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Did me a little compare/contrast session between the 2021 and 2022 Slumbering Dragon releases from Crimson Lotus.

My first sip was of the 2021, and it got me very excited — apple and apricot with what promised to be a robust backbone for exploration throughout the session. The 2022 was rather shockingly bitter — bitterness that formed an “E” laid down around the back of my palate and just flipped me the bird each pour.

The 2022 persisted with attitude; the 2021 slowly progressed through a coffee-like bottom note and then joined the bitter game.

Mouthfeel is luxurious in both; qi is gentle, positive and buzzy.

I am logically positive, having done my research like a good little tea nerd, that these teas will be tasty-fabulous in 10 years. But do I trust that with my palate, only a couple years into my puerh journey? Nope, nope I don’t. Which means I don’t stock up now and pay through the nose when things get good. Sigh.

Shared this with a strictly-with-milk tea drinker, and we both loved it. Incredibly robust, a little smoky, some cocoa… I’d say there’s some malt here, too. I loved it black, but it was really outstanding with oat milk.

I took this cake (and its amazing Fu Dog wrapper) to work after comparing it to another very affordable cake I picked up from LP, a 7543 that I decided I liked more and wanted to keep at home. The lovely thing about cakes I take to work is that I feel I get to know them intimately and in a concentrated amount of time — a knowing that slowly picking through my tea drawers at home just doesn’t facilitate.

This way of drinking through a single cake also, perhaps, encourages broad-stroke descriptions, judgment in swaths after dozens of cups rather than a quiet sit with a tiny gaiwan.

What I’ve come to expect of this tea is a little funk up front, which (usually depending on the earliness of the hour and my corresponding constitution) I have rinsed a time or two. I tend not to rinse, for better or worse. This cake strikes me reliably as vegetal and tobacco; I have had exactly one second steep that was delightfully full-bodied with a touch of sweetness, and I’ve been waiting for a return of that bit of lovely ever since. There is not a pronounced amount of sweetness, spice, camphor, or forest here.

Most of my “sessions” (an overstatement if there ever was one) have been grandpa-style in a ceramic tumbler. I’m very often disappointed after adding a second round of water, and sometimes will throw a few more leaves in to compensate. Not a terribly long-lived expression. I’ve added ice a few times, to drink with takeout Thai, and it’s nice for that.

It’s been a solid little workhorse for a couple months now, but as I near the end of my cake I’m looking forward to cracking into something a little more exciting.

Shocked (okay, not really, all things considered) I haven’t yet written a note on this tea. I shared some with a new friend who primarily drinks bagged blacks with oat milk, and they are head over heels for it. Yesssssss.

This might be my favorite black tea… absolutely top three, I’ll say, in case I’m forgetting two whole teas somehow. I was shocked the first time I tasted it, as the amount of flavor that comes from these leaves is incredible — brown sugar, fig/raisin, a whisper of nuts. Rich, thick mouthfeel with no astringency. Assam has a whole new meaning to me now.

I can finally say with confidence that my teas have adjusted to the mountain, and I (perhaps have also adjusted, and so) can taste them again. Hallelujah, amen.

This is especially true with the sheng I have been babying in my crocks, and this little firecracker came out of one of them yesterday. Gong fu’d last night, then Western steeped 10g all day today (I think I’m on infusion 5… I definitely left steeps in the tank last night, based on these numbers).

This is perhaps not my favorite bouquet of flavors, but holy mother, does it have a story to tell. This may be the most distinct sheng I’ve had the pleasure of drinking. PJ’s assessment on his blog holds true, insofar as there is camphor and soooome smoke, but my little piece has transformed right past the minty hint of Crest toothpaste into herbaceous screaming and horehound bittersweetness. This 5th steep has some chamomile that is threatening to send everyone home to bed. It’s glorious and jarring and not subtle or really even balanced in any proper sense of the word. The mouthfeel is round, my guts are warm, and I had a great time, I swear, but no, I will not marry you because I can’t live like this every night, but also I hope you have the best life, you Wild Big Tree. Muah.

Per the description, this is a raw liu bao… but it tastes wet piled to me. Damp storage notes (which I don’t mind one bit) aside, it does not have the nuance that I typically expect in raw aged liu bao. That said — the simplicity is enjoyable, and it gave me lots and lots of steeps.

I think I missed the boat on this one, maybe. I got nice comforting bread dough, but that was about all. I wonder if I shouldn’t have crocked it for a few months before digging in. Ah, well.

Thank you derk and White Antlers <3

Oof. I like this. I have been trying to be less precious with my samples, and so grabbed this on a whim and brewed it western style last night. First sip took me aback, so I gong fu’d it today to see what was up.

There is a numbing camphor belt that develops around the center of my mouth — tongue/cheeks/roof, all get to play in the halo. Nut skins, florals, dried fruit, spices, toast… it’s smooth and complex and the qi is so lovely (ie. not making me want to crawl out of my skin, a feeling I’ve been having more often than I’d like lately).

I do not need a cake, for reals and truly, but I’d spring for one of these if I did.

Edited to add: I’m drinking this western again tonight and having the same sensory experience that I’m just now remembering I had last night: “This tastes like makeup smells… in a good way.” I guess that’s baby powder and whatever eau du essences… just popping in to bookend: “I like this.”

[End sample, persued by bear.]

The second of four from derk from White Antlers… thank you again. <3

This dry leaf smelled fruitier than the Hei Shi leaves, but the steamed leaf was immediately savory and herbaceous, briny and seaweedy.

The transformations these leaves made… oy. Broth the first: nutmeg (not quite betel?), malt. Broth the second: oop, nope — this is not sweet at all. Like a buttery olive, like mild white pepper — barnyard and hay. Smooth mouthfeel, saliva producing… much more warming than the Hei Shi sample.

Here I stop and wonder: this is delicious and a journey, but would I ever crave it, chase it? I feel bad that I don’t think so. :/

Third steep, now there’s some bitter that hits on the back roof of my mouth, while everywhere else is ridiculously smooth to the point of luxurious. Indistinct hay and grasses. But then zip zop, later steeps become drying to the point of numbing, I start buzzing, I feel like I need food to tamp this down… but am distinctly not hungry.

Woo, a ride.