Steep Stories

of the Lazy Literatus

Tag: Bai Mu Dan

The Passing of a Tea Shaman

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On March 24, 2015

In Tea Features, Tea Musings

In 2009, I met an extraordinary man. A legend, really.

smith

He had just opened his newest operation, Steven Smith Teamaker – aptly named after himself. He had reason for such bravado, having co-founded two of the largest tea companies ever. Stash Tea Company and Tazo (pre-Starbucks) were his brainchildren. The man had earned his stripes. And with Smith Tea, he hoped to bring the simple touch of small batch blending back to the forefront.

And – hoo-boy – did he?!

With his wife, Kim DeMent, and a dedicated team, Smith became a recognizable and reliable brand for quality. Much like the man himself. When I first met him, he presided over a tea tasting when I brought friends to the new brick-‘n-mortar Smith HQ. He was humble, humorous, and had the best head of hair of any teaman I’d met, yet.

At the time, my tea discovery was still in its infancy. But as my knowledge grew, I found myself returning to the shop time and again. On a few occasions, as I sat there minding my own business, nursing a pot, he would find time to sit with me and talk. He even let me in on some of the secrets a-brewin’ in their Wonka-esque workshop.

smith hq

A particular favorite of mine was their range of barrel-aged teas. I was one of the first to sample their Methode Noir – a pinot barrel-aged black – as well as one of the first purchasers of their bourbon Assam. Naturally, I wrote about both.

If it wasn’t for him, I don’t think my odd and tangential tea journey would’ve progressed the way it did. I don’t think he was fully aware of this, but he was the reason I started honing my research regarding tea estates and gardens.

I guess one could say if it weren’t for him, his shop, the tea philosophy he cultivated, Steep Stories wouldn’t be what it is today. To date, I think I’ve done more blogs on Smith Tea than I have any other outfit. And there’s a reason for that. Or at least, there was.

On Monday, March 23rd, 2015, Steve Smith succumbed to liver cancer. I found the news out secondhand through a former employee of the company. Naturally, I was shocked. Mouth agape-type shocked, even. My gut reaction, though, was to brew something – anything. Then it occurred to me . . .

I still had some rum barrel-aged white tea Team Smith had produced.

loose

Months back, I negotiated my way to a sample of the stuff, but I never dipped into it. What better time than this? I broke out the Bai Mu Dan leaves, and gave ‘em a good whiff. The aroma was sweet, slightly forest-like, and possessing an undercurrent of – well – rum. Six months of aging will do that to a tea.

The liquor brewed light yellow, giving off a sweet, humble aroma. On sip, it was soft, equally sweet and lingering. Probably the most poetic of the barrel-aged teas they’d released to date. It was the perfect tea to have as a memory to a modern shaman

Every Tuesday, I do cheesy tea haikus. Steve, this haiku’s for you.

haiku

Rest in teas, o’ Peppermint Prince.

Per the Oregonian article on Steve’s passing, his family suggests that those who wish to honor him donate to Mercy Corps’ School Education Retention Program, which aims to help students finish high school in Assam, India.

Tea Wiles in the Wilds of Wyoming

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On September 20, 2012

In Tea Musings

In case it wasn’t evident in my last post, I’m on vacation. Said week-long constitutional has been in the blissfully backward, urbanely anonymous region of Cody, Wyoming. In a peculiar sort of way, I dig the hell out of this high-plain nowheresville. Granted, it’s an historic town. But let’s be honest, it’s historic in the way that no one quite recalls where it is exactly. As a result, it – and the surrounding areas – is beautiful and unfettered. Bighorn Basin beautiful, I’d call it.

What would justify me posting a mere day after my last entry – while on vacation, no less?

Answer: I found tea here. Good tea, even! And in places that no one would find it unless they were actively looking for it.

The entire break from the stresses of my Portlandian life was all thanks (in complete part) to my mother. She downright insisted I visit her and my step-dad, since I hadn’t been back to Cody in two years. There were two places in particular she had to take me. It just so happens, they were well-tea’d, which surprised me in a serendipitous sort of way.

First was a place called Heritage Bakery. My mother was the veritable “Norm Peterson” of the place. They knew her by name. I know what that is like. What I hadn’t expected – beyond the delicious sammiches and cinnamon rolls – was that they rolled out some decent tea as well. My dear Mum went for some White Peony, courtesy of Two Leaves Tea, whereas I went for something a little more lowbrow.

They had sweet tea on the menu and touted that it was done Tennessee-style – water, sugar and Lipton. I’m not normally a Lipton proponent, but it does have its place – iced to submission and laden with sugar. And you know what? I inhaled it with sweet, syrupy glee. The cinnamon roll that accompanied it was equally ‘gasmic, but that’s a subject for a foodie to cover.

In short, I can see why this was her haunt away from home. It would be mine, too. Oh, who am I kidding? I’d be an instant squatter.

The following day, dear Mum made reservations at a teashop she discovered a couple of years ago by accident. It was called the Willow Fence, and when she tried to describe it to me, I was instantly perplexed. She made it sound like a barn brandished with princess tea parlor décor. A year or so later, my sister and I had a chance to visit it…and – I’ll be damned – it was exactly as my mother had elaborated.

