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Tag: Smith Teamaker

“Silver and Smoke” – The Changing Face of Lapsang Souchong, Part 1

By

On February 5, 2014

In Tea Musings

This is the first installment in a trilogy of posts about Lapsang Souchong.

The Changing Face of Lapsang Souchong, Part 1: “Silver and Smoke”

Tong Mu Guan is a village on Wu Yi Shan (read: “mountain”) in Fujian province, China. It is considered the birthplace of modern day black tea. As legend has it, the first black tea (or hong cha/”red tea”) was produced by quickening the drying process by smoking the tea over wet pinewood. The result was something dubbed “Bohea”, at the time – a term that referred to simple low-to-mid-grade black tea in the 18th and 19th century.

Image mooched from (and owned by) Canton Tea Co.

Image mooched from (and owned by) Canton Tea Co.

Another variant came to pass, which was more smoked than Bohea – utilizing a process involving dried pinewood. That resulted in the campfire-tasting beverage known as Zheng Shan Xiao Zhong, or more commonly referred to as Lapsang Souchong. There are many stories regarding its origin, some involving armies staying and armies passing through, but the end result is the same – heavily pine-smoked black tea that sold well abroad.

Lapsang Souchong is a love-it or hate-it affair. Believe it or not, the first Lapsang I ever bought was from the original Tong Mu village. I didn’t understand at the time how great a privilege that was. And I hated it. It tasted stale and burnt – old, even.

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Later on down the line, I tried another Lapsang Souchong not from Tong Mu. Loved every sip of it. The hickory flavor gelled with me. Since then, every smoked tea variant I’ve consumed has been a pyromaniac’s palatial love affair.

Sometime in 2011, I happened across another Tong Mu-made black tea called Jin Jun Mei – roughly translated, “Golden Beautiful Eyebrow”. It was reedy-looking, gold-tipped like a Yunnan Jin Cha, and very young-seeming. I could tell they were young buds by the presence of some furs. Funny thing is, though, I don’t remember much about it other than it reminding me of Golden Monkey – another Fujian province black. Other than acknowledging its immediate deliciousness, I didn’t find anything extraordinary about it.

Then I read an article by Austin Hodge of Seven Cups. Apparently, I had tasted one of the rarest, most in-demand teas in the world. And it had wiped out Lapsang Souchong production in Tong Mu village. I will confess to having wept a wee bit while reading it.

Sad Smokey

Around the same time, Smith Teamaker’s tech guru, Alex, had teased me with a smoked tea sample they got in. I immediately hunted him and it down within that week. They gifted me a couple of servings of the stuff. The name for it was Yin Jun Mei.

This required some research. Putting my geek cap on, I looked up whatever information I could find on it. While doing so, I kept finding its name tied inexplicably with Jin Jun Mei. Both were considered Lapsang Souchong, and both hailed from Tong Mu. Apparently, Yin Jun Mei (read: “Silver Beautiful Eyebrow) was Jin Jun Mei’s lightly-smoked sibling. Whereas Jin wasn’t smoked at all, Yin underwent a process similar to traditional Bohea – smoked over wet pinewood, resulting in a subtler smoky taste.

I brewed it up the next day to find out.

The leaves had no silver tips among them, as the name would imply, but rather gold tips. They were small, curly and ranged from brown to gold. The overall appearance reminded me of Golden Monkey – only darker. I didn’t get much of an aroma from the sample, other than a scant shade of wood and malt. No actual smoky sensation – much like Jin Jun Mei in that respect.

Yin Jun Mei

For brewing, I went with a typical black tea approach – 1 tsp. in a 6oz. gaiwan, steeped in boiled water for three minutes. Tried and true method for anything Lapsang-ish. I hoped some smoke emerged from the infusion.

The liquor brewed to a foggy red-amber with a spry, almost Keemun-like aroma. Smoky yet sweet. The taste was the most surprising aspect. Smoke did emerge on the forefront, but not in that strong, hickory sort of way. It was understated but definitely there. What followed really had me floored. It was a sensation that was almost like a white tea – an herbaceous punch of zest coupled with a smidge of malt. Whatever it was, it was delicious. And I can see why this and its “gold” sibling are taking Tong Mu away.

Yin Jun Mei Tea

That said, I still have a soft spot for the unsophisticated, pinewood punch of the ol’ Lapsang. So, I write this glowing approval of this Jun Mei type with a metaphoric tear of lament. Lapsang Souchong, I salute ye.

salute

In all your forms.

For Part 2, go HERE. 

A “Tea”-ny, Tiny Fanboy Crush

By

On September 4, 2013

In Tea Musings

A few weeks back, the unthinkable happened. In a summer where my average work day was ten-plus hours, I got off shift by 3PM. This had happened – maybe! – three or four times in the last three or four months.  It could be more, but I’m not willing to research my “check-ins” to find out. My first instinct on such unicorn days was to make good tea. My second was to find a place to make that tea for me.

Smith Teamaker was usually the answer.

