Fo Shou Wuyi Oolong

Yancha, my love, it’s been too long… Over a month without your comforting embrace.

I decided to branch further out with my favorite style of tea by purchasing a few handfuls of Wuyi oolong samples from Verdant. First ever Fo Shou; I also have the Reserve Fo Shou in line.

I think I’m going to dedicate my new teapot to yancha instead of high mountain oolong. I would’ve loved to try my typical heavy leafing for yancha but all I had was this sample.

Spring 2017 harvest. 5g, 100ml, 205-212F. 10s rinse followed by 9 steeps at 10s/15/20/25/30/40/55/1m15/2m

The dry leaf smelled only of roast and cocoa powder with the roast dominating. Warmed and rinsed leaf smelled like rich dark chocolate. The cocoa/chocolate notes didn’t pass through, though. Early on, I could smell a faint incense and brown sugar in the clear orange-brown liquor. I was left with a tea that stayed fairly light in taste. The roast did have a small presence in the second steep, but I otherwise couldn’t pick out anything discernible besides the mineral, which gave an active mouthfeel. The tea offered a clear aftertaste of passionfruit, later moving into a very light grilled pineapple with brown sugar. Around the seventh steep, the tea began fading with some building light astringency. The spent leaf showed a high level of roasting and smelled of pipe tobacco with only a few large leaves. Warming, calm energy that mixed well with a stick of incense.

Overall, there was some flavor missing for my preferences but it was an easy-drinker with a nice, fruity aftertaste. This tea could be a daily drinker if you have $ and is a good introduction for those looking to try Wuyi oolong.

Fo Shou is an interesting oolong cultivar. Known for its large leaves said to resemble the palm of a hand when completely unfurled, it is better known today as a Taiwanese oolong, though it originally comes from mainland China. This particular Fo Shou is part of Li Xiangxi’s collection and is a product of the spring 2015 harvest. The darker roast on this tea has allowed it to hold up very well.

I prepared this tea gongfu style. After the rinse, I steeped 5 grams of loose tea leaves in 4 ounces of 208 F water for 10 seconds. I then followed this infusion up with 11 additional infusions. Steep times for these infusions were as follows: 15 seconds, 20 seconds, 25 seconds, 30 seconds, 40 seconds, 50 seconds, 1 minute 5 seconds, 1 minute 30 seconds, 2 minutes, 3 minutes, and 5 minutes.

Prior to the rinse, a sniff of the dry tea leaves was quick to reveal pronounced aromas of dark chocolate, pine, pipesmoke, tobacco, bergamot, and char. After the rinse, the dark chocolate, pine, tobacco, and char aromas intensified somewhat. The first infusion produced a similar, though fruitier and more floral aroma, as mild lime and rose scents were just barely detectable. In the mouth, I detected strong notes of dark wood, pipesmoke, dark chocolate, char, pine, minerals, tobacco, and bergamot balanced by interesting notes of fresh kiwi, rose, and lime. Subsequent infusions were fruitier and more floral, offering stronger kiwi, lime, rose, and bergamot notes balanced by wood, char, tobacco, pipesmoke, minerals, and a lingering hint of dark chocolate. The later infusions were mild and mellow. As expected, the mineral aromas and flavors were considerably stronger than in the earlier infusions. I could still detect traces of pine, char, lime, tobacco, and dark wood, though I also began to note a slight buttery quality at this point.

Having researched this tea a little, I find myself both agreeing with and chuckling at part of Verdant’s tasting note. They described this tea as tasting like temple incense and Buddhist prayer beads, and well, I definitely see that. Like a lot of the teas released by Verdant as part of Li Xiangxi’s collection, this one is both challenging and tremendously rewarding. It also fades just a little sooner than I would like. Still, those early and middle infusions pack quite a wallop in terms of aroma and flavor. I would recommend this tea highly to open-minded tea drinkers who admire the complexity and quirky aroma and flavor profiles of classic Wuyi oolongs.

This is a weird tea, and I don’t know what to think of it. Going by the description on the site, there is no way I would have bought this. It was a sample from a friend.

The first steep was a nice roast flavor on top of a green oolong flavor, which is interesting because there is nothing green about this tea. After the leaves have opened up a bit, that bright, lime flavor starts to come through. You probably know by now my disdain for citrus.

I’m kind of both ways on this tea. It’s…odd.

From the look of the leaf to the aroma it produced in the open air around it, this is one wonderful tea.

I use about 6g per 100ml which is heavy or me, but there is just something about the rich mineral content that comes through this fireroastedmaddess that I call a warming cup of tea.

Out of most 2016 productions this may be one of the top 10 because 2016 and oolong variations did not get along; and I will also chime in and say the 2016 Japanese green season wasn’t all that great either, but I only tried 12 variations and over 30 oolongs from China and Taiwan so maybe I’m not a good picking man anymore.

Was my side comment longer than my actual tasting note?

The scent of the steeped leaves is a curious combination of leather, cinnamon, and smoke. The actual tea tastes warm and toasty, a good bit mineraly, and slightly bitter. I drink it every now and again, but it’s nothing I’d purchase more of in the future.

Again, had over the weekend as one of the November TotM samples, and so it will have to wait until second tasting for detailed notes.

But the one thing that stood out was how floral this rock oolong was. Not a tieguanyin by any stretch, no. Nothing like that.

But compared to Big Red Robe, or to the Mei Zhan it definitely had a flower thing going on.