Tag: black tea Page 6 of 7

Talks with a Tea Fairy

On November 8, 2013

Over a year ago, I came in contact with a particular gal through another gal. (And I just like using the word “gal”; I don’t care if it sounds old-fashioned.) Tea MC Tiff – who I’ve mentioned on a couple of occasions – made a trip to Kyoto, Japan and visited the Obubu Tea Plantation. While there, she also made contact with one Elyse Petersen – then an intern for Obubu. Elyse was also instrumental in hooking me up with some of the plantation’s sakura blossom tisane.

She found me on Twitter, and we began networking a wee bit. In one such twitversation, she mentioned how she and a few others were starting up their own tea company – Tealet. In passing, she pointed me in the direction of their Kickstarter campaign. I paid it some attention, but…I had no funds to pay. (Perpetually broke and all.) However, I filed them away in my mental archive for future consideration.

945488_656414517708750_226981538_n

Their business model was a unique one, and – I’ll confess – one I didn’t fully understand. (I majored in English, not Economics.) As far as I could comprehend, their goal was threefold – act as an auction house, a monthly subscription service and a wholesaler. Representing whom? This was the kicker: Small farmers.

We on the snootier end of the tea community (and/or circus) always speak in glib terms like “estates”, “farmers”, and “gardens”. Funny thing is, though, most of us haven’t made a whole lot of contact with growers themselves. We rely on larger e-commerce wholesalers and retailers to do the sourcing for us. Even at our most esoteric, we’re lazy like that. In short, we know nothing about the tea except for what’s provided by the middle-folk.

Tealet’s mission was to establish a more direct link between the grower and the consumer, as well as acting as an intermediary between retailer and sourcer. The best part being, the farmers themselves would see a greater share of profit from their wares through Tealet’s business model.

Image mooched from Tealet.com

At least, that’s how my tiny, tea drunk brain understood it.

damaramu

Fast-forward to World Tea Expo in June – the Tea Bloggers Roundtable, to be precise. There was a woman in the audience dressed in a hot pink wig with furry green antennae. The sight made me wonder if the Las Vegas Convention Center was also home to a cosplay event as well. It wasn’t until I was within earshot of the conversation that I learned it was Elyse. And, so, I made my actual, IRL acquaintance with Tealet’s Tea Fairy. (A masterstroke of mascoting, I might add.)

1098082_658331730845414_1705834588_n

In the ensuing months following the Expo, we remained in cursory contact. Nothing big, nothing small. But then I watched an interview podcast she did for Nicole “Tea For Me Please” Martin regarding Tealet. That gave me gumption to check out Tealet’s website again. I was particularly impressed how all the growers Tealet had come in contact with had their own in-depth profiles. The sheer diversity of regions they covered also left me slack-jawed.

I don’t recall exactly how it happened – I may have been tea drunk when I did it – but somewhere down the line, I inquired about the Indonesian teas they’d featured for auction. One was a curled black tea (dubbed Black Pearl) from Mountain Tea; the other was an oolong from PT Harendong. A week or so later, I received samples of those and a few others.

Since I was on a bit of an oolong kick that month, I dug into the PT Harendong one first.

The leaves were traditionally ball-fisted, dark to the appearance – ranging from brown to…uh…browner. By sight and smell, it reminded me of a dark roast Ti Guan Yin, exuding a nutty (if burnt) smell like chestnuts lit on fire. (I like using that term – “lit on fire”. Very apt.)

IMAG1167

I treated this as I would any other oolong, as gongfu (or gongfoolishly) as possible. Several successive infusions – each for twenty seconds or more. The first infusion was somewhat roasty and a wee bit floral. Subsequent infusion took on a roastier, woodsier profile. My favorite was probably the second (at thirty seconds), which took on an almond note on the finish. The whole shebang was very Ti Guan Yin. There are worse teas to be compared to. Generally, I liked it.

The second was a confusing beast of a tea. At first, I thought Mountain Tea (a Taiwanese based grower/retailer) had merely sourced their Black Pearl tea – given that it was from Sumatra. Elyse quickly set me straight, informing me that Mountain Tea had a garden in Indonesia as well. Color me corrected.

When I originally tore open the bag, the first thing I caught a whiff of was chocolate candy. I looked down at the leaves. They were chocolate-colored and ball-fisted, interspersed with bits of stem. The visual and aromatic presentation reminded me of a heavily oxidized oolong from Taiwan.

I used a teaspoon of leaves in a 6oz. gaiwan, and infused them for two-and-a-half minutes in boiled water.

Black Pearl

On the grower’s profile, they said that this tea had a distinct flavor of Washington Red Apples. Yeah right, I thought. Well…color me impressed when I got a sense of apple-like sweetness in the top note. The flavor started with a typical black tea-ish wood-sweet, maybe malty lean – similar to a few Taiwanese blacks, and then just…grew. I’ve tasted teas with nuance, but not very many that changed flavor as I was sipping them. Very beguiling.

If this was merely a prologue of what Tealet had to offer, then they were now permanently on my list. I hear the term “direct-from-the-grower” a lot, but I don’t necessarily believe it until I run into weird s**t like this.

Recently, Tealet finally went live with their wholesale catalogue. Some familiar faces were on the roster, as well as some unfamiliar ones. American ones. Elyse and Team Tealet have been on the forefront of the coverage given to U.S. tea growers, both in Hawaii and beyond. In fact, they just recently finished a cross-country tour of U.S. tea growing regions.