That day, instead of going for my usual first flush Darjeeling mainstay, I looked at a sign in front of me for a “Chai Cola”. I’d seen mentions of it on their Facebook page. Their Masala Chai fused with ginger beer. I stepped out of my comfort zone a bit and ordered it.

Spectacular.

I’m not usually a masala chai guy, but when cut with something else, I’m more than willing to admit pompous defeat. That and I’d never tried ginger beer (like a spicy root beer) before. The combination proved to not be overpowering, not too sweet, and only medium spicy. Ginger obviously took point with the added oomph of fizz, but the result was pure refreshment. Not heartburn, which was usually my reaction to heavy ginger.

Chai Cola

Alex, the tea-mage behind the Chai Cola recipe came out to “shoot the cuppa” for a moment between tasks. He was one of Smith’s everymen – part sales guy, part tech guru, and an all-around nice guy. Plus, his tea leanings were similar to mine. That being, notching off weird s**t.

In the midst of our usual oddi-“tea” ramblings, Alex asked, “Hey, have you heard of The Snooty Tea Blogger before?”

I racked my brain, going through the list of bloggers I knew. I knew a lot of bloggers. “Uh…no.”

“She’s reviewed a few of our samplers,” Alex continued. “The black tea sampler write-up alone was four pages long.”

“Wha-really?!”  I said, feeling…slightly threatened.

“And soooo many puns,” he finished.

I shrugged. “Tea people love their puns.”

(Seriously, we do.)

After about an hour of cola-nursing, I headed home. Who was this mysterious woman who was almost more verbose than I? After some not-so-difficult perusing, I found the person on Twitter. Apparently, we were already following each other. That and we had “circled” each other on Google+. Shows how observant I am.

With the length, polish and puns in the tea articles, I half-expected a woman in her seventies surrounded by hamsters. The eyes on her “About” page said differently.

Miss Tea-Rious

 

That and the fact that she had a Tumblr page. No one over the age of thirty had a Tumblr page, nor did they have good use for it. Well, other than Doctor Who GIFs and Harry Potter fan art. Hers featured tea grower profiles and other tea-related minutiae. I could think of no better use for Tumblr. Whoever this gal was, she ran the social media gamut.

Then I found her YouTube channel. I wish I never had.

Five minutes went by.

Watchin'

Then twenty.

Then forty.

By that evening, I’d watched all of her videos, save two. And felt slightly warm in my tummy. It wasn’t the oolong I’d just ingested, either.

Happy

Aside from Tea For Me Please’s vendor spotlights, The Devotea’s wonderfully eccentric videos, and an English Breakfast vid my brother and I made, I never really used YouTube for tea. The Snooty Tea Person’s videos were about on par with any of the other big-time vloggers on that accursed time-wasting site. That (and obviously)…she was adorable.

Best. Rageface. Ever.

Best. Rageface. Ever.

In the following days, I perused her other articles. Being the ever-enlightened tea man I am, I took particular notice of her “Sexuali-tea 2013” article. (Oh, like you wouldn’t have looked?!) In it, she provided a wee bit more insight into her interests outside of tea. And I gulped. She was into anime.

So. Not. Fair.

My not-so-inner fanboy squealed with delight, while my brain tried to wrap its tendril-ly gray matter around the concept. Okay, I told myself. The interest here is purely peer professional. Heck, you’ve met A LOT of smart, attractive, and fascinating tea women in the last year. This is just like that.

That little pep talk seemed to work.

One day, I got ready for work in the way I always did. I awoke around 6:30AM, meandered to the kitchen, put the kettle on, and perused the tea tins on the counter. This particular day, I opted for Zen Tara Tea’s Orange Spice Black. It was perhaps the only true Orange Spice blend I’d encountered because it actually had a “spicy” taste to it. Others placed more emphasis on the “orange”, which was fine in some circumstances. This morning, I needed a bit more verve.

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I primed my to-go thermos, hopped into the shower, then took the pint of orange-spicy goodness and headed out. It was a good half-hour drive to work, plenty of time to nurse a mug on the road. Not sure why, but on this day, the infusion turned out absolutely perfect. A hard thing for me to admit about a flavored tea.

When I pulled up to my work’s parking lot, I made the following tweet on my phone.

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Then I thought back to The Snooty Tea Person’s usual vernacular.

I’m doomed.

Gir-gir-25268793-560-853

Tea is Magic to a Darjeeling-Drenched Dresden Phile

By

On April 10, 2013

In Tea Musings

This is the part of the entry – the introduction, no less – where the blogger is supposed to “apologize for not blogging in a while”. This is usually followed by an excuse of some sort – work, school, girlfriends, boyfriends, abductions, pets, zombie apocalypses, what-have-you. Well, I don’t have any excuse – at least, not a good one. I’ll blame it on one word: Magic.

As mentioned in my priory entry, I’m currently neck-deep in The Dresden Files. I’m on book…oh…eight? Cliff’s notes version: It’s about a wizard – Harry Dresden – who acts as a private eye in Chicago, and epic events happen around the man. It’s urban fantasy for the post-Harry Potter set. And damn awesome at that.

