Visiting a Bangkok Chinatown shop

 

Kittichai and Gerda

I've written this basic post a number of times, about visiting my favorite Bangkok Chinatown shop, Jip Eu (on FB here), so next it comes up how to vary that, or why to write at all.

I recently visited to meet an online tea contact, Gerda, who wanted to explore local tea options, which is the main repeating theme.  I've met some of my best tea friends under exactly these circumstances, most notably Huyen, Suzana, and Ralph, that covid-era online social group.  It's always nice having an excuse to do an extra shop visit, and I'm always considering buying tea to give to local monk friends anyway, since they can't go out shopping on their own, due to a restriction against that.

I'll cover how this visit went related to someone being new to tea learning about types, exactly what happened.  That will naturally overlap with concerns about why it could be difficult exploring teas in this way, especially related to visiting Chinatown shops, which are a singularly good resource for tea enthusiasts, but there can be problems to work around using such a source.

It was interesting seeing that visit posted as a Tik Tok edited video, here, showing that shop, the owner Kittichai, and I'm briefly in it.

That visit background

That new tea friend is another American also living in Bangkok; we met through mention of potential for meetups (tastings, as intended) in a local Facebook tea page I started awhile back.  I might clarify that I'm living between Bangkok and Honolulu these days, since we moved to Honolulu so my son, who is now in high school, could experience that education system.  I'm still based in Bangkok for work, and my company very generously let me work remotely for over 4 of the last 10 months.

That visit started with asking her about her favorite tea type, which is rolled oolong, along the line of Tie Guan Yin, so that's what we tried first.  The owner, Kittichai, who feels a bit like an extra uncle here (which I have a few of, between Bangkok and Oahu, a real blessing) started showing us a more roasted version, and based on her preference we switched to a greener version.

blending modest quality Shui Xian at that shop

I was familiar with Kittichai having family in both Anxi (in Fujian where TGY is produced) and in Wuyishan (where "rock oolong" comes from), but had lost track of him having a brother in both areas, both of whom make and sell tea.  So nice!  That doesn't necessarily mean that everything he presented from those areas is exactly what it's described as, but it bumps the likelihood quite a bit.  I take everything I hear related to tea as a generality that's either very likely or unlikely to be true, or indeterminate, not that I have a suspicious nature, but most sheng pu'er sold is described as gushu (old plant material), growing under natural conditions, and a lot probably isn't that, and definitive sorting is problematic.

The Tie Guan Yin was good.  Good is all relative; to me the best versions of that type are sweet and floral, perhaps with some vegetal base tones, clean in effect, with good intensity, good mouthfeel, and some aftertaste carry-over. It was like that, positive and pleasant.  Then saying all that reminds me of a discussion recently when use of pesticides and chemical fertilizers came up, with that discussion participant claiming that the valued typical character of much Taiwanese rolled oolong, which are like that, with pronounced mineral tone base added, comes in part from use of lots of chemicals.  

How to place that?  Any gardener knows that if you bump nitrogen and other inputs, maybe even including the plant equivalent of steroids, compounds that trigger growth, and pesticide protection for the plants, you can max out plant growth and robust produced fruit or flower character, but all at a cost.  One cost is that you're consuming at least some of the residual traces of that.  Since all of this is a tangent here lets get back to what we experienced that day in that shop.

Next we tried a Rou Gui presented as from within that park area in Wuyishan.  If it is that it's definitely an organic tea (per my understanding, which is always limited to some extent), because inputs of what can be brought in that area are controlled through checkpoints.  What are the odds that the tea wasn't what it was described as?  Impossible to judge.  Authenticity is much higher given the background context, that sourcing occurred in connection with well-connected and trusted locals there, but again I tend to take it all as probabilities, and not sweat the uncertainty.

one is Kittichai's brother, pictured on elaborate packaging he showed us

Rou Gui brings up an unusual "trueness to type" issue because it's a translation of cinnamon, and versions tend to taste like cinnamon, but not all do.  Some can be absolutely amazing while tasting nothing like cinnamon; apparently a set of inputs including plant type genetics and growing inputs can bring out citrus or even peach notes.  This tasted a good bit like cinnamon, which of course is also nice.  Roast was moderate; often very high roast can ruin such teas, although that should be an input relating to error, or an intentional step used to mask flaws.  Or some people prefer heavily roasted tea versions, of course.

High quality Wuyi Yancha versions can be made in a range of different styles, and this was in that range.  It's tempting to point out which I see as most traditional, since hearsay input would link to such claims, but who knows if that even makes sense.  50 to 100 years ago there was probably a good bit of variation in styles, so claiming one style was quite universally regarded as optimum in an earlier golden age probably doesn't work.  Or maybe the opposite is true, but it may be impossible to find great sources to settle this point for you, even there "on the ground" in China in that area.  Beyond only mostly believing stories about production inputs I tend to focus more on the experience of teas than stories about history or version changes over time.

Kittichai wasn't telling such stories anyway; he was describing character related to how good versions tend to be, back more on starting points, because that was relevant for that audience, for someone who needed to become clearer on what rock oolong and Rou Gui are first.  We talked a little about an aging issue as an exception, with me explaining to her that my preference related to this style is that there would be no point in aging it, since freshness, quality, and pleasantness all came across well just then, which Kittichai agreed with.  It was interesting how with him also minding the store a bit (his wife was missing that day; kind of a shame) he said the same thing separately, a few minutes later.