They also put the bug in Jason “FiLoLi Farms” McDonald’s ear to allow participants to adopt tea plants in states not associated with tea growing. Too bad Oregon already had a tea garden. I would’ve been all over that like a stripper to a pole

Bad analogy? Oh well…I didn’t say I was a good English major.

index

Himalayan Gold and The Final “Frontier”

By lazyliteratus

On July 12, 2013

In Tea Features

It isn’t much of a secret that I’ve been without Internet for the better part of a week. I think I made that point relatively clear in several subtle ways via the social media sphere. Eloquently, even.

Okay, okay…I was a whiny little bitch.

pensive

I’ll start from the beginning. After the big move from the house that I’d called home for three years to…an apartment, I decided to go with a company my brother and I used before – Frontier Communications. What I failed to take into account was that the Internet option we used was a direct line to their fiberoptic network – FiOS. The result: Screaming speeds. I was a YouTube-devouring mo-fo for well over a year. Sometimes at the sacrifice of productivity.

At my new apartment complex, we were nowhere near any fiberoptic network. The only option was cable broadband – which I couldn’t afford – or…well, a bunch of other options I couldn’t afford. So, I backpedaled to DSL and hoped for the best. I didn’t realize how spoiled I’d become. Troubles started from Day 1.

First: When I signed up the new account, I didn’t make sure the information they took down was correct. They misspelled my name – horribly. I’ve seen and heard every permutation of “Geoffrey” there is…”Jeffery” was a new one. Not even the J-folk spell it that way.

Second: I failed to realize that our apartment complex had some sort of handshake deal with Comcast. The building’s wiring was tailored to suit their cable broadband. Hell, a Comcast Xfinity truck had a car port near mine – seriously. As a result, the DSL signal that Frontier piped to us got waterlogged.

Had it!

A really knowledgeable tech came out and jury-rigged something to get it working. All was well for about two days. Then the connection went kaput. I secretly believe it was because I used the word “throttle” on Twitter, and that pissed ‘em off. But that’s just paranoia talkin’.

After some attempted modem-juggling, I played phone tag with their tech support. They were about as helpful as plywood. I decided to call the technician directly, and he promptly forwarded the request for immediate assistance. Someone came out later that week, jury-rigged something again, and it’s been working well(-ish?) since. So, Frontier eventually did pay off.

The only reason I maintained my sanity throughout the blackout was…well…good black tea. Let’s face it, moving is stressful, inconsistent, and jarring. I’m a creature of habit, patterns, and highly resistant to change. When even the most basic routine is disrupted, the rest of my tenuous mental/emotional balance topples with it. In this case, regular access to whining about things in writing…on the Internet.

I kept my tea-ing consistent for the whole week. For the ordeal, I went with my trusty sample pack of Nepali Tea Traders Himalayan Gold. I didn’t think it would hold out for the long haul, but there was enough for two pints every morning. For six days.

The leaves were an interesting menagerie of browns, beiges, and charcoal. But the ones that stood out the most were the gold-tipped – true to the moniker. Their aroma was equally as golden – honeynut with a shade of muscatel character, like a Dian Hong fused with a Darjeeling. The liquor brewed up a rather light crimson with a bit of a sweet note on aroma. Taste-wise…I was a little shocked. This resembled a medium-bodied, low-altitude Ceylon – only more sweet than floral. It was definitely orange pekoe-ish through-and-through.

Image Owned by Nepali Tea Traders

The real joy of this Nepalese gem, though, was that it could put up with scatterbrained neglect. There were many mornings and afternoons – as I pondered a life without consistent connection to the e-world – where I forgot about the pint I was steeping. It held up to several ten-minute steeps, and infused a good two times after. Hearty suckers, they were.

As I write this, Internet has been restored. My fingers are still crossed. And I have a good two-pint stash of Himalayan Gold for the following morning. Things could be worse, but just in case…I have a flash drive and a flask for back-up.

n00b

Golden Fleece Feast Fest, A Taste of Eugene, and Tea from Neighbors

By lazyliteratus

On May 9, 2013

In Tea Features, Tea Musings

I might sound like a broken record here, but the last couple of weeks or so have been insane. Moments of import at casa de chaos are innumerable and frustrating…and totally not worth reflecting upon. Instead, I want to pay homage to the good things – the tea trifecta, if you will – that have happened in recent weeks. Starting with…

Ducktales FTW!

Golden Fleece Feast Fest

Nearly a month ago, I lamented via the social mediasphere – like I always do – about everyone’s acquisition of Verdant Tea’s Golden Fleece. I remember everyone extolling its virtues from on high. Envy set in like a car crash. I love Yunnan blacks; I love Yunnan golds more. Unfortunately, it was never in my budget to acquire some – either back then or now.

Ever the tealanthropist, Rachel Carter of IHeartTeas offered to send me a sample of this year’s batch. A couple of others were also including in the gifting. Not sure if I was the first to suggest it, or if someone else whispered in my ear, but the idea to do a “tandem blog” gained favor. I.e. Everyone trying the tea at the same time – discussing it over a chat medium first – then simultaneously posting blogs about their experiences.

Naturally, I agreed to it (or patted myself on the back for the idea, whichever), forgetting one simple thing. I suck at keeping to a deadline, unless I’m being paid for it. Tandem blogging was probably the most antithetical idea I could’ve agreed to or suggested. It didn’t help that I was in the midst of some home-related SNAFUs at the time.

