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of the Lazy Literatus

Author: lazyliteratus Page 40 of 43

Tea blogger, professional cleaner of toilets, amateur people watcher.

A Taste of Taiwan and a Teattle Trip

By

On April 26, 2012

In Tea Musings

Let’s talk about networking…or rather how much I hate doing it.

Around this time last year, I was among the many underemployed folks out there. My mother – a former career counselor – always stressed that making contacts helps in the process. I knew she was right; she’s almost always right. That didn’t stop me from stubbornly clinging to my hermitism.

I ended up finding more gainful employment (if you can call it that) in June of that year. Networking really had nothing to do with it, but had I stuck it out a little longer…who knows? One area where it seems to be crucial, however, is with my “other” job. Yeah, that whole tea thing.

Not to toot my own horn (man, that sounds wrong), but I had online tea networking down to an art. Juggling three social networks, three blogs, and a cat aren’t easy feats. And for some reason, my opinion seemed to matter to some people. What was odd, though, was how I fell out of the loop from January to – well – now.

No fault of the tea community, mind you, more a matter of stuff going on in my own head – introversion and depression at their most crippling. For a while, I was starting to believe I was “tea’d out”. I even thought of curbing the whole review thing entirely. It took real-life networking contacts to make me see the error of my ways.

If you folks haven’t made David Galli – oh, he, of PDXTea.org fame – a contact, you really should. This is a guy who doesn’t have networking down to an art; he actually has it down to a friggin’ science. And I’m forever in his debt for somehow keeping me in the IRL tea loop. Examples:

In late January, I received an e-mail from Chuck – the co-owner of The Jasmine Pearl Tea Merchants – to my “company” account informing me of new teas they got in. A whole flight of Taiwanese offerings awaited my palate perusal. It was Mr. Galli who had passed word to Chuck on how to contact me.

We made a jaunt out to the JP shop the following week and sampled some wonderful Formosan flavors. Particular standouts for me were an aged charcoal-roasted Dong Ding (review pending on It’s All About the Leaf), a GABA green tea (yes, such a thing exists!), and a Ruby black. Chuck also kindly passed along some heicha my way, something that’d been on my “List” for awhile. Before I left the shop, I had quite the bounty.

I also made a follow-up jaunt the next week when a much-touted organic Formosa green was in stock. To put it shortly, I picked up an ounce instantly. That and it’s become my go-to green tea on a work day – mainly for its ability to stand up to boiling water. And none of this would’ve been close to possible if I didn’t have an expert networker in my social arsenal.

Less than a month after that, I had a thought to finally make my way to Seattle. A fellow tea blogger had opened a new shop in Burien – a Seattle suburb town – and they were one of the few places that carried Korean teas. By luck or fate, I had landed a Thursday off, allowing me ample opportunity to make a day trip of it. A co-pilot seemed necessary as well, and I invited PDXTea Dave along. He proceeded to take the trip to another level.

Dave was kind enough to do the driving for the trek, and I covered the gas. We arrived in Burien less than three hours later. The Phoenix Teahouse was just as advertised on their Facebook page – a cozy shop right in the heart of downtown. Cinnabar Gong Fu was on hand to tea us to death. I must say, I was expecting her to be a lot more serious. It turned out she was just as silly as the rest of us. We blew through three exquisite Korean green teas – all with a “-jak” suffix, which I still have no translation for – and all possessed an exquisitely sweet and nutty profile with a wonderfully wildernessy finish.

My favorite of the bunch, however, wasn’t a green tea at all. Somehow, someway, Phoenix had acquired a Korean black (or red) tea dubbed “Dan-Cha“. I have no idea who Dan is, but his tea is wonderful. I ended up grabbing an ounce of it to go. (A full write-up just on that tea is forthcoming.)

Before we knew it, four hours had breezed by. Dave and I, in the midst of our sipping, even got a glimpse of some of Burien’s local color. The quaint town makes Northern Exposure look like a documentary. Cinnabar handled the traffic like a laid-back pro.

We ended up finally leaving as they were closing. That’s right. We closed down a tea bar. We’re hardcore like that. Before leaving, I made it a point to try some strongly-brewed Ceylon from a samovar they had in the shop. (You heard right, they have a f**king samovar!) Did I like it? Oh my, yes. Problem? I had to use the restroom immediately after. A career zavarka drinker, I will never be.

Originally, I intended The Phoenix Teahouse to be our only stop, but David had made more arrangements. The super-networker had connected with Michael J. Coffey – Seattle’s resident tea tome – and we added a second tearoom, The Floating Leaves, to our trek.

The Floating Leaves was an archival-looking tearoom on the fringes of downtown Seattle run by Shiuwen Tai. The first thing that caught my eye about the space was the grand table in the right-hand corner of the shop on entry. Shiuwen sat at one end – like a presiding tea judge – with various drinkers seated around it – sipping away with merriment.

As we got acquainted with the owner, I came to another realization. She was silly as well. What was it about tea that induced silliness?! First Cinnabar, now Shiuwen. Was no one in “Teattle” serious about their beverage occupation? No, I’m not complaining. Far from it.

After parting ways from the Leaves – and leaving with yet more oolong than I knew what to do with – we ended up making one last stop at a gigantic burrito place. I practically had to roll out of the joint when we were done. And that was only after ingesting the SMALL one.

