After realizing a lot of my sheng samples are probably too dry sitting in sealed bags in a drawer, I put them in their own storage separate from my cakes. Same system, though. Simple and lazy — open bags in a crock with a terra cotta saucer on top that I fill with a puddle of distilled water. Keeps the humidity around 60-65% until the saucer dries out, at which point I refill. Keeping the temp high enough is a different story this time of year (both crocks are sitting at about 62F) but I’m too lazy to do anything about it. No mold growth. I’m not concerned with the lack of consistent metrics.
My sample of 2016 teadontlie drank maybe 2 weeks ago was I think too dried out, I stuck all my older unknown/multiple origin samples in the new crock. They’ve been getting that good moisture for over a week. Last Thoughts being one of them.
I’ve been having gongfu withdrawal, being away from home dogsitting, so I went back to my place this evening. Mechanic friend was there alone with my girl sleeping on his lap. He appreciates what sheng I’ve shared with him so that was reason enough to bring out Last Thoughts for the first time. Twelve grams in the 200mL duanni clay pot (whether it’s legit, I don’t know but it is by far the soundest clay pot I have and at $55 from Healthy Leaf I couldn’t help it), boiling. No notes, just friendship.
First thought: this has to be Yiwu region.
Following thoughts: Thick fragrance. Great texture transition from sip to swallow. Sweet and thick on sip, smooth with fast tannins and lingering bittersweetness in back. Rounded and heavy but fills the whole mouth. Slides like silk out of existence when going down my throat, leaving a camphorous ghost of itself to rise from my chest and into my sinuses. Complex, swirl of tastes of overripe, sticky sun-warmed plum and melon oozing sweet powdered sugar onto a bed of dried but damp meadow florals, antique wood, grain, nut. A shy, fruity warm spice I can’t place wraps itself within and around the plum with gooey, gossamer threads. Apricot brightness becomes prevalent later.
Cha qi was definitely there, deceptively subtle in strength, leaving me one minute running my fingers through the basket of beans I’m drying and getting lost in their cool feel and sound; to the next minute lost in transition, only to find myself again a bit later kicked so far back in the kitchen chair that my neck was resting on the top of chair back and my rear at the place I know best, the edge of my seat, with legs outstretched. Friend commented on how soft my face and demeanor had become. He, too, had mellowed out into some flow state. Haven’t steeped it out yet.
Last Thoughts: lyrical liquid legato