Saturday, August 22, 2026

Moychay Yiwu sheng pu'er comparison

 

Cloud Aroma Yiwu left, in all photos



I'm reviewing two Moychay Yiwu sheng pu'er samples, sent along with a set of samples for review, that I've been mentioning other teas from.  It was sent for that purpose (many thanks!), also in relation to helping out with translation review.

In these posts I won't review any teas that I don't like; there has to be a story to be told.  These two versions are in a grey area related to that.  They're good tea, but a bit unremarkable, not as distinctive as they could be.  General quality level was fine, probably better than it sounds from this description, since this doesn't focus on what I consider to be quality level markers for sheng pu'er (feel, mineral base, refinement, distinctive flavor aspects, etc.).  It's the last that could seem like a gap.  These are mostly floral in nature, but flavor aspects tend to combine.

One is clean and sweet, and the other contains a bit of extra bitterness and astringency, along the line of a dry edge, but not exactly that.  They're fine, but I don't experience them as something one would find so interesting that they'd really feel a need to place an order.  Maybe when a bit newer / younger other distinctive flavors stood out more?  Maybe they're transitioning into a character range that I don't prefer, related to an aging transition cycle?  I'm not sure.  Let's start with the Moychay page descriptions though; there could be a clue there.




Yiwu Cloud Aroma Sheng Puer (10 Euro / $11.70 USD)


Yiwu Cloud Aroma is a raw Pu-erh tea originating from the gentle, mist-covered mountains of Yiwu. The old-tree material from these forests is known for its softer, more elegant character compared to other Menghai regions...

...The liquor is clear yellow-gold with a delicate floral-herbal fragrance and a light sweetness carried by Yiwu’s characteristic soft mouthfeel.

Bitterness is restrained, allowing the sweetness to rise quickly and linger through multiple infusions. This tea is refined, balanced, and ideal for those who enjoy the gentle depth of Yiwu terroir.


$11.70 for 50 grams works out to 23 cents a gram, or equivalent to $82 per 357 gram cake.

That doesn't mention a year, when it was produced.  It was packed on December 2025, that sample, so it could be from 2025, or it's possible it's from before then, a 2024 version.  It could be an autumn harvest version; that would explain why flavors aren't quite as distinct as they could be.  Intensity was ok though, just nothing too exceptional.




YIWU SHENG CHA, from 2023  (20 Euro for 60 grams, $23, but only a 7 gram sample is available now)


Yiwu Raw Pu-erh Tea originates from Yiwu Mountain in Mengla County, Xishuangbanna, Yunnan Province. At an altitude of 1200–1500 meters, this region’s warm, humid climate and fertile soil provide the perfect environment for the Yunnan Da Ye Zhong tea variety. Yiwu Mountain is home to ancient tea gardens, with some trees aged over a century, contributing to the tea’s distinctive character.

Harvested annually between March 20 and May 30 [2023], the tea is made using traditional methods, including hand-picking, pan-firing, rolling, and sun-drying. Only one bud and three leaves are selected to ensure quality. The meticulous processing emphasizes preserving the tea’s original flavor and unique characteristics.

This tea brews into a bright golden infusion with a clean, refreshing taste and lingering sweetness. Aromatic notes of citrus peel and hints of aged wood combine with a silky texture, offering a layered and balanced flavor experience. The dry leaves feature tight, uniform shapes and a pleasant fragrance, reflecting the high standard of selection.


This version was 38 cents a gram, $135 for a standard 357 gram cake (for comparison; it's also not sold that way).

If these were pretty good Yiwu material versions, that matched standard type expectations, or at least were equivalent in some way, then the first pricing would be low, and this would about right.  The review notes cover how that seemed to go.


Review:




Yiwu Cloud Aroma:  pretty good.  Some bitterness and astringency come across this early, even though it's light, but the sweetness and floral nature is promising.  It probably includes a good bit of fruit, along with that floral range, but it will be easier to unpack in later versions, since this is just getting started.

The way the sweetness and mild bitterness complement each other is especially nice, already.


Yiwu Sheng Cha:  that's different.  A strong and warm mineral tone dominates this.  It's not that unusual for young sheng (this is from 2023, not that young / new), but Yiwu--which is really a broad area, so you can't really overgeneralize, as I'm doing--is often light, sweet, and floral, and not typically challenging.  This may be even more challenging next round, and then might ease up as further rounds progress; that's a fairly normal pattern for young sheng.

At this stage it's not nearly as promising and pleasant as the other.





Yiwu Cloud Aroma 2:  sweet and pleasant, with bitterness again balancing nicely with the sweetness.  I still can't get far with unpacking floral and some light fruit range.  Pronounced mineral gives it complexity and good flavor range balance, but makes it hard to isolated distinct flavor inputs.  Blending causes that too, but that may not be the cause in this case.  It seems not to be, it seems to just relate to how it comes across.