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The fourteen-(and counting)-book series also inspired a short-lived TV series. It was nowhere near as epic as the book series. Events and characters were changed to cater to a scaled-down TV show budget. And, hoo-boy, was it ever scaled down. There was one key difference between the books and show that I found interesting – a character trait that the show had over the written word.

In the books, Dresden was a coffee drinker; in the TV series, a tea drinker.

Dresden tea

There were a couple of episodes that focused rather heavily on the magical properties of plants, and they played an integral part of a potion in one episode. On a couple of occasions, he was also seen drinking from a Japanese cast-iron tea cup. No one drinks coffee out of cast-iron. Er, not that I know of.

This made me wonder – in a not-so-serious fashion – if there was something to this “tea-is-magic” stuff. I consider myself a bit of an amateur expert on the subject of tea and magic, but I hadn’t done an anecdotal (read: nonfictional) “study” on the subject. So, I decided to reflect on the last month or so using one common factor for this little meta-tea study: My last three encounters with Smith Teamaker teas.

What? It’s not a scientific theory unless it’s been proven three times, right? At least, I think that’s how it goes. Oh, right…on to the magic.

Fraud and First Flush

When I received the phone call, I was under a bed. At work.

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I won’t say what I do for work, or why I was under a bed, but I will say that it was an inopportune time to be answering the phone. The call was from a third-party fraud department that worked in tandem with my credit union.

The woman on the other end asked, “Did you make any purchases in Georgia or North Carolina?”

I said, “Um…no.”

“You’re still in Oregon, then?” she continued.

“Yes,” I answered. Slightly more annoyed.

“Well, your debit card was used in the following locations,” and then she went on to explain that said debit card was now frozen as a result. I had no access to funds until my credit union branch opened on Monday.

In the interim, whoever the mysterious fraud culprit was continued to rack up charges on my debit card, thus negating the claim that my account had been frozen. By Sunday of that weekend, I was penniless. That and a credit card payment that I’d made in advance was going to bounce.

Come Monday morning, I had a rather heated exchange with a bank rep about the situation. At first, she was un-empathetic to my penniless plight, but seeing me on the verge of a breakdown softened her Sikh heart. I filed the necessary incident report, noted the fraudulent charges, and signed on the dotted line. She agreed to contact me once everything was resolved, but warned it might take a day or two.

As catharsis, I journeyed to Northwest Portland to have a relieving pot of first flush Darjeeling from the Chamong estate at Smith Teamaker HQ. Claire – the tea bartender on duty – patiently listened to me rant about my banking woes. While I slowly sipped away at my two-person pot, I received a phone call from the bank rep. Everything was wrapped up in a tight little bow. All fraudulent charges were removed, and any overdraft fees were refunded.

Chamong

I called my credit card company to make sure that the payment from my credit union went through without a hitch. They confirmed there were no issues. I stared at my phone – shocked.

All crises were averted…in the time it took me to down a pot of tea. Coincidence?

Sakura and Sun Tea

I’ve already talked about how my brother introduced me to “sun tea” a couple of years ago. On further attempts, we used Smith Teamaker’s Exceptional Iced Tea blend to make more. I still had four huge-arse sachets of the stuff left, and we decided to give it another run on the first warm day of Spring. My brother put it by the cherry blossom tree in our backyard.

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Three hours later, it was ready. We went through half the jar in only two days. On one of those days, I downed at least two pints – right before I was to attend my usually Monday board game night at a friend’s house. The usual default for us is a game called Settlers of Catan.

Simply put, it’s The Game of Life meets Olde World economy. Wicked fun…and I suck at it. I, maybe, win one game in twenty. By the skin of my sheep. This time around, my avenues of settlement expansion were cut in half, leaving very little potential for growth or gameplay. That’s what I thought at first.

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Not only were the dice on my side, but by some stone-‘n-mortar miracle, I made a massive comeback. By the end of it, I earned the ten points needed to win the game naturally with no development cards or added sundries. I left that game night practically glowing and in tears. A board game victory should never be that poignant and powerful.

Yes, I blame the sun tea. That’s all I had to drink the entire day.

A Darjeeling Tea Tasting

While at work (yes, again with the work moments), I received an e-mail from Alex – Smith Teamaker’s tech-‘n-sales guru – about an upcoming Darjeeling tasting thingy. The next day. New 2013 first flushes had come in. The problem with my job, though, was that I had no clue what time I’d be done. I was a supervisor of a staff of six or seven, and our departure time was contingent upon their speed.

In anticipation, I called my boss’s boss to see if I could cut out early for the tasting. He said, “Yes.” And I kowtowed in extreme appreciation. Luckily, the need for his permission wasn’t necessary. The day of the tasting, I ended up getting out an hour early!  Truly, magic at work.

The tasting itself was hosted by both Alex and Blender Tony. The latter of whom described the importance and minutiae of Darjeeling teas from a vendor perspective in great detail. We tasted roughly ten teas from seven different estates. My favorites were from the Phoobsering estate – known for their kick-arse oolongs.

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As an added bonus, I got to take those home with me.

The remainder of my week was spent finishing the last few chapters of Dead Beat – arguably the best book in the Dresden series. I can see the pro arguments. I mean, Dresden rides a zombie T-rex into battle – how cool is that?!