Dave and I finally made it back to Portland about 11PM that night. Only a mere three hours past our originally-intended 8PM ETA. Was there nary a regret? Nay.

And that’s why it pays to have a real networker in your circle of friends – tea or otherwise. They remind you of other avenues of exploration that may not have occurred to you. I have a bevy of beverages as evidence.

Soba Up, Buckwheat! You’ve Had too Much Oolong Beer!

By

On March 27, 2012

In Tea Musings

Obviously, I’m still playing catch-up. This is a flashback to late-January. I assure you, though, it’s totally worth it. Well, if you like tea in your beer. Moving along…

Tea and beer are my two favorite beverages in the world. Yes, the entire world. Both are also extremely habitual and have a lot of history to them. As a result, becoming geekily obsessed with the minutiae surrounding either drink is an obvious conclusion. So, what happens when I learn that both have been – somehow/someway – combined?

Answer: Geek overload.

I have tried several examples where tea and alcohol have been combined. In some cases, it was merely scented teas – either smoked or aged in a barrel – but on the other end of the spectrum are the alcoholic drinks that use tea leaves as an ingredient. My favorites of those, to date, have been an Earl Grey/tangerine zest ale and a jasmine green tea mead. I had yet to run into a brewery that found a creative use for oolong, though.

In the Fall, a friend brought to my attention that Oakshire Brewing out of Eugene, OR. had done just that. Alas, I was a whole week behind the times. The stuff had long since been drunk dry. Fast-forward to January: The purveyor of J-Tea – the pivotal “J” himself – brought to my attention that it wasn’t all done yet. In fact, the beer in question had a second go-around left. Better still? It was a gin-barrel-aged, Belgian-style saison that was brewed with Taiwanese greener-style oolong as an ingredient. An oolong provided by “J”.

Josh Chamberlain brewing oolong in a keg!

Josh Chamberlain brewing oolong in a keg!

My brain exploded.

The tasting itself was being held at a cheese bar in Southeast Portland, and – as luck would have it – it was also one of my days off. Only one small snag, though. I was still sick from the second round of “Le Plague”. I didn’t care; this was worth leaving quarantine.

I was able to form a mini-posse with two other friends to make the trip. Matt Van Wyk – Oakshire’s brewmaster himself – was also on-hand to answer any questions about the brew itself. (And pick his brain, I did.) The name of it was completely awesome: Frederic’s Lost Arm. I couldn’t tell ya what it meant, though.

The brew itself? Needless to say, it was superb. The Oakshire folks know how to brew a damn good beer, and this was no exception. It was strong on the juniper note toward the front, followed by the sour Belgian-ish-ness in the middle. The aftertaste was both sweet and bitey. The only disadvantage was, there was no sign of oolong to be found. I guess all the cask-conditioning willowed away any punch the green Formosa could deliver. No surprise there. Taiwanese oolongs can be on the gentle side. However, if I tried – even through my clogged state – I could remember a bit of a honey-like texture to it.

Short answer: “Dayamn”.

*****

On a completely unrelated night that same week, I finally tore into a sample that was sent my way by fellow writer/blogger, Jo Johnson. She had seen mention of soba-cha on my “Tea WANT!” list and decided to impart some to me. I knew it wasn’t a rare tea to come by, but I was extremely grateful that she beat me to the punch.

For those who don’t know, “soba” simply means “buckwheat” in Japanese. I don’t know much about the grain other than the name being applied to idiots. That said, when I took a whiff of the stuff, I was greeted by a pungently nut-sweet aroma that could rival rooibos in its delivery.

Alas, the taste didn’t quite reflect the aroma’s sweetness, imparting a nutty brew that reminded me of rice, barley, and sweetened peanuts. While surprised with the change in profile, I still rather enjoyed it. The little granules held up to a boiled-water/five-minute brew-up with surprising sturdiness, and it was a far cry better than some rice-laden teas I’ve tried. (Yes, I’m talking to you genmaicha.)

Speaking of genmaicha…recently, I had an epiphany to one day try this blended with a kabusecha-style tamaryokucha (heavily-shaded, curly green tea from Kumomoto) and maybe a dash of Nishio-grown matcha. Maybe I’ll give it a try soon and record the results…but that’s a subject for another schizoid rambling.

You Think You Know Yunnan?

By

On March 21, 2012

In Tea Musings

Oh, hi.

You’re still here. Damn…have you been waiting long? Two months? Really?! Ummm…

Yeah, I had…uh…Carpal-depress-‘o-flu. It’s contagious. I’d stay back if I were you. Now where were we…January? Ah, yes.

To say it’s been a rough Winter is an understatement. I spent three weeks of it on my second bout with “Le Plague”. This put an even greater delay on my tea reviewing schedule – even well beyond the usual procrastination. One can’t really judge a drink when they can neither taste or smell. However, there were some strong contenders that braved the challenge.

Along with my usual morning matcha routine, I also attempted to drink copious amounts of white tea. I figured, if I couldn’t taste anything anyway, a good white tea won’t really matter. Most people can’t taste the stuff anyway unless they over-brew it. I can…but I’m “sensitive”.