One could speculate about a flavors list, but these flavors are overlapping, making that difficult.  There is light floral range, warmer and sweeter floral range, and some degree of fruit, maybe along the line of pear.  It's not as fruity as some young sheng tends to be, but that is still a pleasant input, that works well along with the rest.


Yiwu Sheng Cha:  that mineral edge really increased, even though it had already dominated the first infusion.  It's clean enough, but it could be cleaner.  By that I mean that strong mineral that resembles limestone, or whatever stone, is different than mineral that one might interpret as tasting like kerosene.  This is in the middle.  

It's not bad, it's not a poorly made, low quality tea, but it's not great either, at least in relation to my own preference.  If that flavor was just a little cleaner and lighter this would be really nice, because the intensity if fine, and plenty of mineral input can work well.


Yiwu Cloud Aroma #3:  mineral and astringency edge seem to actually pick up in this, but not to reach the other's level.  Strong floral tones offset it, and it's a sweeter tea (more sweetness comes across; it's not sweet in the sense that sugar is).  Fullness and intensity are pleasant, and the aftertaste is.  It's nice.


Yiwu Sheng Cha:  that astringency edge and sort of dry mineral is easing up already, softening and warming.  This might be even better in another two rounds.  The other balances vaguely similar aspects in a nicer way, per my preference; that comparison doesn't help this tea.  

It's hard to say if this would be better in a couple of years, or have long term aging potential.  It's not exactly what I would associate with those themes.  The little aged Yiwu I've tried--maybe approaching a dozen versions, not just a few--had seemed to fade quite a bit, leaving a lot of warm-toned but subtle depth behind, while the bright floral and sweetness mostly dropped out.  It would require an unusual preference in sheng experience to love this as it is, but I suppose that some would.  

That bitterness and astringency common to a lot of sheng range, that people come to value later on, is dialed up a bit much in this.  I suppose it's possible that could relate to aging potential.

I'm rushing a bit because Saturday errands are starting to be pressing.  It would be better to drink water between these rounds, to clear my palate of this bitterness, astringency, and mineral flavor effects; I might do better describing flavors if I had.




Yiwu Cloud Aroma #4:  I'm trying a light round to see if that isolates flavors better.  It doesn't, for this tea.  It's interesting how so much depth comes across, while the higher end / more forward flavor is very light in this.  It's still smooth, sweet, floral, and complex, but not intense, not in terms of flavor.  The mineral depth still gives it balance, in a much lighter and more approachable form than the other version.


Yiwu Sheng Cha:  perhaps the best this has been.  Mineral is still a bit intense, but it balances better.  Bitterness falls into a better balance, less intense, better matched with the rest.  It's still vaguely floral, with lots more mineral input, perhaps including some fruit.  It's warmer in tone than the other, so all of that would relate to warmer versions than for the other.  I'll go a little stronger next round and then quit the notes; some other function comes up.


Yiwu Cloud Aroma #5:  it's warmer, and mineral plays more role in the profile, as occurred in the past rounds (that transition pattern).  I can't pick up any distinct flavors rushing through this.  Character is fine; it works.  Quality level seems good, but not unusual at all.  It could be more distinctive.


Yiwu Sheng Cha:  the best it has been, but only slightly softer than last round, otherwise not different.  


Conclusions:


Interesting, but not in a way that probably sounds much like high praise.  These were pretty good, but I'm evaluating them based on pretty high expectations, related to trying a lot of quite good sheng (dozens of good versions, and dozens of bad versions, and plenty in between).  Let's break those aspect related notes down to a summary.


Yiwu Cloud Aroma:  this was pretty good, pleasant, well balanced, with good sweetness, good feel, and decent intensity.  The flavors were just a bit vague, and intensity could've been dialed up a bit.  If this was an autumn harvest version, or a blend of different inputs, some of that lack of stronger and more distinctive positive range would make sense.  Or the material could just be only so good.

I ran across an interesting theme in trying a Thai sheng recently, from Wawee Tea, in that limited rain exposure that year decreased the annual harvest volume, and turned up the flavor intensity, concentrating flavor in the reduced leaf volume that was grown.  This could relate to the exact opposite, that tea plants experiencing a lot of rain input could've produced lots of leaf material, but at the cost of intensity and flavor distinctiveness being dialed down.  

Back to the value issue, for this relating to the cost of an $80 standard cake this tea is good, and a good value.  It's in the right general range for Yiwu, but floral notes could pop just a bit more.  It's very drinkable and pleasant.  I wouldn't age this, at all; I think it won't improve with even a year or two of further transition, and all the less so for another decade or two.


Yiwu Sheng Cha:  this was quite different.  An unusual mineral aspect, more bitterness, and greater intensity could've balanced better, and it wasn't as pleasant as the other tea for the first four or so infusions.  It must have been pretty intense 3 years ago, when new, since in a sense it kind of still is now.  Usually teas just evolve to lose brightness and freshness over that limited time-frame, although wetter storage conditions can shift flavors to be much heavier, and bitterness and astringency can evolve out quite a bit.  This wasn't all that heavy in tone, so storage conditions should have been moderate.

