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‘Tis the season to raid the tea museum for rare, expensive, or just very good teas I wouldn’t normally let myself drink. This competition grade Bai Hao has been in storage since the end of 2019. I steeped around 5 g of leaf in a 120 ml teapot at 190F for 25, 20, 25, 30, 35, 45, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds.

Dry, the aroma is of autumn leaf pile, muscatel, lemon, and berries. The first steep is deceptively light and delicate, with notes of honey, autumn leaves, and muscatel. Further scrutiny reveals raspberry, other berries, sap, and floral notes. The second steep is even sweeter, with lots of blackberry, raspberry, muscatel, lemon, sugarcane, honey, and floral flavours. Hints of orange and peach appear in the third steep. I let the fourth steep cool when I went to get my booster shot, and came back to a cup with extra lemon, berry, muscatel, and rose notes. There’s that autumn-leaf-like flavour one gets in Bai Hao, but no bitterness or astringency. The fruit starts to fade in steep six, letting the florals and honey have centre stage. I also get hints of spice. The last few steeps have some tannins and malt, but enough honey and muscatel to make them tasty.

This is a lovely example of a tea type I like, and as such, it gets a high rating from me. It’s too sweet, decadent, and pricy to be in regular rotation, but it’s a wonderful occasional treat. I bought a 10 g sample, but would consider getting a larger quantity since I think the price (US$36 for 50 g) reflects the quality.

Being able to taste teas like this one is the reason I invest so much money, time, and care in this hobby. It’s both accessible and complex, and makes me want to hone my ability to detect and describe flavours so I can deepen my appreciation of top-quality leaves.

I’ve been meaning to write a note for this tea for a while. Daylon generously sent a sample to me last winter, and after smelling the leaves, I immediately ordered 50 g in the middle of what was supposed to be a self-imposed buying ban. (No regrets.) I steeped 6 g of leaf in a 120 ml porcelain teapot using 195F water for 25, 20, 25, 30, 30, 45, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds.

Dry, this smells a lot like a Tie Guan Yin with some high mountain floral flourishes: orchids, other flowers, apricot, pleasant sourness, and herbs. The first steep has notes of apricot, orchid, lilac, pleasant sourness, herbs, and grass, with a lingering apricot aftertaste. The next steep is more herbaceous, and adds butter and some spinach. The stonefruit notes are more pronounced in steeps three and four, though I don’t detect pineapple as Daylon did. However, I see where he’s getting cilantro. I taste pronounced apricot with overtones of peach, with the sour, herbaceous, floral finish of Tie Guan Yin. The next few steeps are greener, with grass, spinach, and other veggies blending with the stonefruit and florals. This is starting to taste more like a regular Tie Guan Yin. The final few steeps fade into generic veggies and flowers.

Like Daylon, I had a hard time listing everything I tasted in this tea, and think that “ethereal” is a good way to describe it. I found it to be more like a Tie Guan Yin than a Li Shan oolong, though the profiles of these teas overlap to some extent. I’ll have fun playing with my 50 g of this tea next year.

I saved this sample from Daylon for a special occasion and enjoyed it on Christmas Day. (I’m posting my note today because I had a couple more steeps to savour.) Given their high shipping cost to Canada, I haven’t had many teas from Whispering Pines and was very much looking forward to this one, particularly as I have a soft spot for fluffy golden teas from Yunnan. I steeped the entire 6 g sample in 120 ml of water at 195F for 7, 10, 12, 15, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds.

As expected, these fuzzy black and gold leaves are pretty! The dry aroma is of rye bread, dark chocolate, caramel, and malt. The first two steeps have notes of rye bread, malt, caramel, cocoa, dark chocolate, butter, molasses, wood, and fleeting hints of cherry and apricot at the front of the sip. The chocolate really steals the show. The next couple steeps add hints of vanilla, although there is some slight astringency to complement all the decadent flavours. The stonefruit also goes into hiding at this point and doesn’t return. In subsequent steeps, the tea doesn’t change very much, though it seems to get more caramely and bready as the session goes on. The tea eventually fades into faint chocolate, malt, caramel, wood, minerals, and tannins.

If this one is any indication, Whispering Pines has some wonderful offerings. Though I would have been happy if those stonefruit notes had stayed longer, the chocolate, caramel, and rye bread made for a cozy Christmas gongfu session.

I’ve been trying to limit my caffeine intake due to a persistent bout of insomnia, but it’s Christmas Eve and I decided to celebrate with this special tea. I steeped 3.5 g of leaf in a 355 ml mug using 195F water for 3.5, 5, and 7 minutes.