There were three Yunnan white teas I had at my disposal. One was a rougher white known as Yue Guang Bai. Loosely translated, it means “Moonlight White”. The process for making it is slightly different than other white teas. Instead of being dried like other teas, it instead goes through a process (I’ve heard) that is similar to maocha (proto-pu-erh). It shows in the initial taste – rough, leafy and slightly earthy.

The second on hand was a favorite of mine – sun-dried buds from the Ya Bao (Arbor) varietal. The stuff reminded me of a Greek Mountain herbal infusion on smell and sip. As for the buds, they always looked very un-tea-like, but – man! – could they take a beating! I could boil the heck out of ‘em and still get three infusions-worth.

And speaking of boiling. Good ol’ Chuck – the husband half of The Jasmine Pearl Tea Merchants – corrected me on an assumption I held that only Fujian-produced Silver Needles were the best. He brought forth one that was produced in Yunnan, looked exactly like the Fuding/Fujian stuff, and smelled five times better. As in, the leaves actually had a smell. Citrus, as a matter of fact.

So what is an indecisive sick boy to do when he can barely taste anything through his congestion? How does he choose which white tea to go for? Answer: He doesn’t. He mixes the three together.

The result was…well…I couldn’t tell you exactly what it tasted like because I couldn’t really discern much past my clogged palate. What I can tell ya was that I did taste it? Quite a bit! That says something about the strength of these Yunnan whites. What’s even better? When I brewed ‘em up in a pot, I used boiling water. This doubled their taste output.

I only did a pot of all three once, and I’m not entirely sure why I didn’t try it again. Perhaps, now that my nasals are clear, I’ll revisit the unprofessional blend. As it stands, though, Yunnan whites are quite the powerhouse to the palate. Even a sickly one.

The Tea Trolley

By

On January 24, 2012

In Tea Fiction

“What is it?” asked a passerby.

“What does it look like?” said a grizzly, overalled Brit sitting on a bench.

“A train,” was the American’s curious response. “Not like any I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s because it’s not a train,” the Brit said gruffly. “It’s a trolley.”

And indeed it was. A curious contraption to boot; instead of cars and compartments, it was three brass trays synced together with various clockwork gears and turbines. If one were staring at it from afar, they would’ve seen a go-cart or a push-table. But no, it was an actual trolley of weird and rare design. Like a table on railroad tracks. People milled about, all with teacups in their hands, some in their nicest finery, others in their pajamas. it was a bizarre sight to the newly-arrived American.

“What are they doing?”

“Tribute, I think.” It wasn’t a question.

The American left the gnarled Brit to his sitting and approached the crowd. Various women and men – some in Victorian attire, others in modern garb, and others still yet identifiable – were crowded around the odd locomotive.

Then, as if by some invisible chime, they raised their teacups to the sky. Not a word was spoken. Any murmuring ceased. The American was at a loss, for he didn’t have a cup to raise…nor a reason to raise it. He was confused by the entire display.

“Here,” came a sing-songy voice from behind him. “I have an extra.”

A slender, middle-aged woman in a bonnet and a sweater adorned with the British flag had her hand outstretched. Funny, since she didn’t sound British. He accepted the cup gently and graciously.

“What is this for?” he asked.

“That?” she said with a giggle. “It’s for the tea trolley.”

“That is a tea trolley?!” he exclaimed with a furrowed brow. “Isn’t it…”

“Rather large?” she offered. “Oh yes. Wouldn’t have it any other way. How else can you have tea if you can’t travel?”

“So…it’s a trolley…in the shape of a trolley.”

“You catch on quick,” she said wryly.

“Why this display then?”

She sighed, “Because the tea trolley has ceased its run. All these people were once her passengers.”

“A eulogy,” the American said.

“No, a celebration,” she laughed. “Eulogies are far too dour.”

“Were you a passenger?”

“I better have been,” she said. “I invented it.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, Mrs…”

“Milly.”

“Mrs. Milly?”

“Just Milly,” she smiled.

The former passengers still had their cups raised. None seemed to be tiring with their arms outstretched, or if they were fatigued, they didn’t show it. Probably couldn’t.

“Well, are you going to join in?” she nudged.

“Should I?” he asked nervously. “I mean…I was never a passenger.”

“Don’t be silly,” she assured him.

With that, he reluctantly raised his dainty cup.

“You already are.” Her voice trailed on the wind with an echo.

The American looked behind him…but she was gone.

Author’s Note: Mildred P., a.k.a. @MildewPea (on Twitter) – or simply Milly – was one of the first people I ever talked to when I joined the site o’ Twits back in 2009. She was almost TOO wholesome and incredibly witty. It took all my gumption just to keep up with her.

One of the fun little games played on Twitter was the addition of “#TheTeaTrolley”…and me being the idiot I am, I thought it was an actual trolley. I never let on that I had no clue what a tea trolley even was, but I still considered myself a happy passenger.

R.I.P. Milly, you taught me how a Tea Twit should conduct themselves. Here’s a cup to ya.

Lazy Tea Prep (with Video)

By

On January 2, 2012

In Tea Musings

The art of tea blending is one that has always eluded me. I know of people that consider themselves experts in the field, but I often wondered how much skill it really took to create a blend. Playing with different herbs and teas wasn’t a new thing to me. I did it all the time at home to varying degrees of success and failure. The one I had yet to try to mimic was English Breakfast.