What I found particularly odd, though, was that there was a heckuva lot more tea drinking in this book than in the prior installments. Very little mention of coffee. I’m not sure if the books took a page out of the TV series, but I smile a bit at the coincidence.

Bah, I think I’ve proven I don’t believe in coincidences.

As I sip my second pot of Darjeeling while writing this.

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Ginger Has Soul

By

On February 25, 2013

In Tea Musings

Meet my brother…and his obscenely large dog.

RobAbacus

If you’re no stranger to this blog, then you’ve read my references to them in prior entries. My brother is my landlord/roommate. The dog? Well…he’s just there – acting all cute and hyper. To my sibling’s credit, he is a casual tea drinker. I say “casual” because he doesn’t worry about things like seasonal flushes, nebulous leaf grades, or what mountain his oolongs come from. I, on the other hand, do take those factors into consideration. What I’m about to confess, though, is that my brother has oftentimes influenced my tea drinking routine.

I sort of hinted at this in a prior entry about chamomile. Through him, I used to have an affinity for the relaxing flower. However, my palate has changed since then, and now chamomile – to me – tastes like…well…floral-flavored ass medicine. No, I can’t think of a better comparison.

But back to the subject at hand.

Roughly three years ago, my brother embarked on a bit of an experiment utilizing a jar, some teabags, and simple sunlight. Before him, I hadn’t even heard of “Sun Tea”, nor that it was a southern staple. All that was required was a three-hour wait, then presto. The results were eye-openingly delicious. Crude but credible.

A couple of years later, we tried it out with a couple of loose-leaf sachets of Smith Teamaker’s Exceptional Iced Tea blend. The results were “like” iced tea but slightly different. A good different, I assure you. When Summer comes around again, we’ll probably do the same thing. And to those that warn against bacterial growth. Well…we Normans are rebels.

Exceptional Sun Tea

On a simple day back in…uh…I think it was November, my brother up and decided that he was not going to fall ill anymore. His magic solution to this “ailment” was an old wives tale – apple cider vinegar, 1 tsp. a day. Normally, he added it to his tea. I thought the idea of that sounded disgusting.

Then I heard about the nationwide flu outbreak.

At my new job, I hadn’t earned health insurance yet. Nor did I have the money to get vaccinated. While I knew green tea helped to curb colds and influenza, it wasn’t a sure-fire answer. So, in the early morning before work, I would brew a pot of something dark, and the third cup was always doused with a dash of apple cider vinegar. And guess what? I liked it. The stuff went really well with an over-brewed black tea. Somehow, the tannins and the vinegar made magic – not sure.

Brother-made naan on the left.

Brother-made naan on the left.

February is almost over, and I still haven’t been sick. So…I guess there’s something to the stuff. Score two to the bro.

Some weeks back, brother dearest and his girlfriend tried another experiment. This time, it was an attempt to boil a tisane of fresh ginger by the pot. I – at my tea-snobbiest – said snootily, “The best results come from using dried ginger.”

They politely entertained my pontification, but humbly disagreed, and went on with their experiment. That gave me a moment of pause, and I turned to the FaceTwitPlus-o-sphere to garner second opinions from the rest of the tea community. The results were mixed. Some said better ginger flavor was yielded from brewing the dried stuff, others were proponents of fresh. On a second go-around, my bro and his lady-love tried it with smaller cut pieces of ginger.

Fresh Ginger

It was at this point I gave in and tried some. Small confession: I’m not a fan of ginger. At all. I went through a phase of drinking it every day but ended up with a wicked case of heartburn. That turned me off to most tisanes with the stuff. Same with peppermint. I could only stand blends with those ingredients if they were used sparingly.

My brother’s fresh ginger experiment was a game-changer. Sure, it tasted like ginger, but the flavor was more citrus-heavy than spice-laden. That and the fresh stuff was oddly cooling. Strange, considering ginger is normally a “heating” herb. The overall sensation was gentle, like a warm, relaxing electric blanket in liquid form.

Brotherhood Achievement: Unlocked.

My tea-snobbery was curb-stomped. I don’t know when I’ll ever learn to keep my preconceived notions at bay, but I suppose that’s what siblings are for. To bring you back down to Earth when you become to big for your beverage-y britches. Oh well…I did introduce him to Greek Mountain “tea” and Golden Yunnan…so I guess that means we’re even.

Oh wait, that’s three-to-two.

Damn.

© Jason Norman

© Jason Norman

2012 Wrap-Up – It’s All in the Tea Delivery

By

On December 31, 2012

In Tea Musings

happy new year 2012 from father time and the new year's baby from histeria

2012 can suck it.

Okay, perhaps I should elaborate. Since about – oh – 2008, I can’t say I’ve had a particularly “good” year, by any stretch. They’ve usually been a mish-mash of good and bad. The finest example of this was 2010, which was just…bipolar. 2012, however, was just all-around shite right out of the starting gate. So bad, in fact, that I took an (unintentional) hiatus from anything to do with writing for the better part of December. I had nothing positive to impart, and – frankly – didn’t feel like rehashing my dark mood.