Google+’s Hangout feature was our chosen get-together medium. Participants included: The aforementioned Fleece-gifter, Rachel, Nicole Martin of Tea For Me Please, Jo Johnson of A Gift of Tea, Jackie D (aka. Mrs. Tea Trade), and Darlene Meyers-Perry of The Tea Lover’s Archive. I was the only guy there…and it showed. A joke by me involving the “b-word” in reference to my cat was met with shocked gasps. Sometimes, I should adjust my social filter to “Female”.

That said, it was an extremely animated evening gathering. I was duly caffeinated by the end of it, and equally energized by all the tea talk. As you can tell by the glibness of this post so far, I don’t get to do that very often. Tea gatherings, for me, are like a nerd-geyser going off.

Oh yeah! The tea itself…

IMAG0737

The leaves looked like a Yunnan Jin Cha (or “Gold Bud”) through and through. What was different about these buds, though, were the furs. Yes, these leaf buds still had downy furs present – like a good Yinzhen does. I’ve had many a Yunnan gold, but this was the gold..-iest. (I know, not a word.) Taste-wise, it was smooth, silky, honey-like, and a tad malty on the finish. It lacked some of the peppery lean others of its ilk possess, but that was hardly missed. It was, in a word, perfect. As was the gathering.

Thanks again, Rachel, for the sample and conversation. I’ll do better on the tandeming next time. Er, maybe.

To read Nicole’s take, go HERE.

To read Jo’s take, go HERE.

To read Rachel’s take, go HERE.

To purchase Verdant Tea’s Golden Fleece, go HERE.

A Taste of Eugene

Remember a year or so ago how I wrote about trying a gin barrel-aged oolong beer? You don’t? Well, go HERE, then get back to me. Done? Good. Well, what if I told you that beer had a f**king sequel?!

I found out (again) from Josh Chamberlain of J-TEA that Oakshire Brewing came out with yet another rendition of the Frederic’s Lost Arm. This new one was from the same batch, but instead of a gin barrel, the Oakshire boys aged it for two years in a Pinot Noir barrel – thus dubbing it Frederic C. Noir. Unfortunately, none of the rare bottles were going to make it to Portland.

After a week of himming-and-hawing, I asked the kind folks at 16 Tons if they still had any left available. They said, “Yes.” A split second later I said, “Hold one for me, I’m coming down.” Keep in mind, this shop was in Eugene…which is a two-hour drive from Portland. I decided to devote one of my day’s off to the road trip.

I haven’t tried the beer yet, so that’ll be a subject for another post. What I will share here is my major (and enlightening pit stop) before picking it up. I decided to pre-funk at the very tea shop that provided the oolong for said beer in the first place. I had heard great things about J-TEA, and I’d associated with the owner via Twitter on a few occasions. My first aged oolong ever was acquired there – an aged Dong Fei Mei Ren (Oriental Beauty/Bai Hao) oolong. Loved that stuff.

Never heard of the place? Well, it’s the shop in Oregon for the aged oolong crowd. Josh’s selection is probably the most extensive I’ve come across. My main reason for going – other than picking at Josh’s brain – was to sample some 20-year-aged Baozhongs.

IMAG0746

Josh was kind of to preside over a taste comparison between a 1984 and 1989 Baozhong offering. Both were exquisitely herbaceous and strangely calming. I’m sure that “calm wakefulness” crap that tea folks talk about stems from trying aged oolongs. I didn’t feel too wired, just…aware. Of the two, the ’84 was a clear favorite; there was something deeper at play in that cup. Not sure how to properly explain it, something just clicked with me.

The second treat he dished out was one I had inquired about several months prior. For a Black Friday event, Josh had processed some leaves he picked from Minto Island Growers into a black tea. For those not familiar with MIG, they’re an outfit with a section of garden devoted to tea varietals in Oregon. Yes, you heard right. Tea plants in Oregon! And lucky for me, there was still some of J-TEA’s black experiment left.

IMAG0747

What can I say, it was darn near perfect, and note-for-note like a Taiwanese Ruby 18. The cuppa was chewy and chocolaty with an odd floral sensation in the top note. I instantly wanted more. Since there wasn’t a lot to go around, J let me keep the leaves to re-steep. Which I did. Four times. Those suckers were resilient.

I made a purchase of some ’09 Li Shan black, and settled my bill for the tea tasters o’ awesomeness. Before I left for the beer leg of my journey, we went on a dialogue tangent about barrel-aged teas. Right as I was about to leave, Josh mentioned in passing, “I acquired a bourbon barrel from Kentucky.”

Damn it. The man knows my weakness.

To check out J-TEA’s selection of aged oolongs, go HERE.

For their selection of black teas, go HERE.

It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

The first weekend of every month starts with an event in our neighborhood simply known as “Beer Night”. I know, clever. Each month has a theme. Some notable ones from the past months were “Weird Beers”, “Foreign Beers”, “Wheat Beers”, and so on. This month, it was “Beer Cocktails”…and I had no idea what I was going to contribute. Initially, I was going to offer up my tea-beer experiment, but the weather was too hot to justify it. As a result, I decided to skip out on it.

Both my neighbor Tim and my brother talked me out of it, and – truthfully – it didn’t take a lot of arm-twisting. It’s beer. Good beer. And good people. I would eventually give in.

Neighbor Tim and his wife, Katie, had just returned from Ethiopia to meet twins they were adopting. Before they left, I texted Tim as an afterthought, “If you can, pick up some Ethiopian-grown tea!” I knew the stuff existed after a conversation with Cinnabar Gong Fu of Phoenix Tea from a couple of years back. While not officially on the “Tea WANT!” list, it was a contender.