But it could've been better.  It's hard to see this as relating to a case where different preferences would relate to liking this version better than the other.  That's definitely possible; higher intensity level, heavier mineral, and more bitterness and astringency structure would suit some people.  Maybe it's even a higher quality tea than the other, in some limited sense.  But it lacked the intense, sweet floral range one might seek out in Yiwu.


I've tried some really good sheng versions from Moychay in the past.  One Nannuo version, that I actually bought in St. Petersburg, on a vacation there, was a turning point in my pu'er experience (reviewed here in 2018).  A couple of Jing Mai versions worked well for that origin area's typical character (sweet, approachable, often including a touch of pine, kind of floral beyond that).  Tea versions in general have been solid from them.

Yiwu has been an in-demand origin area for a long time.  The Tea Addict's Journal blog talks about this related to the later 2000s (or was that earlier 2010s?).  It's probably a well developed sub-set of sheng pu'er production, sourcing, and sales by now.

It's possible that has made sourcing from there problematic, as has occurred for those few really in-demand narrower origin areas (Bing Dao, Lao Ban Zhang, and so on).  Per my understanding it's not exactly a narrow or small area, but that long term balloon in demand over a number of years probably made that even worse.  That demand, or at least a part of it related to speculation, which could relate to "factory tea" versions more, has fallen off over the last year or so, but that may not help better version tea drinkers right away, or maybe that much ever.


Another thought occurs to me, related to describing how an even higher degree of inconsistency is normal from Chinatown shop sources.  These market type online vendors (like Moychay, Yunnan Sourcing, and maybe to a lesser extent King Tea Mall) carry pretty good products at good value, but there are limits to that.  I wouldn't expect too much from Wuyi Yancha or Dan Cong from Yunnan Sourcing (which of course aren't from Yunnan).  Their versions would be fine, probably better than you could buy in a grocery store in China (based on limited travel input; I've only been to China three times).  But it would probably be like this Yiwu sheng pu'er:  pretty good, but definitely not great.


So both of these teas had something different to offer, but it wasn't something that spoke as directly to my preferences as it might have.  It's not one of the more interesting stories I've ever told, but this is a lot of what tea exploration and experience is like.


Keoni on the elevated train



it was the pink line, way out there



Kalani on a ferris wheel



from around 80 feet up



this one keeps growing up too



Thursday, August 20, 2026

Fortnum and Mason Rose Pouchong

 





I'm reviewing a rose pouchong tea from Fortnum and Mason.  There are a couple of interesting layers to this experience, beyond the tea, since pouchong is an interesting type reference, and this was given to me by a Thai monk.  

I can explain how that second part works.  I've mentioned giving monks tea a lot here, and it usually goes that way, that you would give a monk tea, not the other way around.  But it makes sense.


How can a monk give away tea?


I've mentioned giving monks tea fairly frequently, a few times in the past 2 or 3 months.  If people end up giving them a lot of any one thing, like that, it could seem inappropriate for them to stockpile tea, even though for a tea enthusiast that's a best case scenario.  Giving some away to visitors is appropriate, and keeping a moderate supply.  

People also end up giving monks things they're not supposed to have, like a fruit basket.  There's no rule against keeping tea around, but monks can't store food, because they are required to go out on alms rounds daily and live off that food input, and not keep "leftovers."  It's not the worst thing to give them fruit, not a violation of a norm, because they can eat some that day, and pass it on to another visitor, or temple staff.  

There aren't a lot of staff at a temple, like in a billionaire's house complex, but depending on the temple context they may need extra security, office workers, cleaners, etc.  We just had a memorial service event at Wat Pho, a main Thai Bangkok temple, that functions as both a tourism destination and a functional temple, for memorials, funerals (not many; dedicated temples tend to specialize in that), and marriages.  I was married there, and I ordained there, 19 years or so ago.  











That temple is typically the #1 Bangkok tourism destination on Trip Advisor; it's not just a tourism attraction, it's a main one, in a city that draws almost as many visitors as anywhere else in the world.  More might go to Paris, but that's about it.


I recently gave that monk two kinds of tea, after passing on some other tea a month or two prior, and it was probably adding up, what different people had offered.  Hopefully he didn't give it to me to balance the scales, in some way, as friends would return a favor, because I'm not at all concerned about that, and I have a lot of tea around.  Monks can't buy things, so I give tea to a few that I know, because they can't eat anything after noon, and it would be nice to have a beverage option then.  It's just that.


What is pouchong?


Pouchong is baozhong, a type of lightly oxidized oolong from Taiwan.  I had forgotten that, that it's the old name for that type.  This seems nothing like Bao Zhong, instead like a mild black tea.  That's fine though; when oolong types are relatively more oxidized the line blurs, since black teas can also be relatively less oxidized (within a narrow range).  Oddly they're calling it black tea, on the label, at the same time they reference a name for a type of oolong, which might be explained in the following additional background.