As a result, for this entry, I’m going to focus on the (few but far between) positive moments of the last year. Over the summer – like I’ve said in prior entries – I decided to “retire” from tea reviewing. My heart (and time) weren’t into it anymore. I was also under the delusion of focusing on other projects. That didn’t quite pan out, but – honestly – was anyone really surprised?

One of the things I was looking forward to was finally whittling down my vast tea stores. Without an influx of new teas coming in, perhaps I could finally notch them off – one cup at a time. That didn’t quite pan out, either. Reason being? The kindness of strangers. I may have given up on tea reviewing…but it didn’t give up on me.

I would like to highlight and wax awesomely about some of these kind folks:

The Photo-Biker Tea Shaman

If – by the grace of Brahma – I ever make it to Darjeeling in my lifetime, the first person I’m looking up is Benoy Thapa of Thunderbolt Tea. Back in ’08, when I first started writing about tea, I received a random Facebook friend request from him. It took me to several months to do “the maths” to figure out that he was the headliner of Thunderbolt. The following year, he sent along a care-package of teas to review and a few other goodies.

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He is solely responsible for my complete 180° opinion change about Darjeeling teas. In 2012, he came through again with some exquisite teas from Turzum, Risheehat, and Castleton. I wrote about each and every one of them, and I still pull the packs out for reflection. Benoy is probably the nicest tea-guy I’ve ever met, and I hope one day to shake his hand. And buy all of his tea. All of it.

Tea MC Tiff

There was a time in the middle of the year when I made regular tea pit stops to my favorite brick-‘n-mortar stores. On Saturdays, I usually made runs to The Jasmine Pearl. On Mondays, I could be found at Smith Teamaker. For the latter, I usually went in the morning before the rush started.

Tiffany was often the host on duty, and gracefully put up with my esoteric tea-fueled diatribes for the two hours I was there. She also made a mean bowl of matcha. Aside from the bowl, I usually left the place about two pots in.

On one such outing, she informed me that she and her son were planning a trip to Japan. She asked if I knew of any tea gardens that were near Kyoto. I racked my brain for a bit while sipping, then it hit me. Obubu! (I love that name.)

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I gave her the info on how to contact the garden for a tour. The following week, she told me that her contact form hadn’t been approved yet, nor had she received a reply about it. I took to Twitter to contact their main sales-guy directly. He replied mere seconds later and sped up the process.

Tea MC Tiff ended up visiting the plantation and had a wonderful time. That and she brought back some teas (plural) from her trip. Chief among them, some Hawaiian green and sakura blossoms – the latter of which had been on my Tea WANT! list forever. It took me forever to try it, but I’m thankful for the opportunity.

It really is who ya know.

The Purrfect Cup

Courtney Powers (great spy name, by the way) is my girl-bro. I say that because I can’t think of any other gal that has had my back in 2012 like this sister-blogger. She encouraged me if/when I was ever down, she was the perfect NaNoWriMo cheerleader (which I never completed), and the best part…

She sent me some damn good tea.

Zhu-Rong-XL

Thanks to her, I was finally able to try some of the wares from Verdant Tea, a company that I’d been eyeing for several months. Their Zhu Rong and Laoshan series were topnotch. And I wouldn’t have been able to say that if it weren’t for her “purrfect powers”.

The SororiTea Sister

The funny thing about this fellow tea reviewer – alias, LiberTeas – is that she’s practically a neighbor. I’ve never met her – probably never will – but some of the best teas I tried this year stemmed from her. Steepster’s to blame. I saw an update on that tea social media site regarding a Darjeeling white I’d never tried from my favorite estate – Giddapahar.

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I left only one comment on the actual SororiTea Sisters review. I think it said, “WANT!”

A couple of months later, I received a package from her with that Darjeeling white, and a few others she thought I’d enjoy. Prior to that, we had made a few tea swaps, and almost always, they had been unsolicited. She’s just that nice. I still have quite a few of those samples to pound through, too.

The Powers That Be

Along with insanely good blogging tools and advice, the Davenport duo that run this here site have also shown great tea patronage. This year, Jackie imparted some offerings from the Doke estate – the one managed by the Lochan family. One was an oolong; one was a white. Both were exquisite.

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I had plans to include them in an epic story, but that never came to pass – alas. But I’m still grateful to have had the opportunity to sip them. Copiously.

Big Brass Butiki-s

As I’ve mentioned before, Stacy Lim – the purveyor of Butiki Teas – is on my palate wavelength. She has a flare for the unusual, a leaning I can relate to and respect. She sent me an e-mail some months ago wondering if I’d ever heard of Japanese pu-erh. I rattled off some things I had tried, yet she said those weren’t what she was thinking of.

organic japanese puerh

Before I could apologize for not being more useful…she offered some up for sampling. A month or two later – barring hurricane delays – I received an ample package containing a sample of the aforementioned pu-erh and a few others. Of the nine, I’ve unfortunately only made it to two. With tea patronage like this, delays are inevitable. I couldn’t thank her enough.