Well, when I got to the barbeque with my brother, Tim’s wife came up to me and said they had picked up nearly a kilo of Ethiopian tea. I was shocked by the amount she signified…until she told me how cheap it was. At the end of the gathering, Tim gifted me with 100 grams of it.

IMAG0755

And I tried it the next morning.

It’s not a complex tea by any stretch. If anything, because of the thin (practically fannings) cut of the leaves, the liquor had a lot in common with cheap Rize-grown Turkish black tea or like products from Guatemala or Bolivia. However, it wasn’t as astringent as the South American stuff, or as sweet as the Turkish, but very reminiscent of Australian Daintree.

The best part? It iced well. My god, did it ice well.

IMAG0756

What? I’m an American. We do that here.

In closing, I suppose I can sum up that the best and simplest things in life fall back to good tea and good people. Well, for those of us that like tea. And people. Jury’s still out on the “people” part, but so far, I’ve had pretty good luck.

High-Fives to O5 and a World Tea Expo Update

By lazyliteratus

On February 11, 2013

In Tea Musings

Late last week, I received a package in the mail. A tea delivery – my favorite kind.

o5 Tea

This was the last of my frivolous tea purchases for a while. The reason? I was in hunker-down mode for financial reasons. Before that declaration, I had made one last buy of some rare and unique offerings from a tea bar in Vancouver, B.C. called O5 Tea. There was no way I was missing out on a wine-casked Nepalese black from an estate I’d never heard of.

When this (and a few others) finally arrived, it was my intent to wait until a special occasion to cup it. Either that, or as a reward for a job well done on…something. Well, I didn’t hold out that long. A mere week after, I tore into it. And, boy, was I glad I did.

Justifying the cupping reward as payment for a hard work week endured, I brewed a pint of this sucker. It was nice to see other tea vendors answering my indirect call for more alcohol barrel-aged teas. So far, only Smith Teamaker had done it to any degree. Others had merely added alcohol flavoring. That was no fun. The joy was in the scenting of teas.

This wine-casked Ghorka estate autumn flush wasn’t as strong on the winy note as I was expecting, but part of that could’ve been due to the tea base used. A lot of Himalayan teas are naturally muscatel-ish to the palate. So, any wine-grapiness might be dulled by the flavor the leaves already impart. That said, I did pick up a bit of Cabernet Franc on the aftertaste. A second steep confirmed my suspicions.

ghorka

While I was in the middle of my second pint, I decided to give my Dad a call. I hadn’t spoken to him for well over two months. Neglectful in my sonly duties, I decided to rectify that. Amidst the conversation, I casually mentioned I had won an iPad from my work.

He said, “Y’know, you should give that to your dear ol’ Dad.”

“Fat chance,” I replied.

“Okay, I’ll buy it off of you.”

That triggered something.

I hadn’t even opened the iPad since I got it over a week ago. Truth be told, I wasn’t even sure I wanted it. The only use I had for it would’ve been as a word processor, but that would’ve required the additional purchase of a keyboard and stand.

Coupled with that was the fact that I was trying to save money for a trip to Vegas in June for World Tea Expo. I had no idea how I was going to pull that off, given the fact that I lived from paycheck to paycheck. My Dad’s offer changed all that. There was my ticket to Vegas.

So…

The wine-casked tea wasn’t the reward for a job well done, but it was the prologue to something wonderful. The Tea Fates are smiling on me. And I’m returning the gesture with cup (and eyebrow) raised.

Noel

Tea Pairing with Job Hunting

By lazyliteratus

On October 24, 2012

In Tea Musings

The idea for this entry was suggested by my mother, as great ideas often are. It never occurred to me to pair tea with job hunting until she posed the idea after reading my tea-fueled rant. This reflection has – in no way – any science to back it up, just anecdotal “evidence”. Trial and error, hypotheses, and conjectures also played key roles in the missive. Oh, and oolong. Lots and lots of oolong.

Let’s begin.

Getting Started

As an unemployed person, one of the most difficult tasks is literally getting out of bed. Let’s face it, joblessness is depressing. Why does someone want to get started when it feels like their world is ending? The key is a self-fueled kick in the pants.

I’ve personally found that having a morning routine helps to motivate one away from the comfort of a ‘lectric blanky. Getting your day going as if you already have a job puts you in the right frame of mind to look for one. Shaving helps, too (for either gender). And for the love of God, put pants on!

Possible Tea Pairing:

Caffeine is required – lots of it. You need something that’ll give you an extra oomph! My personal recommendation is Assam. Better yet? Assam with some Lapsang Souchong sprinkled in. Nothing says, “Wake the f**k up!” like a caffeinated kick o’ campfire.

Writing a Resume and Cover Letter

If you – fair reader – are anything like me, you hate writing about yourself in a clinical manner. The urge to self-deprecate is a strong one. Same with wanting to sell yourself short. Some have a magical grasp of inflating their accomplishments; I am not one of them. Plus, I’m not very good at summarizing my abilities and accolades (whatever they are) concisely.

The importance is to consult others that have some expertise in these areas – people who’ve either submitted several times, or have a surefire approach. I’ve learned that submitting a resume or cover letter blindly, without having someone looking it over, is like turning in an obituary.

However, you don’t want to be too wired while you’re doing it. I’ve found that these two exercises require a lot of patience, or rather “calm wakefulness”.