I read somewhere that there was no set recipe for English Breakfast. Typically, there was an Assam base, and other like-flavored burly black teas rounded it out. Sometimes they included low-altitude Ceylon or earthy Yunnan Dian Hong. But I found a snippet that mentioned a truly good blend was done with equal parts Assam and Keemun. Seemed easy enough.

At a par”tea” thrown by a friend of mine, I decided to demonstrate the ease of English Breakfast blending. I went up to the host and said, “Wanna see how easy blending is?”

He nodded slowly.

I took a helping of Keemun Gongfu and another of Rani estate Assam, put them in a bag together and shook it vigorously.

“There,” I said. “I just blended.”

My friend sniffed the contents of the bag. “That smells awful.”

I cocked an eyebrow, whiffed…and came up with little discernible aroma.

Perhaps I needed to rethink my approach. When I got home I looked through my stash of teas to see what would work for a second English try-out. I figured that both ingredients had to have a similar aromatic and visual profile. As luck would have it, I was in possession of a very tippy Keemun Mao Feng as well as some gold-tipped Assam from Glenburn’s Khongea estate. Both had a similar malty profile – albeit the Keemun was sweeter.

The results were…well…how about I just show you.

Now that I’ve been (understandably) exiled to my room, I can reflect upon it. The liquor brewed as I expected it would, very crimson-to-copper. The aroma had the subtlety of a bitter battering ram – very dry on the nostrils followed by something bordering on malt. To the taste, it was extremely tannic on the forefront but eventually settled nicely into a malty echo.

Verdict: If I’m in a pinch, it’s good to know I can shake up something drinkable. As to the art of blending itself…I’ll leave that to the professionals. The ingredients I used were of exceptional quality on their own, but I had little regard for how to portion them correctly. Clearly, I have a lot to learn.

Credits and Acknowledgements

Directed and Edited by:

Robert Norman (my brother). Without his help, I wouldn’t have been able to put together this little “tutorial” video. Sometimes living with a film grad is useful.

You can find more stuff by him HERE.

Our other collabs can be found HERE.

“Written” and “Starring”:

Me, of course. Honestly, other than coming up with the idea for this, writing a one-page script, and doing copious amounts of begging, my contributions were minor by comparison.

Special Guest Star:

Thanks to Robert “The Devotea” Godden for lending me his blender disapproval.

You can find his tea videos HERE.

You can find his blog HERE.

You can purchase his blends HERE.

Teas:

06-June Khongea Golden Tips Second Flush Assam TGFOP1 provided by KTeas.

My thoughts on it – by itself – can be found HERE.

Gift Keemun Hong Mao Feng provided by Vicony Teas

My thoughts HERE.

Tea Props:

Eight Cranes Perfect Steeper

Adagio UtiliTea

Wardrobe:

“Pot Head” shirt purchased at The Jasmine Pearl Tea Merchants

Pet Cameos:

Abacus St. Bernard

Georgia Poopybottom

Tea Gift Gratitude

By

On December 23, 2011

In Tea Musings

It is technically the morning before the actual day that houses the night before Christmas. Or as I like to call it, “A work day”. I found a brief amount of time between family visits, pajama-ing, whiny cat-sitting, and getting-ready-for-work-‘er-ing to reflect on something I’ve been meaning to for some time. 2011 has had a lot of ups and downs. Some of which were whined about ad nauseam over the various social media feeds I infest. One thing has remained fairly consistent – the e-tea world.

My tea world, as it exists in the intangible realm of cyberspace (and in small part, the real world as well) has been a source of escape and elation. And better still, it’s been steady. Drama has been light, and camaraderie has been lengthy. And, of course, let’s not forget the tea. There’s been plenty of that. So, I wanted to take the time and bestow gratitude to some fellow bloggers who contributed some pretty darn good tea to me this year.

Joie de Tea

Or as she’s known in some circles – Veri”Tea” Fisher – is a Tolkien-loving Aussie lass steeped in tea, baking, and adorable bookwormdom. I encountered her through another mutual “Teaussie” – Robert Godden (better known as The Devotea) – and have spoken with her at some length on various topics of nerddom. The real reason she’s featured here can be summed up in one word – “Daintree”.

She read my Tea “WANT!” List and saw that Australian-grown Daintree black tea was at the very top. Being the kind soul she is, she bought me some and shipped it internationally. And not just a dainty amount o’ Daintree – oh no! A lot! I’ve been sharing it liberally.

It was a very mellow black tea with a very generic OP palate, but it was ever-so-pleasant. Not very often you run into a black tea that actually embodies a taste best described as “soothing”. Thanks to Verity, I was finally able to notch it off my bucket list.

(And if Hodgkin’s Law of Parallel Planetary Development exists on a small scale, I can hopefully find her single American equivalent.)

You can follow her teadventures HERE.

Little Miss WifeyPurrMewCollar

Courtney Powers is a brave woman for putting up with more than one cat. She’s downright impervious for putting up with more than one online persona. I’m not even sure how to address her most of the time. One thing is certain, she’s a Jill of all Trades.