Kittichai really does know teas, in a sense better than me.  I can't make tea, produce it from fresh leaves, and he can, and has.  That brings up an odd point we discussed; he described these teas as hand-made.  Per lots of discussion with another tea friend in Wuyishan (Cindy Chen, of Wuyi Origin) it's just not practical for people to be making very high quality tea completely by hand, because it takes too much work input, so it really comes down to using different kinds of machines for different volumes of tea production.  For some artisan out there making a few kgs a year of some special version maybe, but it's harder to imagine someone replicating that tight ball shape for Tie Guan Yin.

I never did describe that Rou Gui.  The other TGY description was general enough it works, just swapping out some flavor description:  it was pleasant related to lacking flaws, having a decent full feel, with a nice mineral base, good intensity, and pronounced aftertaste.  For flavors some cinnamon joined other earthier range, not heavy at all related to roast level being a moderate input.  Pronounced aftertaste and structured feel really stood out.  I described how a mineral range not completely unlike how some pen ink smells can work as a quality level marker, and that was included.  Flavor intensity wasn't full-blast, but aftertaste experience really lingered, all of which works.

The nicest part of getting tea in that shop is that there's an uncountable range of variation in there, maybe too much, since finding exactly what you want might be easier from a list of 25 or 30 versions, versus hundreds of types being stashed away.  Kittichai showed us a novel bud and fine leaf version from Fuding (also Fujian), which looked great, a lot like good Bai Mu Dan or Nepal white versions, but we didn't try it.  Someone just walking into that shop might not ever hear about that white tea version, or end up trying the two teas we did, or learn that there's plenty of aged sheng pu'er in there as well (it's not their specialty, but it's a good place to buy an old Xiaguan, Dayi, or CNNP cake, or even better versions, just from a limited selection).  They tend to ask guests what types they are interested in, and that's what they would hear about, and perhaps try some of, and maybe only that.

To keep the visit description moving at the end I bought some inexpensive Shui Xian oolong for the monks I often visit, and she bought some of the TGY.  It's a good place to buy inexpensive jasmine green tea too, to add another recommendation to that.  

Kittichai gave us samples of a Fujian white tea and a Rou Gui, which he said wasn't as good as the other we tried, but is pleasant.  That's too much, really, for a vendor to share samples when your purchase is so limited, and you've been tasting top shelf teas there, but that's how it goes visiting a vendor who feels like visiting an uncle.  Sometimes I bring him tea too, I just didn't that day.  He mostly only likes the conventional Chinese style range, extending out to appreciating sheng pu'er, so bringing him Thai sheng versions that don't completely match, or Assam or Darjeeling or whatever, he can appreciate as novel but they're not what he likes.  Fair enough.

Walking back to the MRT station we passed another local well-regarded tea shop, K. Mui Tea, not more than a long block away from Jip Eu.  I pointed out the tea stuffed oranges that many people find interesting, and she bought a white tea version, and I bought two shu pu'er versions for monks (I've got tea to drink; I might buy a cake to set aside once in awhile but I don't tend to buy 100 grams of this or that for me). 

That shop owner greeted us (warmly; I'm sure that he's a good guy, from that and prior contact), and we tasted a shu version and some Mi Lan Xiang Dan Cong, even though we were mostly just passing by.  The Dan Cong was pretty good for the price range, the rare type-typical, slightly above average range quality selling at good value that doesn't always come up for Dan Cong.  The shu was good for an aged, medium quality version, a 2006 tea that I remember selling for $40 or so per cake pricing.  You don't get best of the best of anything for that modest pricing, but pretty good shu can be nice, and good value, and that's what it seemed to be.  I mentioned to my companion that it's regarded as the gentlest for your stomach, aged shu pu'er.

that is about $40

different stuffed citrus and pu'er dragonballs (shown) are good for a quick impulse buy

And that was the outing, quite pleasant, with a lot of ground covered in a short span of time.  Randomly visiting Chinatown shops can actually be unpleasant instead, at times relating to not getting much attention from vendors, or not tasting above average tea versions selling for low prices.  What you might try in a visit can be random, depending on what you communicate, and how a shop owner interprets that.  What we tried in Jip Eu was at fair pricing; it was more a concern that neither of us was really in the market for buying much volume of above average quality tea.  

The better Wuyi Yancha in Jip Eu has tended to sell for 1000 to 1500 baht per 100 grams in the past, $30 if it's just good tea, and $45 if a background condition relates to rarity and higher demand, as with that Rou Gui version, described as from within the natural park area there.  It's awkward comparing that to how inexpensive what I bought was; their main market is for selling low priced related oolong versions for very little, more like $3 per 100 grams.  It would take a lot of sales volume to keep a shop open, selling teas like that, and shop overhead in the US or UK would prevent it from being possible at all, even with moderate better income stream from the other better teas.

at a recent religious event at Wat Pho

visiting there with a family friend from China exactly 4 years ago

visiting with that girl this past weekend, a bit grown up now