This one tastes like a mild and flavorful black tea, in terms of flavor profile.  That's positive.  I'm writing this after taking notes; it's interesting to consider if a bias towards thinking that it's black tea changed anything.  The dried leaves are dark, and the wetted leaves are brown; it's as oxidized as black tea, regardless of what they want to call it, or which processing steps led to that.  So it's really more of a naming and type anomaly; this is functionally black tea.

They could have been referencing an older use of the named type.  This is an excerpt from Tea, It's History and Mystery, by Joseph Walsh, from 1892:




That was in the "souchong" black tea book section; it had been black tea back then, or at least so it seems from this reference.  This is probably what they are referencing, a traditional type name, not the older name variation for a type of Taiwanese oolong.


Review:




First infusion:  it might work better to use a very small amount, 2 or 3 grams, and then brew it for 5 minutes, more or less as the tin label recommended.  I used 4 or 5 grams, and it will brew 2 or 3 times using this kind of hybrid Western approach.  It's "designed" for infusion all at one time, so that might not be ideal; we'll see how it goes.

The flavor is a little light, but it's fine, the range works.  Of course it tastes like flowers and black tea.  Like rose, I guess?  It literally is rose.  The quality of the black tea is pretty good, better than I would have expected.  It's not as if everything that finds its way into a tin is bad, that's just a generality that probably applies more often than it doesn't.  The more flavored a tea is the less the tea input quality would matter, so it might tend to be worse.  Earl Grey versions usually use some pretty so-so black tea as a base.

It's hard to identify much beyond general black tea range and rose.  It's a warm toned black tea, as those tend to be, but it lacks the malty edge of Assam.  It might taste a little like unsmoked Lapsang Souchong.  I still don't know what this is; it might even be that.  Or maybe Keemun / Qimen.  Let's check with Google how that should be:


Qimen black tea, commonly known as Keemun, is a famous Chinese black tea originating from Qimen County in Anhui Province. First produced in 1875, it is prized for its gentle, low-astringent taste with distinct notes of unsweetened cocoa, dried fruit, and a subtle, aromatic smokiness.


Maybe this does include cacao and dried fruit; it's hard to tell, with this much floral input.  That's a good guess.  The range of whatever it does include is positive, and it integrates well with the rest.  Tea quality is good; feel is decent, and aftertaste contributes depth, even though it's mostly floral (the rose).  

It's good tea, in a limited sense.  For a mass produced tin tea it's quite good, for specialty tea range presented as an exceptional version just kind of ordinary, or maybe not on a high level.  Complexity and intensity could be limited, which doesn't matter in this form, because the flower input is covering that.


Second infusion:  I let this go a bit over 5 minutes, to really extract the rest.  There is no astringency edge to work around, or any other unpleasant range, so it should be fine strong.  Or medium; the last should've probably been stronger for brewing about 5 grams for around 4 minutes.  

I didn't mention that this would work well with milk and sugar, but you would need to dial up intensity for that to make sense, and I'm already brewing what should be a really strong version.  It would be strange trying to brew 6 to 8 grams in a 300 ml infuser; at some level it might not fit in a basket.

Floral range really kicks this time.  It even picks up a bit of dry edge to the feel; it's pushed as far as it could be, without things going badly.  This is strong enough to stand up to milk and sugar, but it definitely doesn't need it.  Sweetness level is nice.  

It's cool how there is nothing actually sweet in this in terms of carbohydrate input, but it's sweet.  It lacks that artificial sweet range in stevia and diet drinks; this could really work for some people trying to control caloric intake.  A teaspoon or two of sugar isn't a lot of calories anyway (16 calories in 4 grams, a teaspoon), which makes it all the more odd that sodas contain so much (140 calories in a can of Coke; 8 teaspoons worth).

This is much better than I expected.  I've had pretty good floral blends before, and jasmine black tea is my personal favorite, so I guess it makes sense that I like this.


I'm still not unpacking a new flavor list.  It's not that far off jasmine black tea, but of course this is rose.  Maybe it includes cacao, or maybe that's not a great interpretation.  If there is dried fruit it's not so far off Chinese date, or that plus dried apricot.  The dry, warm, rich input that picked up could seem like malt, if you are looking for that, or autumn leaf might work better.

It might have worked better to brew 2/3rds as much for 6 or 7 minutes, maybe 3 grams or so, and that's it.  But as a specialty tea enthusiast I am biased towards experiencing some transition across rounds, even when it doesn't change anything, or isn't completely positive.


plenty of company for this tasting


Conclusions:


This is a great tea to have on hand for something easy to brew and drink when you are in a hurry, or don't feel like going through much effort.

So how much would this cost?  19 British pounds for 100 grams, or $26.  Is that a good value?  Not compared to what I've been buying at Chinatown locally; I just bought 100 grams of wild origin Chinese black tea for $15, a version that's slightly better.  But for this mass-produced range, selling on a Western market or webpage, it's probably normal, and ok.  