I wasn’t aware of her until around this time last year. She appeared like some sort of tea ninja from the Internet aether. Simply put, one moment …”POOF!”…there was a WifeyWoman in our midst. The lucky lass was able to attend World Tea East this year, and didn’t want to leave me out of the festivities. A couple of weeks after the convention, she shipped off a care package with samples from the featured wares.

Notable standouts were an English Breakfast variant from Royal Tea of Kenya (my first from the company) and an Assam from Lochan Tea – an Indian op that’d been on my radar for some time. Both teas were manliness personified. Ironic that it took a woman for me to see that.

In short, she’s lovable, she’s adorable…and if you mess with her, you’ll have the full contingent of the Beasts of Brewdom to contend with.

You can follow her teadventures HERE.

Tea For Me Please

Nicole Martin and I share a mutual tea-home in the form of the review site – Teaviews.com. She actually started her own independent tea blog long before I did. I chimed in on it every once in awhile to see if there was something on it I needed to add to my list. She is also in the oenophile business.

I meant to send her a tea care package, but life got in the way. (Hey, November and December suuuucked.) Nicole decided to beat me to the punch and sent off a care package of her own – a few wares from Chicago Tea Garden, including an orange-aged pu-erh that’d been on the illustrious List.

The pu-erh was fantastic and as citrusy as I hoped – not loudly so, but pleasantly understated. The aged, ripe pu-erh started off with a smokey/citrus forefront before melding into more of an earthy profile. Probably one of the more pleasant shou-type pu-erhs to hit my tongue. Grateful doesn’t even cut my reaction for finally having a chance to try it.

I don’t know much about Nicole outside of the tea-ing, but what little I do is ovation-worthy.

You can follow her teadventures HERE.

Head Cheerleader of the Portland Tea Enthusiasts’ Alliance

David Galli and I finally crossed IRL paths in the Fall of this year. Being the more ambitious sort, David had it in his mind to hunt down a tea group. Not being able to locate one, he decided to form one. Through him and his fledgling vision, I experienced something I hadn’t before – having tea with tea friends in real-time. Not just with casual friends who were humoring my absurd hobby.

On our first meet-up, he also imparted a gift from a teashop in New York. Knowing my love for obscure growing regions, he picked up a sizable bag of Guatamalan-grown black from White Heron Tea. I gave the black tea a couple of test-drives before I found the perfect brewing approach.  This was a tea that sorta looked like Japanese kocha, or the aforementioned Daintree, but required a strong brew-beating to bring out its true character. At a boiling temp and a five-minute brew time, the resulting tea was a floral and smoky cup worthy of wake-up.

I’ve got a lot to be thankful for, thanks to this dude. For one…getting me out of the house.

You can follow the Portland Tea Enthusiasts’ Alliance progress HERE.

Or follow David’s own tea musings HERE.

A Gift of Tea

And the last on this list – and the inspiration for the entry’s title – is Jo Johnson, a regular on Tea Trade with a fascinatingly eclectic blog with an alluring focus. On the side, she is also a tea consultant. I envy anyone who can make tea into a viable business model. I certainly haven’t figured out how to do that.

Some weeks back, she sent me the cutest care package imaginable – one bearing the logo of her company and their newly-released children’s book. The World’s Special Tea – by both Jo Johnson and Joya Powell –is a book idea that I wish I’d come up with – a simple-as-could-be history of tea put to poetry. It is sheer genius dipped in honey. The tiny book only took me five minutes to read, but it skirted through the various milestones in leaf-steeping. (The uglier bits were passed over, obviously.)

Included with the book were a custom greeting card and a specialized, kid-friendly rooibos blend to go along with the book. My envy for this approach knows no bounds. Way to go, Jo. I have professional jealousy.

In addition to the “Gift of Tea” stuff was…well…even more tea. Jo passed along some a Shou Mei white, a Phoenix Honey oolong, and an herbal blend. I dipped into the Phoenix Honey while I was writing this – surprisingly zesty for a Chinese oolong. Lasted a good six infusions, too.

Put shortly, she’s a talented and driven woman. I don’t know much more about her than that – which seems to be a running theme for this article – but she’s light-years ahead of me in the life plan department.

You can learn more about her business and book HERE.

You can follow her “scandalous” blog HERE.

And that does it for this entry. I hope you all have a tea-filled holiday – whatever holiday that may be – and that the New Year brings even more steeped goodness. I know mine will.

Monday Morning Tea Errands

By

On December 20, 2011

In Tea Musings

Mondays – for me – usually go something like this: (1) Get off work at 7AM. (2) Head home. (3) Crawl out of work uniform and smother into pajamas. (4) Crank the electric blanket on high and fire up the ol’ Netflix…until I fall asleep. Pretty routine for a night-worker to not want the word “productivity” encroaching on sleep. Yesterday (read: Monday) morning, however, I had to be up and about. And, oddly enough, I was glad of it. These were tea-related errands – my favorite kind – some I had been shirking for one reason or another, others that recently fell into my lap.

This is a breakdown of how that all turned out.

First Errand: Smith HQ

I received an e-mail a week prior from Mrs. Teamaker herself saying there was a package waiting for me at Smith’s. Curiosity baited, I said I would be in that following Monday. An impatient part of me wanted to go in a lot sooner, but I was still fighting the monkey flu from Hades. Waiting until I was more cogent and less – er – phlegmy seemed the better strategy.

