I’ve discovered that the secret to bringing the cinnamon out of this tea is to use a lot of it. I used to put about 4 or 5 g of tea in a 120 ml vessel, but adding a couple extra grams makes all the difference. I steeped 7 g of tea in my 120 ml teapot at around 195F for 10, 12, 15, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 120, and 160 seconds.
In the pot, the dry leaves smell like cereal, roasted spices, and char. The first steep has initial impressions of wood, roast, cereal, honey, and char, with the cinnamon lurking at the end of the sip. The cinnamon is more roasted and mellow than spicy, and I might not have classified it as such if I hadn’t been looking for it. The tea is a bit drying and has a reasonably long aftertaste.
The roast really ramps up in steep 2. I don’t think I oversteeped it, but it sure tastes that way. Gone are the cereal and sweetness, and the cinnamon is relegated to the aftertaste.
Steep 3, at 15 seconds, isn’t so roasty, and the original notes come through again. Still, this tea is a little too roasted for me. The sweetness gradually diminishes over the next three steeps until, by steep 6, it’s not nearly as complex. The cinnamon has virtually disappeared by this point. By steep 10, when I called an end to the session, the tea was just charcoal water.
This Rou Gui was good, with a nice cinnamon note if I use enough tea. However, I’m just not as fond of Wuyi oolongs as I am of greener ones.
Flavors: Char, Cinnamon, Drying, Grain, Honey, Mineral, Roasted, Wood