The one Vietnamese jasmine black tea I've tried versions of, from Hatvala, here, sells for $18.25 for 100 grams, and it's probably slightly better (relatively objectively, although preference always factors in).  But then they offer free worldwide shipping on $80 or over, so you'd be looking to build up an order to that amount, from anywhere but within Vietnam, where local post service is probably cheap.  

Fortnum and Mason, through their webpage sales outlet, don't ship to Thailand, so that's not even an option to buy direct from them.  I've never seen this in Bangkok, so it would probably come down to using an Amazon or Ebay outlet, which again might add significant shipping.  

I'd recommend buying the Hatvala tea over this anyway.  More oxidized / red oolong through them has been exceptional in the past, and trying a few other teas would be a great experience.  $80 sounds like a lot, but that could be months worth of tea.  That doesn't change that this was pretty good; I'm saying that you could probably get slightly better tea for less, using a different kind of source.


Monday, August 17, 2026

Wawee Tea red / ruby oolong

 



This reviews a Wawee Tea red oolong, or more oxidized rolled oolong version.  It's a familiar type, but you really don't need to have any background with this tea type to get it.  Better versions are very pleasant and approachable.  

I compare it to a Bangkok Chinatown black tea version, from my favorite shop, Jip Eu.  I don't think they still carry it, and I don't know the details of what it is, so the point is just highlighting how completely random Chinatown tea sourcing goes.  It's a theme that gets covered in describing a recent Chinatown shop visit to another place, to K. Mui Kee Tea.  I'm fairly certain that this is from China, not local, and that's about it.

I can cite some of a description of a Wawee Tea version that may or may not be identical, since it's last year's, from their Shopee site (but now sold out):


Ruanzhi Oolong Red Tea, Spring 2025, Ruby of Wawee. This Oolong tea is 100% fermented, guaranteeing a sweet, fragrant, and smooth finish


Google thinks it knows what this is, based mostly on a Facebook page post:


Ruby of Wawee is a specialty red oolong (ชาแดงอู่หลงหร่วนจือ) produced by Wawee Tea from Doi Wawee in Mae Suai, Chiang Rai. It is crafted using traditional Ruan Zhi (Oolong No. 12) cultivars processed with a deep 100% oxidation technique, yielding a bright ruby-red liquor that bridges the gap between oolong and black tea.


#12 is really Jin Xuan, and what Ruan Zhi is turns out to be complicated.  This is about how the tea is anyway, not all of that.

Related to value, that was selling 120 grams for 580 baht ($17.50), which is great value for a tea that good.  This could be that 2025 version; I'm not sure what year it was from.




I should also mention that Jip Eu is still closed for building repairs, after a front awning section collapsed earlier.  This would be a good time to buy some tea from them through a Shopee online platform storefront, if someone is in Thailand, to support them during this transition.

Or people might think that since I don't really love this black tea that makes less sense.  Fair enough.  I have had good luck with their Wuyi Yancha, Dan Cong, and jasmine white teas as tin-presented versions, which I don't buy often for myself now, more as gifts for others, since I've sorted out where to buy other versions I'm currently hung up on.  Like Wawee Tea; I just ordered two of those, which I've already reviewed, as very exceptional sheng and black tea cakes.


Review:




Wawee ruby / red / hong oolong:  it's not really opened yet, and won't be fully opened next round either, but this is very promising.  Just the scent includes plenty of rich dried berry and spice, and the flavor does as well, but it's still thin.  The fastest way to speed this along would probably be to use a rinse, then a long first infusion time, after letting the leaves rest a little between steps.  I just started brewing it, not even using a rinse.  I'll add more next round.


Chinatown / Jip Eu shop black:  that's really unique.  It includes a good bit of tartness, which I usually don't like in black teas, but this includes so much dried fruit that it gives off a strong cranberry effect, which kind of works.  And there's quite a bit of cacao. 

I'm not loving the overall effect, due to the tartness, but it's interesting, and still somewhat pleasant.


Wawee oxidized oolong #2:  this is a great version of a "red oolong," or relatively more oxidized oolong.  That oxidation level can overlap with normal black tea range, making it an interesting category.  People sometimes use a percentage to describe it, but who knows how accurate or informative that would usually be. 

Flavor still includes dried fruit, most centered around dried cherry, or possibly blackberry, with some cacao.  The earlier spice edge has diminished and dropped back as a supporting input.  It might be complex, a hint of cinnamon, combined with even stronger nutmeg.  Sweetness, rich feel, and all the rest are very positive.  This is good; well made, pleasant, and interesting tea, well worth talking about.


Chinatown black:  flavors shift, but tartness remains the main flavor input.  For people like me who dislike tartness as a primary black tea flavor this just wouldn't match with preference.  Others would love that more, and for them it could be exceptional.  Tones warm in this, so it comes across differently.  It picks up a dark toffee sort of sweetness, and base mineral increases.  The fruit reminds me more of a tart apple this round, although of course cranberry still works as a description of part of it.  Cacao tastes like dark chocolate; often it's more along the line of hot cocoa.