“The Hero of Canton”

Back in the spring, I was “commissioned” by Canton Tea Co. for a guest blog on a couple of new Dan Congs they were putting on the market. Unfortunately, being well…uh…me, I didn’t finish the guest blog until that summer. I received an e-mail back from their sales lead stating that they had other plans for the blog. They were about ready to launch a new weekly tea club, and they wanted me to be a VIP.

What this meant exactly, I had no clue. I thought it consisted of a couple of samples as payment for the guest blog, and that was it. Boy, was I wrong.

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It’s been twelve (or so?) weeks since the official Canton Tea Club launch, and I’m still a member. I get new and unique teas once per week. They have yet to call upon me to do another write-up, but the teas keep a-comin’. I’m starting to wonder if it’s a clerical error, or if they’re seriously just that cool. For now, I’ll go with the latter and not question it.

I “heart” them dearly. And, seriously, their tea club is a game changer. You – fair reader(s?) – should check it out.

The Great Wizard Zendalf

Also in the spring, I received a DM over Twitter from Zen Tara requesting to send me some Darjeeling to review. This was prior to my “retirement”, so I naturally said, “Hell yeah!”

Time went by, though, and I never saw a package. I didn’t press them on it because – well – that’d be douche-y. What would I have said, “Hey, where’s mah free tea?!”

Uh…no.

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I let it slide, and forgot about it over the passage of time. Literally a week before Christmas, I received a rather large box in the mail. Five teas were contained in said box with a letter from “The Great Wizard Zendalf”. It told an epic story of how this delivery came to be, and instantly earned my approval of awesomeness. Among the teas in the package was a note-perfect golden-tipped Assam from the Khongea estate that I’ll be reflecting on at a later juncture. Still, what a way to make an entrance, Zen Tara. You know me too well.

Clouds and Mist

This wouldn’t be a true gratitude blog if I didn’t mention tea authoress, Jo Johnson. On top of being one of my biggest cheerleaders from the get-go, she also mentioned that I’m in the forward of her upcoming book. That alone caused more warm-fuzzies than any other moment this year.

A couple of weeks back I received a Christmas card and a sample packet of tea. It was a Cloud & Mist green, a type I’m not usually a fan of. However, I brewed it up anyway.

Not sure if it was the tea, my gratitude, or a bunch of other factors…but it was the best green I’d tried.

And I think that pretty much sums the good things from this year.

2012 can suck it

But I will still sip it.

Leaves of tea

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.

Putting the “Noir” in Black

By

On November 17, 2011

In Tea Features

Pinot Noir – meaning “pine black” in French – is a type of grape closely associated with the Burgundy region of France. It also has the claim to fame of being a very ancient grape, only a couple of strains removed from Vitis sylvestris. (I.e. Pinot is to it what dogs are to wolves.) As everyone knows, it is typically used in the production of a very burly red wine. It’s tough to grow but great to drink.

I, personally, don’t care for the stuff, opting instead for its equally burly (but less tannic) Italian cousin, Sangiovese. However, there is one thing that grabs my attention, and it’s anything that has been flavored with Pinot. I have no clue why this is, it just grabs my fancy. Case in point: I once tried a stout ale that’d been aged in a Pinot Noir barrel. The drink took on all the characteristics one loved in red wine…without any of the negatives. That and there was the flavor of the main ingredient.

So, you can imagine my glee when I found out – from the owner, no less – that Smith Teamaker was playing around with a Pinot Noir barrel-aged black tea. The kind folks at Adalsheim Vineyard in Oregon’s Pinot-rich Dundee/Newberg area gifted my favorite tea op with a just-used barrel for just such an experiment. To date, I had tried three of Smith’s alcohol-scented tea experiments. All were one shade of wonderful or another – my fave being their whiskey Ceylon – and I hoped this one was worthy of the pantheon.

Aside from the touted wine barrel, the leaves used were from the Dimbulla and Uva regions of Sri Lanka (Ceylon). Some Nuwara Eliya was also sprinkled in for good measure, but their presence was minor. I’m guessing Smith was aiming for a darker black tea with a floral character that could go toe-to-toe with the winy residuals.

The leaves were long-cut, twisty, dirt-brown to soot-black with an occasional golden piece that made its way into the fray. The aroma was all grape. I can’t think off the top of my head what Pinot Noir smells like – other than berry-flavored battery acid – but the batch certainly had the grape thing down pat.

There were no set brewing instructions for this, given that it was an experimental batch at best, but I figured a typical black tea approach was in order. I used 1 tsp of leaves in 8oz. of boiled water, steeped for four minutes. Usually, I would only go three, but I wanted to get all the bang out of the barreled beauty.

The liquor brewed gold-ringed amber with a nose that betrayed no subtlety. It was a bold, somewhat sour, very grapy wine front with an after-whiff of flowers. That same impression showed through in the taste with a front that was dominated with winy notes – like a tongue touched by crimson – and was immediately followed up by the mid-malt and floral impression of the Ceylon base. As far as delivery mechanisms went, the use of a Ceylon as opposed to an Assam or a Keemun might’ve been the right one. No kidding aside, this was a wine fancier’s “hair of the dog” without any of the headache or inebriation.