As Derk mentioned, the aroma of the dry leaves is very like that of a Darjeeling, with notes of honey, grain, citrus, muscatel, and flowers. The first steep has notes of passion fruit (which I probably couldn’t have named without Derk’s review), citrus, muscatel, raisins, honey, orange blossom and other flowers, malt, chilli leaf, tannins, and wood. The tea’s woody, slightly spicy, and floral profile persists into the second steep, though the passion fruit isn’t as noticeable and there are more raisin/muscatel notes. The third steep has notes of malt, tannins, raisins, earth, and wood.

This is my first Japanese black tea, and although I’d read that they can be abrasive, this was nothing of the sort. Thanks to Derk for sending me a sample of this tea. I’ll be exploring more Japanese Wakocha in the future.

In response to Mastress Alita’s prompt for National Absurdity Day, I unearthed this very old tea. (I think the detox label was keeping me away.) It turns out I don’t have many weird teas in my collection, but this one had ingredients I’ve never tried, including spruce, heath milkwort (whatever that is), and gentian root. As recommended, I steeped around 4 g of material in 355 ml of water for 7 minutes and then resteeped it for 10 minutes.

The dry aroma is of fennel, mint, eucalyptus, earth, and spruce, roughly in that order. It has a peppery quality that, along with the fennel and mint, reminds me of something you might drink for a cold. There’s a lot to pick apart in the taste. The dominant note is of mint, followed by spruce, eucalyptus, some floral elements, earth, pepper, rosemary, and fennel. I was expecting this tea to be bitter, but it’s actually quite mild and pleasant. It has a slight creamy, mouth-coating finish and some sweetness, maybe from the fennel. The second steep was slightly less intense, but had most of the same flavours.

This is one of the more sophisticated herbals I’ve come across. I find most tisanes to be either too sweet or too predictable, and this was neither. I’m not sure all the ingredients needed to be there, but they were nicely balanced. Too bad this company is no longer selling tea, as I’d consider buying this again.

My second Shan Lin Xi from Ethan is from higher up the mountain than the Perfect oolong I reviewed a month ago. It’s still relatively affordable at $25 for 50 g. (Before I got into high mountain oolongs, calling that amount affordable would have made me roll my eyes.) I steeped 6 g of tea in a 120 ml porcelain pot using boiling water for 25, 20, 25, 30, 30, 30, 45, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds.

The wonderfully sweet dry aroma is of honeydew melon, gardenia, honeysuckle, orchid, other florals, cookies, and grass. The first steep has notes of gardenia, honeydew, osmanthus (maybe? I still haven’t figured out this flavour), honeysuckle, sweet pea flowers, orchid, and a vegetal backbone. The second steep adds perfectly ripe apricot and the herbaceous note that seems to be a Shan Lin Xi trademark for me. The third and fourth steeps present a lovely combination of flowers, apricot, and nectarine, with the herbaceous and vegetal notes in the background. There’s a long, fruity aftertaste with hints of lettuce. Soft Mandarin orange notes become especially prominent in steeps four and five. By steep seven, the stonefruit and citrus start to fade, though the floral and vegetal notes are still enjoyable. Later steeps have notes of spinach, asparagus, and grass with the odd hint of florals.

This tea feels like summer to the Perfect’s spring. I like the headier florals and the greater amount of stonefruit, though using my preferred brewing method, it also steeps out fairly quickly. During the three weeks this package has been open, I’ve seen it evolve from a predominantly floral tea into one with the fruity flavours I enjoy, which leads me to believe that some enthusiasts might consider them a sign that a tea is getting older. Either way, it’s been fun to appreciate this oolong on an almost daily basis, and I’ll probably do this with some of my other high mountain oolongs.

I recently joined TeaForum, which has a sometimes intimidatingly knowledgeable group of tea drinkers and vendors. One of these vendors is Ethan Kurland, who sells a small, highly curated selection of Taiwanese oolongs that have a high reputation among the cognoscenti. I picked up his three Shan Lin Xi oolongs, along with samples of some other things. I also bought two 30 ml clay teapots, which I’ll be using as the world’s tiniest tea comparison set.

Of the three Shan Lin Xi oolongs, Perfect comes from the lowest elevation and is the most affordable. I steeped 6 g of leaf in a 120 ml porcelain teapot at 195F for 25, 20, 25, 30, 30, 30, 45, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds.

The dry aroma is of heady orchids, honeysuckle, other florals, honey, cookies, and grass. The first steep is a heap of buttery florals, including orchid, honeysuckle, and sweet pea, on a background of honey, cookies, grass, and green beans. The next steep adds sweet cream corn and a hint of something fruity, maybe apricot. The third steep has notes of green apple, coriander, and the herbaceousness I sometimes find in Shan Lin Xi oolongs. The tea is a bit more savoury, though the florals are still going strong. Subsequent rounds lean more toward spinach and beans, but the orchids, sweet peas, honeysuckle, and lilacs are very present until steep seven or so. The session ends with vegetal notes and hints of flowers.