Wawee red oolong #3:  this is only now fully opened up.  The flavors list is the same though:  dried cherry, some berry, cacao, and spice.  It's a nice mix of sweet, fruity and warm tones; it balances well.  You could try a lot of "red oolong" and not discover a version this positive.  But there's not much more to add in description here.


Chinatown black:  the best it has been, since tartness is easing up.  Warm tones enter in, maybe along the line of spice, or maybe even towards a dark rye bread flavor.  If someone loves tart black teas this could be an exceptional experience.  If they don't it wouldn't be good.

Oddly I can drink brewed roselle (a fairly tart tisane), and I'm fine with it.  I need to add sugar, which offsets tartness being too strong.  Maybe if I added a little milk and sugar to this I'd like it more, but I won't try that.  It's fine that it's mostly a miss for me.  If I had bought 100 grams of it I probably would explore that, and might drink most of it made that way.  I only bought some samples one day awhile back, to try something different there.


Wawee oolong #4:  the warm spice range picks up; it's as nice as it has been, and it was really pleasant before.  This should brew a couple more very positive infusions, then you could keep stretching it.

To me this is an ideal tea version to get people started on tea.  Everyone would love it, and you can't really screw it up by using the wrong brewing approach.  It would work well light or brewed strong, and using really hot water or cooler infusion would be fine (but hotter would be better, I think; there is no astringency to brew around).


Chinatown black:  the best this has been.  It works for me, like this.  Tea evolving to be better and better across rounds is a great sign for quality, but this related more to tartness fading, a normal aspects transition cycle.  Still, it's pretty good quality tea, to be this intense and pleasant 4 rounds in, with earlier rounds brewed at kind of medium intensity.


I'll drop the note taking here.  It will be interesting to see how three more infusions work out, but it won't be much of a story to tell.


Conclusions:


The Wawee Tea version was much better, but then that's not a fair comparison, since it's a relatively favorite type.  In that other Chinatown shop visit post I mention that what you find in Chinatown shops tends to be all over the map, just random, and this black tea exemplifies that.  Some people would love this, so the final result would be the opposite for them.

This Wawee Tea version is pretty solid as oolongs from Thailand tend to be.  Often you can find pleasant enough versions, but they usually lack this distinctiveness, complexity, and balance.  They often brew out a bit faster, not holding together as very pleasant through lots of rounds (the next two were also good, although it was thinning past that point).  I could definitely recommend this, to almost anyone.


To many this "red or ruby oolong" might just seem like black tea, and the oolong part wouldn't make sense.  My take is that it's processed similarly to oolong, from a cultivar used to make oolong (more often), in a rolled form like oolongs.  Mixing the two categories in the naming works; lots of people would be familiar with the general type.  It's closer to a mild, sweet, complex black tea than to oolong, as I've described.


Saturday, August 15, 2026

Visiting a Bangkok Chinatown tea shop (K. Mui Kee Tea)

 



I've not been exploring Bangkok Chinatown tea shops much, for a long time.  One set of shop owners are so familiar and pleasant to visit with that I kept going to the same shop over and over, really appreciating seeing them, with lots of varying teas already on offer there.  That's to Jip Eu, my favorite local shop, located near the Hua Lampong railway station.

Their building is under repair, so they're closed, so I visited another local shop to buy tea for a gift within the last month (K. Mui Kee Tea, nearby there).  I wrote about trying a very pleasant Dan Cong from them here.


the owners of that other shop, Jip Eu


I just went back to buy more tea for gifts, and visited with the owner and two other guests there.  This is about that.  That shop owner had always seemed pleasant before, and it was a nice chance to visit more.


I don't want to say or imply too much here about the theme of that shop, or general value for what's there, or what else they carry.  But I can cover how trying those teas went, and that paints some of that picture.  You could assume that some of what I'm saying applies more broadly, that these represent their selection, or what I'm saying about value would hold true for others, but I'm not implying that.  

Inconsistency is one of the interesting parts of visiting Chinatown shops.  A version might be great, or value might be exceptional, then for the next tea it can all shift.  It's not that the shop owners can't judge teas well; my take is that working through very diverse forms of sourcing the outcomes naturally vary.  But who knows about likely causes.


Wild origin black tea:  this is what I already gave away for a gift, and what I was there to buy again.  I had only smelled the dry leaf before, but you can get some sense of teas that way.  We actually tried the tea there (not first; this isn't in order).  It is good.  

Maybe the flavor list is a little unique, not matching some standard type expectation, but the flavors were positive, and they balanced well, as the rest of the character did.  I suppose one might interpret something like limited intensity across some flavor range or light body feel as flaws, but to me it was a solid, pleasant, good quality tea.  I would expect that by shifting brewing approach you could adjust for whatever didn't seem as positive, to you.  

I can't really cite a clear flavor list, based on trying that tea yesterday, not focusing on that.  I think it included some dried fruit, and warm tones were what you would expect for black tea, maybe along the line of cacao.  I didn't notice citrus or roasted yam or sweet potato, but that's not to say that I wouldn't if I didn't try it again, and focus in more.