Without exaggeration, this was their best alcohol-scented “teaxperiment” to date. While I enjoyed the whiskey and gin tryouts that preceded it, this was the one with the strongest liquor impression. This is the perfect morning cup for a Pinot-drenched palate. Now, maybe if I beg enough, I could get them to do a Sangiovese barrel-aged Keemun Hao Ya. Guan Yin willing…it’ll happen.

Tea Time in Real Life

By

On October 27, 2011

In Tea Musings

Ever since I picked up tea as a hobby, there has been an inherent problem. No one else was really into it. My real life friends humored my off-kilter pursuit, and even came to me for recommendations, but – for the most part – it was a geek-ish lean that was entirely solitary. If it weren’t for social media outlets like Tea Trade or Twitter, my tea talk would’ve descended into monologues and murmurs. While connecting with friends of the leaf from far-flung locations had its appeal, the more tangible social connection was missing.

Photo by Jennifer Stewart

Photo by Jennifer Stewart

Enter an unassuming, mild-mannered guy named David Galli.

I had associated with him a bit on Twitter. Our palates for Chinese black teas were about the same. I hadn’t made the connection that he was a fellow Portlander until a couple of months into our tea talk. Around the same time, I also associated with a fledgling group-to-be called The Portland Tea Enthusiasts’ Alliance. Turns out that David was the founder/”Head Cheerleader” of the group. Yes, I know. I’m slow.

At around the same time, when I finally put two-and-two together, a promoter friend of mine also linked me to the Alliance and another tea enthusiast. Well, that settled it. I had to meet this self-proclaimed Head Cheerleader. A meeting of the steeps was already in the works, as David had contacted me about a greet-up and exchange of teas/thoughts. We agreed upon Smith Teamaker as our destination, since he’d never been. I was looking forward to going there with someone other than…er…myself.

We were treated like philosopher kings by the co-owner and Tea MC alike. Among the many wares we got to sample was a black tea blended with Douglas Fir tips. It tasted like concentrated Christmas. I so desperately wanted some. Unfortunately, it was only available through Eddie Bauer. Yes, the retail chain. The “Good Morning” blend – as she called it – also came paired with another tea; the packaging looked like a tea fancier’s happy meal. It was that awesome.

At the end of our sipping, the co-owner gave us a brief tour of the operation. Out of the two years I’d frequented there, I never wondered what their Wonka factory looked like. It was spectacular. They even had a break room with its own koi pond. It was the best kept secret in Portland, I thought. (Except that I outed it just now…oops.)

Duly sated and overly-caffeinated, David and I agreed on another meet-and-greet for an unspecified time in the future. The insecure side of me thought I had “regurgitated” my tea talk rather than conversed – like years of pent-up hobby-ing was brought to the forefront in one sitting. It was also oddly refreshing to encounter someone who had me stumped on tea trivia. Example: I hadn’t realized how uninformed I was about oolongs from Wuyi Shan. He had acquired more tea knowledge in a year than I had in three.

Roughly four days after that successful meet-up, plans were made for yet another. This time, it was to involve a slightly larger group – an informal gathering of like-minded folks interested in a fledgling tea group. The location? Smith Teamaker again. I had no argument with this.

I was the first to arrive. Traffic had actually been on my side on the trek there. The Tea MC (Tiffany) waved a “hello” and wondered how many others were destined to show. I honestly had no idea. My exact reply was, “Somewhere between three…and five?”

The second to show was Danyeke, a friend of the same promoter folks I mentioned earlier – a fellow writer and a female Lapsang Souchong drinker. David arrived soon after. A well-rounded Renaissance gent – Kevin – showed up some ten-to-twenty minutes later. Another kindly guy also made a brief appearance but ducked out to get back to work. Tea MC Tiff started us off with a unique taster flight. By unique, I mean it included two single estate Assams…and a PINOT NOIR BARREL-AGED BLACK TEA!

(Left to Right) Me, Danyeke, David, and Kevin

(Left to Right) Me, Danyeke, David, and Kevin

(Sidenote: Yes, it was as awesome as it sounds. Yes, there will be a review forthcoming.)

Our second dig-in was of Smith’s Yunnan Dian Hong, Brahmin’s Choice, a Darjeeling first flush (Marybong estate), and a Keemun Hao Ya B. All brewed to the peak of smoky perfection. These were also the first teas of my day…and technically, they were also breakfast.

We ended up staying at Smith’s for two hours – waxing poetic about tea, astrology, origin stories, fiction, nonfiction, and different countries. It was more well-rounded and camaraderie-filled than any tea outing I experienced up to that point. Rarely was there a moment of awkward pause. Again, the insecure part of me hoped I wasn’t too bombastic a blowhard in real life as I was often considered online. But rarely did I feel that way.

Tea is – by its very existence – a beverage of contemplation, but there is a social element to it as well. I hadn’t really experienced that. For once, I wasn’t the lone steeper in the room…and it was quite wonderful.