This is a lovely oolong, especially given that it’s $0.19 per gram. The vendor compares it to a Baozhong and I think that’s accurate. I would have liked to see more fruit and for the tea to have lasted longer, but all in all, I’m very happy with it.

This is my first tea from Yunnan Sourcing in a while and my first review in two months. An un-air-conditioned apartment during a heat wave isn’t the best place to drink tea, but fortunately, the weather has cooled down and I’m back in business! I got this spring 2019 harvest just a couple months before COVID hit and turned everything upside down at the start of 2020. I don’t know whether that says more about my tea hoarding habits or how long this pandemic has gone on. I steeped 6 g of tea in a 120 ml teapot at 195F for 7, 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds.

The dry aroma is of honey, malt, baked bread, wood, and smoke. The first steep has notes of baked bread, malt, honey, molasses, hay, smoke, pine, and wood. I’d describe this tea as bready rather than sweet. The next steep has hints of cocoa and citrus. Steeps three and four are like rye bread with chocolate chips, which is a thing that should really exist. However, the smoke is also more apparent and the tea has some astringency. Orange is slightly present in the tea and at the bottom of the cup. The next couple steeps are similar, but without the cocoa. As the session winds down, the malt, smoke, and wood become dominant, though the tea remains enjoyable. The final steeps have notes of malt, tannins, earth, wood, and smoke.

This is a nice Yunnan black tea, but it’s nothing special.

This is my second tea from this spring’s Floating Leaves purchase. It took a great amount of willpower not to cut open all my vacuum-sealed bags at once, but it’s worth it to have fresh tea for the next few months. Alishan typically isn’t a favourite of mine, though I’ve had some really good ones. The Alishan from FLT is generally good but not amazing. If I’d waited until the Taiwan site had posted a few more teas, I might have bought something else (I took a gamble on the free Shan Lin Xi, which I’ve reviewed here). I steeped 6 g of leaf in a 120 ml porcelain teapot using boiling water for 25, 20, 25, 30, 30, 30, 45, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds.

The dry aroma is of cookies, orchids, honeysuckle, gardenias, and grass. The session starts off with butter, cream corn, cookies, orchid, honeysuckle, spinach, and gardenia, and the Alishan is floral, woodsy, and quite sweet. The second steep adds sweet pea flowers, broccoli, and an herbaceous note I don’t often find in Alishans. The aftertaste is vegetal. Hints of citrus, orange blossom, and apricot appear in steep three, as the grassy and vegetal notes increase. The fruit persists in steeps four and five, though the florals once again predominate with the vegetal and woodsy notes. The heavier florals are still going strong in the next few steeps, particularly orchid, honeysuckle, and orange blossom. The tea remains floral until the end of the session, though the grassy and vegetal notes are more noticeable.

This Alishan has a nice range of florals and some interesting flavours that evolve throughout the session. I’d say it’s on par with other Alishans I’ve had from Floating Leaves. The aromas and flavours I get from this tea also complement the summery smells of flowers and cut grass coming through my window, making it a beautiful accompaniment to the day.

Daylon kindly sent me this Dong Fang Mei Ren as an introduction to Wang Family Tea. I had a session with it early in June, and just finished the sample a couple days ago. Following the vendor’s instructions, I steeped 5 g of leaf in a 120 ml teapot using boiling water for 20, 20, 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds, plus several long brews at the end of the session.

In my first session, the dry aroma was of honey, autumn leaves, apricot, citrus, and flowers. The first steep had notes of honey, candied orange, autumn leaves, wood, and flowers, with an aftertaste of honey that lasted for several minutes. There was a touch of not unpleasant astringency. The second steep added a sappy note, which the vendor describes as hinoki cypress (yes, I had to look that up), but it was mostly about the honey and florals. This was one of the sweetest bug-bitten teas I’ve ever had. The third and fourth steeps had more citrus, sap, osmanthus, orange blossom, butter, and lots and lots of honey. I stopped taking notes here for some reason.

I used more leaf in the next session to finish the sample, which might have been a mistake. As well as the honey, apricot, citrus, and florals I experienced in the previous session, I got wood, Graham cracker, lemon, and tannins. Unfortunately, a thunderstorm came along and I had to turn off my computer for a while, so the notes for this session are spotty as well. I got lots of honey, flowers, sap, and apricot, but the tannins, wood, and autumn leaves never went away and got stronger as the session progressed.

I wish I’d taken more care with this tea and kept better notes. This is a quality Dong Fang Mei Ren with lots of apricots and honey, though it’s a little too sweet for me. It also requires careful steeping.