Being the punctual not-so-little sprite that I am, I showed up right when the doors opened. My Smith trip this time was threefold. I needed a light-load of caffeine for further errands ahead; for which some White Petal was required. Second, I needed to pick up some chamomile. Sleep was a rare commodity these days, for some reason. Of all the teas in my arsenal, none were straight chamomile. Third, I had to pick up said surprise package.

Smith himself and Tea MC Tiff were on hand when I got there. Steve then lugged over a black back with the company logo on it. Not sure what I did to deserve it, but I manblushed and accepted. After that, I shot the breeze with the Tea MC for an hour over my pot o’ Petal before venturing on to the next task.

Second Errand: Paper Zone

I was in dire need of little plastic baggies in which to carry samples. As far as I knew, only one place clear on the other side of the river carried ‘em. The reason I needed ‘em was simple: Tea swaps. I needed something to ship the leaves in. Dollar Tree sandwich bags – my usual back-up – just screamed, “I’m a cheap-ass!” So close to the holidays, I wanted the delivery presentations to come to be more presentable.

As soon as I entered, a chipper-ish floor person greeted me. I fumbled and studdered my request, and the gal bee-lined to a small aisle near the back. Not only did they have the bags I was looking for, they had different sizes. And the best part? Buying a hundred of them didn’t break the bank. I was in and out in five minutes.

Paper Zone, if you were a girl…I’d marry you on the spot.

Third Errand: Stash Tea Store

Only one place on the Westside carried the next item on my list at a decent price. When I’m at work, I try to rely on loose leaf teas as much as possible. However, I don’t have the luxury of bringing all my brewing equipment with me. A gaiwan simply doesn’t work to well when you’re constantly moving about. As much as it would make some of you, fair tea-readers, cringe…I rely on do-it-yourself teabags. The Japanese foldy kind.

Shut up, they’re awesome.

I can easily store any tea I need for that day, brim a coffee cup with boiling water, and dunk that bad boy. Instant tea-happy. You go with what you can due to time constraints. The nearest place for me to get them is – and has always been – the Stash Tea Store. I’m so glad it’s in my neck o’ the woods.

Funny thing happened, though. As I was ready to check-out at the counter, I asked the aproned teller a question he wasn’t quite prepared for. Although, he initially said something to the contrary.

“I have a strange question,” I started.

“You’d be surprised what I hear,” he said with a smirk.

“Can I take a picture inside?”

“Nope,” he said curtly.

“Oh.”

“Vendors don’t approve of it,” the teller said flatly. “You can take a picture of that wall.”

He pointed at a colorful mural.

“Ah, that’s okay,” I declined.

“Why did you want to?” he asked me in return.

“I’m a blogger,” I replied.

“Uh…huh…” he nodded slowly.

I gave a polite nod and left – inwardly chuckling at the irony that I took a picture with Stash’s former owner in his own shop a mere two hours prior.

Fourth Errand: Post Office

Having acquired the sample bags I wanted, I returned home and began preparing packages. There were seven teas I needed to divvy up between two lovely lady bloggers that showered me with teaffectious awesomeness prior. Returning the favor in as bountiful a way as possible was mandatory. The new bags worked like a charm. Preparing the samples took no time at all. What worried me was the post office.

It was the holidays, and – as expected – traffic was a mess, thanks to last-minute shoppers. I half-expected the line at the local USPS to be equally as hellish. Indeed, when I got there, a line was clear to the door. A funny thing happened, though.

It actually moved. I barely had time to finish addressing the packages before I found my place in the cattle-call of people. For once, the post office was moving – dare I say it – efficiently. Maybe some Power That Be sensed that my caffeine reserves were fading. I was grumbling to myself, after all. Yet I was at the counter in fifteen-to-twenty minutes with nary a curse word parted from my lips.

I returned home accomplished, then went about my delayed post-graveyard shift routine. Jammies and ‘lectric blanky were primed, alarm was set, NyQuil was imbibed…and I was off to dreamland. If this had been any more whimsical a day, I would’ve counted teacups to sleep.

Hark! I Herald Booze Blends

By

On December 13, 2011

In Tea Features

I’ve noticed a particular trend lately – one that I fully encourage and support. Nay, I salute it! Tea and alcohol, while completely opposite beverages on the Sin-o-Meter, pair exceptionally well. Whether it be tea-infused alcohol or alcohol-scented tea, the combination of both bring an added dimension of badass that I fully back. The high-points for me in this new blend-trend have been recorded for posterity on this here site…and waxed non-poetically over the Twitterverse.

Of all the combinations, I ran into a yerba maté variant only once – that being an India Pale Ale brewed with yerba maté leaves. Well, someone finally went the opposite route and used yerba maté as a base for scenting. I had associated with Caleb Brown – purveyor of Handmade Tea – over Twitter for a few months but had never tried any of his wares. His tea business model was a unique one – offering subscriptions to his one-blend-a-month formula. It was a similar approach employed by 52Teas but with more of a personal touch.

Caleb does all the blending himself, and includes the blending ingredients in separate tins for perusal. In addition to that, he sends a personally-stamped letter (for authenticity, I guess?), and films an accompanying video about the tea. That’s a lot of effort for one blend, which is probably why he only does one a month.