Cost was 500 baht ($15) for 100 grams.  That's pretty good for good quality, novel, distinctive tea like that.  It's not rock bottom pricing, as can occur in Chinatown shops, but you shouldn't be looking for that in a tea version of a type that's all but completely unique.  If the idea is to find a steal on a main type, like standard rolled Tie Guan Yin, that can work.  Really Thai teas should sell for less, and Chinatown shops tend to sell Chinese teas instead (of course).


a Longjing varietal tasting (covered here)



Longing:  this is a good test case for evaluating any Chinatown shop, isn't it?  If you don't already know why it's not important, but this is a pretty standard type.  It's more or less my favorite green tea.  Flavor tends to be nutty, or to resemble toasted rice, with some floral range, and not too much vegetal or grassy flavor (conventionally).  A range of flavor not too far off cashew can tend to pop, integrated with floral range in a unique way.  The effect can be a little like new car smell, but in a very positive sense.  I get it that comparison makes limited sense.

This version was pretty good, pretty far up the scale.  By that I also mean not at the top of the scale, but to me that's fine, if pricing matches.  It was selling for 1000 baht per 100 grams ($30), which to me seems fine for a pretty good version.  Often the best examples can be more like 50 cents a gram, or at least the normal best that you tend to find.

This is the kind of tea that would divide people with that developed preference.  Some would naturally really want to experience that most intense, most type-typical flavor set, and intensity.  But then they would already know buying that quality level for 30 cents a gram isn't how that tends to go.  To me pretty good versions bring across most of the same appeal.



two other Dan Cong versions, more oxidized and roasted (left) and lighter (right)



Mi Lan Xiang Dan Cong:  another good test case / standard type.  Theirs was pretty good.  I didn't catch a selling price, so I won't be able to evaluate if it's good for the price-implied quality level.  If it cost 500 to 600 baht per 100 ($15-18) grams it would be a good deal; if it cost 1000 you might be able to find as good a version for slightly less somewhere else.

That's the most standard type of Dan Cong, another oolong range type.  It's the name of a flower, honey orchid, so it's supposed to taste similar to other versions, and that flower, and I think this did.  It often also tastes a little like ripe peach.  I don't remember if this did or didn't, but I think I came in late in the steeping sequence, so maybe the most intense range had already passed.  Really high quality versions tend to express great character deep into a long round of steeps, but for normal priced versions (25 cents a gram or so, or less) the positive intensity fading over a limited number of rounds is fine.


that might've been between these in style, not so oxidized and roasted or as light



Dian Hong, a version with a lot of buds:  this is my own personal favorite black tea type, Yunnan black.  I tend to like fine leaf versions best, or even from good sized leaves, but buds heavy versions would be in higher demand, and considered more positive, to many.  It tasted like these should taste, and the feel / body seemed fine.  It was heavy on honey and some cacao flavor range, with good complexity and depth beyond that.  


it looked like this, a China Life Dian Hong reviewed in 2016 (the Mei Leaf predecessor)



If this had been a personal favorite style it would've really stood out among the other teas.  I do like it, but for whatever reason I like the leaf based variations more.  They might give up a bit in terms of forward flavor, traded out for more experience of depth, and the conventional flavor range shifts, not so much tied to honey and cacao but more into roasted sweet potato or yam.  For people who love Jin Jun Mei this wasn't so far from that taste range; they would also like it.

Since I'm guessing an appropriate value, even for not knowing cost, I could keep on with that.  This is pretty good quality tea, in a desirable, in-demand style, so a little higher cost range would seem normal.  But black teas tend to be priced lower than Dan Cong oolong, so pretty much everything I sad about the Mi Lan Xiang version also applies directly here.  This probably does cost a little more than the wild origin version ($15 / 500 baht per 100 grams), and that would be fair, related to buds heavy content being distinctive and adding appeal (demand).  To me 1000 baht ($30) per 100 grams would seem a little high, even though in online Western outlets that would still be about right.  Thai Chinatown shops tend to sell at a good value, although that's not always true, and you could still get a "bad deal" on teas in places.


Da Hong Pao (Wuyi Yancha):  a version we tried was fine.  Flavors and other character was in the right range, and it brewed multiple rounds consistently and positively.  We talked about in-house charcoal roasting, related to trying it.  There's a lot that brought to mind, and it was odd sharing how that theme is interesting, and represents distinctive vendor capability, and also serves as a red flag.  I'll add a short version of that here, and not say as much about this tea version.


Per my very limited understanding it's not unusual for Taiwanese oolong vendors to buy essentially unroasted, unfinished tea versions and then roast them to a desired level.  It requires a high degree of skill to do that well.  Producers roast teas under controlled and specific conditions, multiple times, matching the roast input to the existing tea potential.  It's not like just heating them up a standard amount for a standard time, and then they're good.

That's atypical though, again per my understanding.  Most Western vendors would just buy oolongs as finished teas, already roasted.  They would have been processed to match the other processing inputs, the original material character and oxidation level input.  So why else would a vendor need to add roast input?  For two main reasons, and maybe for others as well.