From Opium to Oolong – Tea from Thailand

By

On May 14, 2011

In Tea Musings

When I thought of Thailand in terms of tea, the only ones that came to mind were Thai sweet tea and Boba (or “bubble”) tea. The former of which was a glass of sugar with a little bit of tea in it;  the latter I hated beyond measure. (Tapioca belonged in pudding…not tea.) As a result, it was easy to dismiss Thai tea culture as something only spoken of in giggle-fitted whispers.

A travel blog posted by Leafjoy corrected my preconceived notions by relating a rather interesting story. Apparently, in Northern Thailand – a place that’d become a tribal melting pot – they grew their own tea. Chiang Rai province was infamous for it’s old cash crop standby – poppies, the primary ingredient for opium. That had since changed to more orthodox offerings such as fruit and tea plants. The entry arched my “Tea WANT!” eyebrow. I hate it when it arches.

Courtesy of Leafjoy.com

I figured that acquiring some in recent months would be a distant and unlikely possibility, but serendipity had other things in store. On my Smith Teamaker jaunt to pick up the new Mao Feng Gin, I ran into Steven Smith himself.

“I have something you have to try,” he said.

He brought out a green bag adorned in Asiatic lettering and poured out some blue-green, balled oolong-ish leaves. The “blue tea” – as he called it – was given to him as a sample from a business contact in Canada. Said contact was curious if Smith wanted to carry it. In turn, he was curious what I thought of it. Neither of us were quite sure what the “blue tea” moniker meant, though. Steven also didn’t have any other details for me other than the tea itself and the growing region (Doi Tung). I thanked him profusely and went home to do a little digging and brewing.

The blue tea search left me quite stumped, however. I could find no mention of blue tea other than a listing on the Mariage Frères site for an “Opium Hill” tea. It looked the same as the sample I received from Smith. Unfortunately, their information on it – other than being of Thai origin – was sparse.

Dejected, I did what any tea geek would do in that situation. I turned to a more well-versed and aptly-named Tea Geek. He informed me that blue tea (or “qingcha”) was another given name for wulong/oolong. It was a blanket category for all semi-oxidized teas because of the blue-ish hue they take on after drying. It was a bit of a misnomer, much like the Western “black tea” label.

The leaves for this were “tricksy” in their appearance. On sight alone, they looked like any normal green-style oolong I came across. The semi-oxidized, blue-green color, and the ball-fisted rolling technique were not too different from Chinese or Taiwanese oolongs. If I didn’t know any better, I would say I was looking at a Bai Hao/Oriental Beauty – a light-roasted one at that. What informed me that I was dealing with something completely different was the aroma. I smelled berries; rather, three distinct ones – strawberries, grapes, and blueberries – fused together. It was like wrapping a Fruit Roll-Up around one’s nose.

Given the entirely new experience on sight and smell, there was no specific brewing template to go by. A good default with an aromatic, light-roasted oolong was multiple infusions in a gaiwan with 190F water. Basically, gongfu-style but less formal. I did exactly that with four steeps – two at thirty seconds, two at forty – 1 tsp. worth of leaf-balls.

First infusion (thirty seconds): I’ll be honest, it sorta smelled like pondwater. The liquor also looked river-green. The taste, however – while possessing a vegetal forefront – transitioned  to a wonderfully floral body and a subtle fruit finish.

Second infusion (thirty seconds): This time the liquor took on a brighter color and a more aromatic scent – buttery like lotus blossoms. The floral character also echoed in the taste but with something more akin to jasmine. That could’ve been the somewhat dry forefront. The mid-body was more melon-like this time, very even in comparison to the first. What little aftertaste there was passed by with a smooth texture.

Third infusion (forty seconds): Same visual palette but with an indiscernible nose. It was neither an earthy or floral scent but rather something “clean”. In sharp contrast, the taste took on the berry notes I detected in the dry, fisted leaves. Very prevalent in the middle. Again, the aftertaste tapered off pleasantly.

Fourth infusion (forty seconds): The liquor color had lightened significantly to a pale yellow, more in line with some spring flush green teas. The taste still had plenty to offer, though. It alternated between fruity, creamy and floral – like a grape that’d been dipped in honey-vanilla and wrapped in petals for warmth. The finish possessed more of a vegetal kick, signifying that it was almost at the end of its yield.

This Thai goodie didn’t fade, though, until about infusion #7, much to my surprise. The flavor remained pretty even throughout, no major detractions from its original smoothness. That and it never took on the metallic astringency of an over-brewed Ti Kwan Yin.

While the initial steam aroma was off-putting on the first infusion, this was a very reliable introductory oolong. I’m not sure it would hold up in a taste-test against a good Wu Yi or Ali Shan, but right out of the starting gate, I’d say Thailand is off to a damn good start. This was the Shiraz of oolongs.

Special Thanks to:

Smith Teamaker – For providing the sample, and for terrific tea talk. I always feel at home there.

Michael J. Coffey (purveyor of TeaGeek.net) – For having the world’s most magnificently ironic name ever, and for clearing up the “blue” debacle. He’s a fountain of tea knowledge.

Leafjoy – For their informative tea blog and for giving me permission to use one of their photographs.

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