December’s offering – dubbed “Hark!” for the impending holiday season – was a yerba maté medley comprised of Vietnamese cinnamon and whole leaf peppermint. The real grab, though (and the reason he contacted me), was what he did with the maté base. He hand-smoked it over whiskey oak chips.

So. Much. Awesome.

Upon opening the tin, the first thing I noted was how strong the peppermint aroma was. That didn’t come as a surprise, but I was worried about it dominating the other elements. There was a smoky presence to the scent as well, which showed in the introduction and after-whiff. Cinnamon was…well…it was understated, and that was fine by me.

The logo-stamped letter came with brewing instructions for the blend, something I greatly appreciated. The recommended approach was the use of up-to-212F water and an infusion time of five minutes. That was about right, given the strong herbals at play here. I measured out a teaspoon and used one 8oz. cup at the time recommended.

The liquor brewed a foggy gold with a boldly minty cloud wafting from the cup. So much for the peppermint being understated. On taste, the first thing to hit me was the feeling of peat smoke – an excellent start. That was followed up by a middle entirely monopolized by the mint. Nothing else had a chance to shine through. However, once that faded a bit, the smokiness returned with a fervor lined with a spicy-sweetness imparted by the cinnamon. Said sweetness had remained as an undercurrent until the right reveal. A very Keemun-like aftertaste; no complaint here.

For s**ts and giggles, I brewed up the whiskey-smoked yerba maté sample by itself. I would’ve been just as happy drinking that as with the fully-blended Hark!. The best part was that it didn’t taste like yerba maté, which – in my opinion – has the flavor of splinters. All that said, this was a festively naughty blend with just the right amount cool cleanliness (thanks to the mint). Like a gentleman’s club lined with holiday décor.

But it does beg the question I want to pose to the “teanut” gallery. What is the consensus regarding the marriage of tea and alcohol? What tea-totalers out there would drink something that’s flavored or scented with beer, wine or liquor? Would an alcohol connoisseur drink something with tea as the added ingredient? And, by proxy, would they drink tea with that same profile?

I straddle the fence of both sides like a village idiot – elixir in hand.

To subscribe to Handmade Tea, go HERE.

In a Pickle

By

On December 5, 2011

In Tea Features, Tea Musings

A week and a half ago, my brother/roommate (bro-mate?) and I decided to grab happy hour and a movie. It was our typical Tuesday outing. The theater in our neck of the woods sold cheap tickets on that day. Cheap food and good microbrews seemed a perfect pre-funk. Even if the movie was bad, the resulting fuzziness could lighten the suck factor.

Not this time, though. My brother had reign over our selection, since last week was my choice (the gods-awful Immortals). And what did he decide upon? Twilight: Breaking Dawn – Part 1. I was dumbfounded.

To be fair, I didn’t loathe the movies as most men do. Well, except the second one; that was pure alien shite. The first, however, was okay…if forgettable. The third – Eclipse – actually appealed to me on a visceral level. To its core, it was a war movie interspersed with crappy romantic moments. It also helped that it was directed by David Slade – an actual horror movie headliner.

This time around…ugh…

I could go on for pages on how awful the movie was. Even by Twilight standards, it was putrid. But that’s a subject for another blog. What I’m here to reflect on is what it did to me; that being, turn me into a blubbering manbitch.

After coming home, my brother and I got into an argument about housework. He commented that I didn’t take the garbage out correctly; I retaliated with something unintelligible. (To his credit, his argument was sound.) This went on for a good twenty minutes before ending in my passive-aggressive silence.

To escape the homebodied tension, I turned to the Internet. Unfortunately, I proceeded to get into a “dildo” fight over Twitter. Worse still? I was taking offense. To the Internet. I shut it off. What the hell was happening?

The realization hit me like a two-ton Avon delivery truck. That crapstain of a movie had vaginalized me. There was no other explanation for the whimpering pile o’ girl parts I was acting like. A cure was needed, something with a manly combination.

What is manly? I thought to myself. Something phallic? No, too gay. Something that implies “phallus”, that could work. What is shaped like a penis? Pickles! Wait, still gay. Okay…something that implies “pickles” that in-turn implies “phallus”…all for the sake of restoring manhood.

Image Owned by Norbu Tea

The answer was simple: Combat femification with something deemed feminine with a manly connotation. It was right in front of me the whole time. That same night, I reached for a bag of “pickle tea”.

To clarify, no, it was not literally tea made from pickles, rather tea leaves that had gone through a fermenting (read: pickling) process. I received a sample from Norbu Tea of a Japanese green tea that’d been on my “WANT!” list for awhile. Funny thing is, before they chimed in, I didn’t even know what the stuff was called. All I knew was that it was barrel-aged…and I wanted it for that very reason. Everything from a barrel was awesome – including monkeys.

The leaves for this stuff were huge, fanned out, lumpy, dark green, and possessed a kelpy aroma. In other words, everything a typical Japanese tea was not. There was even a vinegary aspect to the scent – not quite as offensively so as kombucha, though. Brewing instructions were also thankfully simple. This was a green tea that could take boiling water. Norbu recommended a pre-wash of ten seconds, like with a pu-erh to “open” the leaves, followed by a heaping teaspoon of leaves in a cup of fully-boiled water, infused for up to three minutes.