Possible Tea Pairing:

I’m taking a page right out of Lindsey Goodwin’s recommendations by saying the best tea for writing is oolong. Sure, it’s caffeinated. And – depending on the sourcing – it can be strong. Yet I feel it truly gives someone a time-released dose of wake-up-call. Enough to instill a sense of focus. I turn to a good oolong – gongfu-ishly-styled – when I’m in the middle of a writing project. And believe me…resumes are a project.

Pounding the Pavement

As much as I hate to admit it, networking is the lifeblood of the job search. Talking to people, keeping your ears open, going from shop-to-shop, doing informational interviews, and putting yourself out there are mandatory. Ever hear that phrase, “It’s who you know…”

I’ll be damned if it ain’t correct.

Possible Tea Pairing:

Anything aged. In my experienced, teas – whether they’re oolongs, pu-erhs, black teas, or whites – that have at least five years on ‘em are eerily soothing. Sometimes they might actually taste as old as they are, but one thing can’t be denied. They make your brain feel like it’s sitting on a park bench feeding pigeons. Even when you’re doing something as socially uncomfortable as talking to people.

Just resist the urge to yell, “Get off my lawn!”

Interview Hell

Congrats! You’ve made it to an actual interview. Someone has taken the time out of their busy schedule to interrogate you for thirty minutes to an hour. But you don’t want to come across as a complete tool. (Unless they’re looking for someone useful.)

There are tips and guides aplenty on how to prepare for an interview. I’ve personally found that dressing to the nines doesn’t hurt your prospects. Where I’ve tended to fail, though, is in the verbal delivery. You don’t want to talk too fast or sound too deliberate. That and you want to have answers to questions prepared – in your mind, anyway. (Note: Do not bring cue cards.)

Some unorthodox methods for confidence and relaxation I’ve heard are: (1) Doing push-ups before an interview. Sound – if odd – advice from my brother. (2) Giving yourself an affirmation speech in the mirror. I do this. (3) Talking to someone before you leave for the interview. I’ve found that parents help. (4) Having a theme song. Okay, I made that last one up. Still, that’d be pretty sweet.

Possible Tea Pairng:

Gotta go green or white here. I made the mistake of having a pint of Earl Grey before an interview. At a tearoom, no less. The result? I was a motormouth, talking a mile a minute. My posture was equally off-putting – hunched over, feet tamping nervously. In other words, the less caffeine, the better. If you want to split the difference – a heartily brewed Bai Mu Dan should do the trick.

Rinse and Repeat

Your day is done. You’ve talked to people, made the rounds, applied for new jobs, and now all you want to do is relax. A cup o’ something herbal will work wonders. Pat yourself on the back…because guess what?

You get to do the whole thing again tomorrow.

Acknowledgements

I’d like to thank my mother for this idea. Do me a favor and like her career advice page on Facebook – Careers/College Not By Chance – HERE. She is an invaluable resource.

Much obliged.

Meeting a Tea Moment

By lazyliteratus

On October 10, 2012

In Tea Musings

Sometimes – just sometimes – Twitter is steeped in awesome. A fellow tea blogger – Jen of An International Tea Moment – reached out to the Twit-o’-Sphere to see if there were any decent tearooms in Portland. Another fellow tea blogger – Nicole of Tea For Me Please – directed her to me. Because…apparently, I’m the go-to guy for Portland tea-binging. I passed along some suggestions and inquired about what was bringing her to my corner of the ‘burb. Tea Moment Jen replied that she was in town on a business trip and had a smidge of time to track down some good tea.

Naturally, I calmly and professionally suggested we should meet up.

She obliged, and we traded contact info to see if it was in the cards. We agreed that Tea Chai Te was a good enough place for a hypothetical meet-and-greet. I hadn’t been there in well over a year.

The next day, while awaiting the possible tea-chime, I started my “morning” with a Nilgiri green and cereal. It was far stronger than I anticipated, leaving me practically bouncing off the walls. (Er…in my mind.) Roughly around noon, Tea Moment Jen texted informing me that she was on her way from the airport to Tea Chai Te. I took off like a bat outta hell, outright ignoring certain traffic laws.

Tea Chai Te is a curious little tearoom situated in Portland’s Pearl District – right off of NW 23^rd, or “Trendy”-Third as the locals call it. It’s urban to the core, small, but oozes adorability. Early on in my tea exploration, I was a frequenter of the place. Somehow, though, my visits became fewer and far between. Probably because I had tea dates there that didn’t go so well.

I arrived in roughly fifteen-ish minutes – record time for such a trek – and found Tea Moment Jen sitting in a corner with soup and teapot. I scissored my way past a couple of hipsters and clumsily introduced myself. She did likewise with far better poise. I excused myself for a moment to order a pint of something dark.

First question out of her mouth (like any good tea geek) was, “What did you order?”

“The Zhen Qu Gold Buds,” I replied.

Her eyes widened. “That’s what I ordered!”

Badass, I thought.

How was Tea Moment Jen in person? Just as elegant and eloquent as her blog indicates her to be. We discussed everything under the sun from favorite teas, Russia, how we got into tea, to how awesome Jo Johnson is, to tea vendors we liked. The conversation ran the entire tea-ish gamut. I was talking a mile a minute like a hyper-caffeinated motormouth.

After about an hour, though, we had to part ways. I left feeling accomplished, enlightened, and…bouncy. (Damn you, Zhen Qu!) While brief, the outing was beautiful and badassery-incarnate. Another blogger friend notched off the “tea-in-real-life” list.

Kindly ignore my obvious bed-hair.

