that works. 

Both teas are great in different ways. I was so impressed with the brick version that I thought that it would seem simply better in comparison, but it's just different. It's lighter in range, with a different flavor profile, and different feel. I would probably have to keep drinking these to be sure of which I like more. 

The brick version (2010 Genshe) is more refined, and some might judge quality level to be higher, as I had. That possible extra aging potential would be meaningful, to many people. But it's not simply better across most aspect dimensions.  Plenty of people would like the Fengqing version more, especially if they value the heaviness, fullness, warm tone, and complexity in very good quality shou pu'er.  But again it's not pu'er, it's different than that.