The result was a liquor that brewed almost completely clear save for a slight tint of yellow-green. Even the palest of white teas were darker by comparison. The aroma, however, betrayed its bold character. And its taste rounded out its odyssey of a profile. Unlike the usual vegetal, nutty, pan-fried-to-hell senchas I’ve had, this citrusy and tangy. I felt relaxed and revitalized, and a slight – er – tickle of pickle showed up on aftertaste.

This was the anti-sencha. Perfect catharsis for a movie outing that reminded me of bad sencha one finds in a conveyor belt sushi restaurant. Nutty and mulchy…like a chick flick that even women wouldn’t touch. I prepared this tea several other times until my testicular fortitude felt renewed. It took a week before I felt completely normal again, but the job was done.

I don’t apologize for being bad at machismo. I don’t regret being a male tea drinker. But I do regret subjecting myself to worst form of movie emasculation ever put to celluloid. As irony would have it, all it took was a tea to bring me out of it.

To buy Norbu Tea’s Awabancha, go HERE.

To Have the new Twilight movie spoiled for you in an entertaining way, go HERE. (There…I just saved you two hours.)

State of the Minion Address

By

On November 22, 2011

In Tea Musings

[Tap-tap] Is this thing on? Okay…

I started this Tea Trade blog in April of this year because of one occurrence – tea was dominating my writing website. My “Steep Stories” category – a section devoted to leafy wonderfulness – needed a new home, one with an appreciation from likeminded folks. The biggest problem it had, though, was its complete lack of focus. It was as if my mind had taken text form. But for some reason, it was met with approval from the burgeoning community.

It was to serve as a Litmus test for my tea writing – to see if it was even plausible to put tea to fiction, musings, and reviews in an interesting way. And – most importantly – gain an audience. However, its biggest hindrance was its disparate narrative. Cohesion was not my strongest suit. I had no clue what my niche was, or what sort of theme the new “Steep Stories” blog would have. Tea fiction really didn’t work as a sole magnifier, rants were few and far between, and I already contributed to two review sites. What would make this blog stand out?

A couple of weeks back, it finally occurred to me that it was developing its own focus. More or less under my notice. The only reviews I posted to the page were teas with unique stories and/or origins to them. I decided I best make it official and finally unveiled the oft-mentioned Tea “WANT!” List – a growing collection of strange new teas I wanted to try before I died. (Okay, yes, it should be called a Tea Bucket List, but that sounds too morbid. “WANT!” just sounds more childlike.) It seemed like a perfect manifesto to springboard from.

Then a funny thing happened. Well…not funny…more like…peculiar.

Yes, this is the *actual* tea inventory stack.

That same week I found myself bombarded. I put in my orders with the two review sites I was a part of, received three-to-four new packages in the mail, and still had to contend with a backlog of review inventory. Yes, I actually had to use the word “inventory”. By last count, the amount of teas I had to plug through had climbed to a staggering fifty-plus.

I know what you’re thinking, We should all have such problems, a**hole!

Believe me, I’m not complaining. I am eternally grateful to the vendors that valued my opinion enough to send me anything. What it did, though, was remind me that I needed to actually keep a schedule. So, I started mapping out what teas were going to what sites. Unique teas would stay on the “Steep Stories” page, manly teas would post to the “Beasts of Brewdom” page, and the reviewer samples would go to the respective sites they were shipped from.

Realistically, I could get through one (maybe two) tea reviews a day. An average write-up took me about an hour or two, depending on type and brewing specs. Blogs were another story entirely. A typical “Steep Stories”/”Beasts of Brewdom” post – with accompanying pictures – took anywhere from four hours…to two days. That’s a hefty chunk of time.

When I thought I had everything mapped out, I noticed a sobering trend. My readership had dropped significantly. Most recent entries were met with deafening silence compared to posts past. That and my own writing site had seen a drop-off by about two hundred views. Tea folk are generally a more polite lot than the rest of the Internet; they won’t outright say, “You suck!” However, no response is a response.  Something was clearly wrong with my new “business” model.

Which brings me to the questions I wanted to pose to you, fair reader(-s?): When you visit this page, what have you come to expect? What works and what doesn’t? What would you like to see more of? What would you like to see less of? Should I leave reviews solely to the review sites – even the unique ones?

Or are you all just shaking your head and thinking, Quit your bitchin’ and get back to “work”.

I ask these out of logical necessity. Contrary to popular belief, blogging is a lot of work. I’m not getting paid for any of this (well…except in tea). Keeping a semi-regular schedule of two-to-three updates a week – on top of a one/two-review-a-day – writing schedule equates to roughly 36 hours. That’s right…a day-and-a-half. Last week alone was two-and-a-half.

Clearly, I’m doing something wrong. I’m just trying to gage what that is, adapt accordingly, and cut corners where I can. I don’t want this to be another tea reflection or review site. There are plenty of other folks on Tea Trade that are far better at those than I. (The Devotea’s Tea Spouts, Lahikma Joe Drinks Tea, The Purrfect Cup, Teaconomics and The SororiTea Sisters come to mind as shining, more worthy examples.) Any feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for listening to my tea-fueled identity crisis.

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