Black Gyokuro

Brewing this up on a lazy Sunday (yet another overcast day in May) while skimming though the “Japanese Family-Style Recipes” cookbook I bought from the used bookstore yesterday. No idea how to brew. Entire 7 grams in pot, 190F, let’s go. 25 seconds.

ok beerandbeancurd, I completely understand your impressions!

Mostly this tastes like sinking my mouth into a heavily varnished wood slab table. An old one. Then I’m hit with a very strong floral quality as if a sakura tree crashed onto this thick wood slab table with its fresh, thick coating of varnish and then quick! – a mouth full of fresh bok choi juices, cucumber, mustard greens, oxalis, stale shiitake broth, burdock root, instant potato flakes, rice in burlap sacks. Weird how it goes from alkaline at the front of the mouth to sourgrass. Weird combination of floral, woody, vegetal, savory elements

Strange.

Kyoto Obubu tea?

Oh. Warming leaves smell like bacon. I was not expecting this. Okay, little one, let’s go.

Black olives on the nose. Argh, there is something else really familiar here and I can’t place it. The taste is wholly umami and smoked meat and vegetables. Smoked, but moist and soft. This is so good.

I learned 122-140 degrees is the temperature range for gyokuro; the lukewarm temperature might be nice in summer, even though the flavors here are big and cozy. My first steep was actually 135, and I bumped up to 140 for the second — just those 5 degrees changed the profile so much. Amazing.

A little bit of sauteed celery, toasted sesame seed in the second.

Third steep brings sweetness on the nose. Not honey, like fruit-sweet. Tastes like okra chips, those packages by salad bars that say “air fried” but taste of indulgent browned oil. OH, MAYBE THAT’S IT… that smell I couldn’t place earlier, it might be roux. There’s some crunchy mushroom here, too — not earthy, not fresh — like oily roasted shiitakes.

Notes are lighter as the session moves on — celery seed and minerals on the nose, cucumber and light nuttiness in the mouth.

Wheat germ and pretzel, slick with just a hint of drying. Steeps remain nicely drinkable and tea-ish with smooth minerality, but the flavor burst is pretty well gone by steep six or so.

I’ll have to source some more black gyokuro at some point (this was part of an LP Hookup and doesn’t appear available to order), as well as some classic gyokuro, which I’ve never had, and see how they compare. LP kinda blowing my mind the past couple days, jeezo.