Orange You Glad I Broke My Pekoe in Portugal?

By lazyliteratus

On May 23, 2012

In Tea Features

I looked out the window today and thought to myself, I need a f**king vacation. Okay, everyone thinks that at one time or another, and I guess my long spat of unemployment last year was “kind of” a vacation. What I mean, though, is an actual break from it all in another place other than my house…in my room…at my computer. The Internet is not a vacation

Over the last couple of years, I have been “seeeecretly” planning my dream vacation. If I ever won the lottery, or came into some mysterious form of capital, or ended up at the beckon call of a pudgy-geek-loving sugarmomma…no one would see me for at least a year. Funny thing is (but not entirely unexpected), all my vacation stops would focus on tea, or more to the point, tea-growing regions.

My first stops would be the growers in the U.S., because – well – it’s A-MURR-ican tea gash-durrrnit! First, Skagit Valley for a jaunt to the Sakuma Bros. farm. It’s close-ish to my stomping grounds, and I tried their white tea and loved it. Second, Charleston, South Carolina, and a stop off at the Bigelow-owned tea plantation there. Then it’s across the pond to Cornwall, Great Britain for a tour of the Tregothnan estate. After that, my next phase was to hit the Rize region of Turkey before trekking to Georgia…but that notion has changed a tad.

Blame Portugal.

I first learned of the Gorreana Estate through my contributions to the review blog – It’s All About the Leaf. It’s my third (or fourth?) home for all things leaf-related. They received several offerings from the Azores-located estate – both bagged and loose. A new growing region?! SOLD! I put in a request for their loose-leaf green and loose orange pekoe. Alas, I was tied with another reviewer for the request. The site administrator – great guy – divvied up the spoils. I got the bagged OP and the loose green – a Hysson. The other got the pekoe. In short, both were wonderful.

Yet my palate and curiosity were not quite sated. I still had it in mind to one day track down the loose-leaf version of their flagship pekoe. By a stroke of luck, fate, or just plain randomness, I didn’t have to wait that long. The reason?

If there’s something unique I haven’t tried yet – be it food or drink – I have a tendency to whine about it. Not just vocally in real life, I also take to social media and let my lament be known. In my Twitter whining (Twhining?), Gorreana caught wind of my desire and offered to send me some. Not just their regular Orange Pekoe, but their Broken Leaf black tea as well. My glee was most apparent.

My thoughts were thus:

Orange Pekoe

First off, I can say that this was one beautiful looking tea – just on the dry presentation. The leaves were long, rolled, and ranging from tippy gold to dark brown. It looked like an autumn flush Darjeeling, only more even. That and it had the most wonderful aroma – both sweet, slightly malty, and earthy. I treated it like a normal OP and brewed 1 tsp. in 8oz. of boiled water, steeped for two-and-a-half minutes.

The liquor brewed to a light crimson color – a tad darker than most spring pekoes, but just right for summer. The aroma was sweet, honey-like, with a vague woodiness on the back-whiff. On taste, there’s not much to say other than, “Wow!” It was creamy on the forefront, sweet and vaguely citrusy in the middle, and it tapered off with earthiness like a Yunnan Dian Hong. A second steep was a bit more astringent than the first, but still well beyond drinkable – maintaining that sweet sensation throughout.

Broken Leaf

Color-wise, the dry leaves looked just like the OP – gold, beige, brown, crimson (?) – but they were…well…broken. The only long pieces in the fray were the stems. I didn’t mind one bit because the aromatic character had also changed. Instead of a likeness to an autumn flush Darjeeling, the cut leaves imparted a Ceylon-ish experience. I whiffed a bit of malt, flowers, and citrus. Very spry and sharp.

Regardless of the smaller cut of the leaves, the liquor brewed much lighter than the regular OP – more amber, less crimson. That and the aroma was all sweetness and citrus. The taste echoed the citrus comparison even further with a hint of grapefruit and mandarin on the forefront, followed by a floral top note reminiscent of lemon verbena. Flavor tapered off eventually with a hint of dryness. Still, it was a very summery cup and made me think “Viva Portugal” more so than the flagship OP.

The result? My imaginary vacation has been detoured. After Tregothnan, I’m heading straight for the Azores. The real problem is whether or not I’d ever leave. I mean, it’s gorgeous, the tea is good, and…well…Turkey is really far. And I’m the sleepy sort. Which reminds me, it’s back to dreaming about my tea vacation again. Don’t wake me unless the house is on fire…or a Lotto girl is at the door.

To buy the Gorreana Estate Orange Pekoe, go HERE.

To buy the Gorreana Estate Broken Leaf, go HERE.

You’ve Probably Never Heard of this Tea Before

By lazyliteratus

On May 8, 2012

In Tea Features, Tea Musings

One particular evening, a friend of mine and I were conversing over beers. (Isn’t that when the best conversations happen?) The topic of hipsterdom came up. Being residents of the greater Portland area, we were bombarded with them regularly. The “anti”-clique made P-Town one of its ironic bases of operations. Funny thing, though, no one who is a hipster actually thinks they are one.

Case in point, my friend actually said – paraphrased greatly, “You exhibit hipster traits.”

“I do not!” I remember whinily protesting. “I’m a geek through-and-through.”

“Yes, but you complain about the current brand of geeks.”

Egad, he was right.

Heck, there were some mornings when I woke up with my hair in a makeshift mockery of a faux-hawk. I slept in out-of-season holiday pajamas. The irony wasn’t completely lost on me. That trend toward…well…trend-avoidance carried over to other aspects of my life.