One is to periodically re-roast teas stored over a long time period to restore flavor balance, and compensate for some limited moisture input from storage.  This is a bit touchy, because in modern times, again per my understanding, vendors just seal the teas better to begin with, stored at an appropriate moisture content level, and an older concern about accumulated moisture contact drops out.

A last reason is to cover up flaws in teas.  Vendors might mix a few material inputs that more or less don't completely match with each other (although in the best case they would balance each other perfectly), and cover up inconsistencies in character by roasting it all quite a bit.  Bridging this category and the last, if a tea went completely dead from improper storage roasting might add flavor, even though it's not ideal to let a tea lose most of its original taste.

So one might look on claims that in-house roasting is a positive and important input with some suspicion.  Depending on how it's done, and why, it could be that.  That Da Hong Pao was pretty good, so that's a good sign.  Pretty good is all relative, and let's skip expanding on that for now, and the value part.  I'm also skipping that Da Hong Pao is usually a branding term for either mixed input teas or something random, maybe just Shui Xian, since the most original forms are usually sold as Qi Dan or Bei Dou instead (related plant types).


Another shou pu'er we tried a little of seemed ordinary, but fine.  I'll skip all the extrapolation here, about really placing quality, or guessing about price; we just tried one round of it.


K. Mui Kee Tea; they sell those tea stuffed dried tangerines, a cool thing to try


Other concerns; is this a typical Chinatown shop experience?


It's kind of not.  If shop owners want to try teas with you then they will, maybe even tasting all sorts of things, without really worrying about what you buy in the end.  More often they wouldn't.  A shop might be set up around that theme, as Sen Xing Fa is (a tourist oriented shop not too far away).  These older style, owner ran local shops tend to sell tea at a better value than tourist oriented shops with more staff.


a meetup at Sen Xing Fa; not so many shops would be open to hosting that kind of thing


Or shops might visit and make tea for locals they already know, the case of me visiting Kittichai at Jip Eu.  That's like visiting an uncle, to me.  I buy tea every time, just because it's fair to, and I'm usually there for that, but they'll often brew teas they don't even sell, just to share the experience.

I think this shop owner is unusually nice.  I always had that sense before, even though I may have never tried much brewed tea there.  His reputation is really positive in the local tea community.

So I seem to be saying that the owner is nice, tasting there is no problem, the teas are good, and they are also a good value.  That visit definitely implied all of that.  But I would expect some degree of inconsistency to come up, for some versions to be better than others, and for value to vary.  That's normal for Chinatown shops.  You hedge your bet in having that experience (of inconsistency) when the owner really gets tea, as he seems to, but Chinese tea is a really broad subject.  Even for vendors in the business for decades they tend to know some types better than others, and to have better developed sourcing for some range.

To me this isn't really a significant negative part of exploring teas through Chinatown shops.  Value might not be great all the time, or tea quality, but the normal range is pretty favorable, for better shops.  The worst experiences teach you, and the cost for that instruction tends to be relatively low.





Meeting those other guests was very pleasant.  They weren't so far along the tea exploration path, but they had significant prior exposure, and a fantastic attitude about it all.  They were really nice. 

Tea enthusiasts tend to end up in a strange place related to it seeming normal that people have already tried a half dozen version of dozens of types, and have memorized a couple of books worth of background.  Of course I don't judge people based on how they might do sitting down to write a book about tea off the top of their head.  

In a sense I envy people newer to the interest.  They have so much exploration range to get to, so many instances of trying something new and interesting for the first time.  If you start out trying basic quality tea versions you can gradually drink better and better tea, for years, without it even costing that much.  Just exploring broadly, or horizontally across types (if you like that spatial analogy), you can keep trying pretty good teas indefinitely.  Chinese teas do tend to be unusually diverse, and favorable, with a unique high end related to potential quality level, but it can work in relation to other origins as well.

I can make that more specific.  You could spend 15 to 30 cents a gram on a lot of pretty good teas, and drink different types and characters of versions for years, before it seemed in order to push on to higher quality level, to spend more, in order to really have a more complete experience.  Or you could start "at the top," either way would work.  I just don't think it would work well to explore a lot of the best quality teas out there, and then get around to trying much more basic versions after that.

All of these teas we tried are in the middle, and favorable in character related to that, well above average for quality level and pleasantness.  I could never drink teas better than them, for the rest of my life, and I'd be fine with that.  But people naturally approach all of that in different ways, and it's natural for a perspective on quality levels and what one values to change over time.





The Three Horse Chinatown shop.  I bought some tea there not long ago, but haven't tried any, there or of what I bought (again for a gift; I tend to give away a good bit of tea).  I'd have to recommend going to these other style shops instead, where you can meet an owner and try some tea with them.  Or in Sen Xing Fa it's more just different staff, but they're set up for tasting as part of a routine sales process.


Wednesday, August 12, 2026

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