I can’t even find the right words to fully do it justice. It was like a set piece straight out of a performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I’m convinced faery folk designed the interior. The colors were all earth tones, tree branches separated tables, and mannequins and tapestries lined the walls. There was no tearoom quite like it.

On our present visit, Mum and I were finally taking advantage of their lunch menu. Tea-wise, she started with a peach rooibos while I settled on a single estate Assam I’d never heard of. Doomur Dullong – even the name sounds like a Klingon phallic rite of passage. The taste was sufficiently malty and manly. There was even an aftertaste of bitter rawhide for good measure. I downed at least two steeps-worth – by the pot!

The Willow Fence lunches and scones were also worthy of mention. I left amiably rollie-pollie, filled to the tummy brim with green bisque soup, grilled cheese sammich, and cranberry scone. Thankfully, I left a smidge of room in one of my love handles for one more cup of Assam before I undulated for the door.

Both Heritage and Willow Fence haven’t been around for very long – less than ten years each. Neither place even has a website, yet. (Heritage has a Facebook page, but with only about fifty-some-odd “Likes”.) If this entry serves any useful purpose, it’s to shine a light on these two off-the-beaten-path tea havens. Should you – fair reader – ever find yourself passing through Cody, Wyoming, and you have a penchant for good tea and good service, give these places a looksy. You’ll be glad ya did. Darn-tootin’, yee-haw…etcetera.

(PS ~ Mum, I love you. This has been a wonderful vacation.)

UPDATE: It has been brought to my attention that The Willow Fence does have a website. You can find it HERE.

I Swoon for Icewine (Tea)

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On June 8, 2011

In Tea Features

Icewine – or eiswein – is an interesting German peculiarity that appeared on the scene some three hundred years ago. Simply put, white wine grapes were plucked in the middle of winter while the juices inside were still frozen. The sugars within were more concentrated as a result. Creating a batch was a labor-intensive process that wasn’t streamlined until the 1960s. Twenty years later, vineyards in Canada collectively said, “Hey, we’re cold as S**T up here. We can totally make this stuff!” And so they did.

Two years ago, the existence of icewine came to my attention by – of all things – a tea blend I happened by in my usual searches for orthodox beverages. What really impressed me was that it was a white tea/grape fusion; I could think of no more magical a combination. But I was lifted from my reverie with a geeky pang – an urge to look up (and eventually try) actual icewine. I’d never heard of such a libation before.

Two weeks ago, an opportunity to try the dessert wine presented itself at – of all things – a Rapture party. From the first sip on, I was hooked. It tasted like mead only sweeter and more nectar-y. Before I knew it, I’d downed the 16(-ish?)oz. bottle. Solo. Even the one glass that the bottle’s owner didn’t finish. Habit-forming? Understatement.

Unfortunately, having icewine everyday didn’t seem like a healthy prospect in the long run – either for my wallet or my liver. As luck would have it, though, a teashop owner in Ontario – dubbed All Things Tea – presented me with an interesting alternative. An icewine white tea blend. My odd little journey had come full circle.

According to All Things Tea, the ingredients for their white blend were Bai Mu Dan (White Peony), Ontario Icewine, and a touch of Reisling. This differed from other icewine/white blends I read about in that there were no grapes, botanicals or flavoring agents included. I was actually relieved to hear that. While White Peony had a lot of flavor to it, when blended, a subtler scenting process was more complimentary. And by whiff alone, I could tell a devil’s deal was struck.

I can’t say that I smelled much of a white tea presence to this batch, but it certainly lived up to its moniker. It boasted its white wine fragrance loudly and proudly. Notes of sour grape, honey, and a mid-point sweetness clobbered my nostrils as I put nose to bag. Given my experience with actual icewine, I had hoped for exactly that type of bluntness with the blend.

Brewing instructions on the bag recommended 1 heaping teaspoon per 6oz. cup of steaming water and a two-minute wait. I tended to aim for an 8oz. cup o’ tea, so I measured off 1 tablespoon instead and went with a 165F water temperature. After splashdown, I steeped the leaves for a good two-and-a-half minutes. It was White Peony; it could take it.

The liquor brewed to an uncanny deep gold. It looked exactly like white wine, save for a slightly lighter palette. The aroma was both sweet and sour, reminding me a bit of lychee. However, the citrus tone was backed up by a smooth texture that completed the wine-like comparison. Some of the natural grape-iness of the White Peony also made its presence known in the finish.

I found this blend’s true calling when I dabbled with ice and a pint glass. After brewing a concentrate of 2 tbsn. of Peony in 8oz. of hot water, I filled a tall glass with ice, then poured the contents over it and stirred. The lovely gold from the heated brew didn’t dissipate one bit – if anything, it shimmered more. On the lips, it truly reminded me of icewine thanks to a honey-ish lean I hadn’t detected in the hot tea version. After a couple of savored sips, I tested out a dash of stevia. No surprise, it sweetened well, too. This is the perfect iced white for summer. What a shock. All the wine taste with none of the headache.

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