Topics of geek esoterica – anime, British sci-fi, comic book movies, video games, even Bollywood (???) – all of those bits of outer-subculture I cradled had become…mainstream. In the ensuing years, I had some semblance of an identity crisis. What were “old school” geeks supposed to latch onto if their badge/identity was compromised by normalcy?

Somehow, someway, my attentions gravitated to a beverage. Tea became my solace, my self-actualization, my subcultural haven. NO one in my greater circle was into that sorta thing. Obscurity: Achieved! But that wasn’t enough.

Eventually, I did run into like-minded tea drinkers in my online perusal – the extent of which were far more knowledgeable than I ever could be. As a result, I had to find a niche; some sort of tea-ish focus that set me apart. I would say I stumbled upon it by accident.

My goal was to track down new and obscure teas from odd growing regions, and catalog them accordingly. That pursuit launched the (desperately-in-need-of-updating) “Tea WANT!” list. However, even that list wasn’t enough. I could barely keep up with all the new and exciting teas brought to my meta-hipstery focus.

And – in a clunky segue – I would like to highlight a couple examples:

I practically begged a fellow tea blogger for a sample of this. They were able to acquire this black tea through an offer put forth by the YaYa Teahouse in New Zealand. The Zealong folks – yes, the “oolong from MIDDLE-EARTH!” producers – were playing around with fully-oxidized teas now. It was new, it was obscure; it met my M.O.

The smell was chocolate. No other way to put it – chocolate and a residual woodiness. The leaves themselves looked like the shavings of a tree that had caught fire. Pure awesome. The taste, however, was surprisingly light compared to the burly aroma. The liquor brewed to a mid-amber color with a floral, Ceylon-ish nose. The taste was almost note-for-note a Taiwanese Ruby black, save for less mintiness. It was light with no tannic bite, and a hint of malt on the back. A second infusion – which I did as a fluke – turned up really surprising results – with a citrus lean on the front and a crisp trail-off, more in line with a Dan Cong oolong.

I picked this up on my “Teattle” trip to the Phoenix Teahouse. It deserved a feature of its own due to its origin story. Koreans – like the Japanese – aren’t known for their black teas; they’re mainly associated with high-quality (and highly expensive) green teas. All produced in small batches. When I saw this single origin “Dan-Cha” black (sorry, “red”…and the reason for the above image) tea on their site, it was one I had to try. I ended up walking out with an ounce of the stuff.

The leaves for this didn’t differ at all from the usual, run-of-the-mill black tea fair. They were dark, they were twisty – carry on. The aroma, however, was unusual – evoking mint, nuts, a hint of caramel and some other unidentifiable feelings. It was really hard to pinpoint what it reminded me of; it was its own beast. The liquor brewed straight amber with an aroma that reminded me of pine needles on a Douglas Fir, for some reason. The taste was, well, incomparable. It was floral, sour, minty, sometimes sweet, never bitter, and it kept changing per sip. I have no basis for comparison. Wonderful, nonetheless.

So, here I sit, in my holiday pajamas – hard-pressed to think of a proper lesson learned from my quirky hobby. Oh wait…no…I do know. I’m not a hipster. Heck, there’s nothing hip about me. I drink tea, I write, I watch cheesy movies, and going outside requires too much effort most times. My desire to be obscure and my whining about being into something before the herd don’t stem from a need for self-identity.

I’m not a hipster. I’m just old.

Now get off my lawn.

Running for Kenyan Gold

By lazyliteratus

On November 10, 2011

In Tea Features

This has unofficially become “Kenya Week” here at my lazy ol’ tea blog. It wasn’t intentional, but given that I have three Kenyan teas to notch off, it seemed only fitting that I theme a week around them. Today’s steep is a tea I actually received before the Purple Tea of Kenya. The purveyor of Phoenix Tea caught wind of my love for teas with the word “Gold” in them and (basically) said, “You ain’t tried nothin’ yet.”

Only…more eloquently, of course.

Royal Gold Safari was a “tribute tea” that was developed in honor of Professor Wangari Muta Maathi. She was the first African woman (an environmentalist) to win the Nobel Peace Prize. Also to her credit was being the first East or Central African woman to earn a doctorate.

Mooched from the Nobel Prize site

This – like the Purble Tea I tried – was sourced from wholesaler, Royal Tea of Kenya. What I found funny was that it wasn’t listed among the available products on the RTK site. My only guess for this was that it was a rare tippy black tea only handed out for connoisseur-related consideration. Heck if I know. Not sure I’d call myself a connoisseur, but I know my gold teas…and this was one fine specimen.

On appearance, it looked like a Yunnan Jin Cha. The batch was mostly gold-tipped, curly leaves interspersed with the occasional brown-black pieces. The aroma wafting from the bag was peppery, sweet and caramel-like. On a blind whiff, I wouldn’t have been able to tell it apart from its distant Yunnan cousin. If there was one key difference in the fragrance, it was the berry-like lean – more like a greener oolong.

(Sidenote: I even had my brother/roommate smell it. His exact reply was, “It smells like Fruit Loops.” Well put.)

I couldn’t find any brewing instructions on the Phoenix Tea page or the RTK site. Best bet for Yunnan Golds was a three-minute steep in 195F-ish (almost boiled) water – 1 heaping teaspoon in 8oz. It was a little difficult to measure out just a teaspoon with how long these leaves were; the attempt came out looking more like a tablespoon. However, I thought it turned out right.

The liquor brewed to a…well…no other way to put it. It brewed GOLD! Bright, shiny, dazzling gold. It was a very light – and very bright – black tea. That same berry-sweet aroma remained with the liquid form, but not quite as strong. It was the flavor that was really surprising, though. The mouth feel was lighter than a Yunnan Gold – not as bold of a nectarine presence – but it possessed a floral introduction with a buttery after-effect. It was like drinking a Ceylon oolong (although I’ve never tried one). In fact, everything about this first infusion was very oolong-ish. I would even say close to a Dan Cong in character.

A second infusion at a full five minutes turned up an amber-colored brew with a stronger, honeyed-apple aroma. The taste was crisper, not quite as creamy, yet the same fruit-sweet savoriness remained. It took an uncontrolled brew-beating and still turned out wonderful – a telling trait of a burly black tea.

I’m not quite sure this surpasses the best Yunnan Golds I’ve tried. And, believe me, I’ve had a lot of those. But the experience this offers up is something quite unique. If this blog is proof of anything, it’s that I treasure unique teas. This is a fantastic tippy tribute tea if ever there was one.

To purchase Phoenix Tea Shop’s Royal Gold Safari, go HERE.

Iran So Far for…Tea

By lazyliteratus

On September 6, 2011

In Tea Features

Some time ago, I made a necessary pit stop to The Jasmine Pearl, a teashop owned by a very nice couple in Northeast Portland. I had been in before, and they were one of the few places I could pick up Yunnan-grown “Golden Needles” at a decent price. It was the perfect black tea, the shop was perfectly close, and I was perfectly broke; it worked itself out.

While conversing with the owners over a cup of GABA oolong, they made mention of a friend in Iran who was bringing back some Persian-grown tea. I thought they had said “pearls tea” at first. My ears burned when they corrected me. My “Tea WANT!” list wasn’t entirely in dire need of new additions, but the idea of tea from a growing region I wasn’t familiar with peaked my interest. Up to that point, all I knew about Persian tea was the way they served it – steeped in enough sugar to make a Southern belle blush.

When I returned home, I immediately went to digging up information about Iran’s tea history. My occidental notions of a backward country in the middle of the desert surrounded by rugs and dervishes were “a tad” inaccurate. Iran actually had a rather rich tea history, thanks to its close proximity to China – one that pre-dated European interest by a good 200 years. The town of Lahijan in the north even had their own Robert Fortune-type character. The biggest irony was that he stole seedlings from the British in India…who – in turn – had originally stolen from the Chinese.

Cultivation in Gilan province began roughly around 1900, while the first modern tea factory was built some thirty-ish years later. To this day, Iran alone produces 60,000 tons of black tea a year. The biggest tragedy, though, is that the U.S. sees nary a leaf of it. If it isn’t readily apparent to you, fair reader, relations between the United States and Iran are piss-poor at best. Reasons for this are quite valid, and I won’t go into any of that here. This is a tea blog, not a political soapbox.

It’s not entirely impossible to acquire Iranian-grown tea as an American, but chances are one would have to turn to an international site. And strong though my tea itch was, international shipping charges did much to quell the urge. That, however, didn’t stop me from posting several whiny forum queries wondering where I could acquire some without having to pound at an embargo.

Enter TeaGeek.net. Yet again.

Again, Michael J. Coffey – that sleuth of the steep – chimed in with a proverbial, “I got what’choo NEED!” (Yes, I can even hear him pounding the pavement with a pimp cane while saying that.)

Available exclusively to TeaGeek members was a tea gained through mysterious methods dubbed “Treasure of Persia”. He mentioned he’d received it in an unnamed plastic bag, and the route used to obtain it made some drug deals pale by comparison. That made this one-off sample all the more interesting.

The leaves for this were jet black, long, wide, and oozing with malt-scent. The aroma reminded me of chocolate covered berries mixed with dry smoke. In appearance, they resembled another TeaGeek score – the old-woman-handmade Georgian tea I had. They even smelled alike. For a moment there, I wondered if a fast one had been pulled on us. On close inspection, though, there were subtle differences. The cut of the Persian leaves were smaller, the rolling method seemed different, and the leaves weren’t as tippy as the Georgian. Strikingly similar, but still different beasts.

There weren’t any established brewing instructions for this, so I had to go with what I was familiar with. Like the Georgian, this looked strong enough to take a four-minute steep, but I wasn’t sure what leaf amount to use. I went balls-in with a tablespoon-worth steeped in 8oz of boiling water for the allotted four.

The result was an amber-ish liquor with a dry and smoky nose, not unlike Russian Caravan or a subtle Taiwanese Lapsang Souchong. They certainly had my attention with whiff alone. On taste, the impression shifted ever-so-awesomely to a sip with a nutty forefront. That was quickly followed up with a fruity segue to a malty middle. As far as the finish was concerned, it was all Cavendish smokiness that tapered off handsomely.

Do you know how this tea made me feel? Like I was sitting on a weather-worn rock bedazzled in jewels, silks, and gold-trimmed whatevers while Disney-esque Jasmine-like maidens fanned large feathers at me. Oh, and there was an elephant for shade because…well…all Persian fantasies require an elephant. This didn’t even need to be sweetened to death in the typical Persian tea style, but I’m sure the approach would work wonders. A very outstanding cup of U.S.-embargoed hotness.

For more information from the TeaGeek, go HERE.

The inspiration for the “punny” title of this blog can be found HERE. Don’t watch if you have no sense of humor.