1007 Tasting Notes
Accidental 5-minute steep gave a robust cup, dark, full-bodied and woody-brisk with a very muted muscatel undertone. I feel a little crazy that I’m the only one that seems to have picked up on any muscatel. Some very smooth and gentle malt softens the tingly astringency and tannic edge.
I really enjoy the level of flavoring here. It is not overwhelming. The grapefruit reminds me of Harney’s Paris and Tower of London. The caramel lends to the perception of a touch of dark sweetness. The combination of those two aromas leaves a nose that offers something a little different from the familiarity of Harney’s popular bergamot-flavored black teas. I enjoyed Indian Nimbu even with over-steeping. Kiki, on the other hand, had not a word to say about this tea, even with a properly brewed cup. Thank you for sharing a sample, Cameron B. :)
Flavors: Astringent, Bergamot, Caramel, Dark Wood, Malt, Muscatel, Oak, Tannic
How cute is that wrapper, and when paired with a name like Little Walk?
My cousin got married this past weekend, so a lot of the family was in town. My oldest younger sister and I were pretty much glued to each other for her few days out here. I spent the first five years of her life growing up with her; the bond is undeniably there but due to various reasons, we hadn’t really talked to each other in our adult lives until the wedding.
Way to make my heart swell, white2tea. This makes me feel so happy to have experienced those formative years with my sister and to have reconnected with her so many years later.
The tea — the artwork pairs so well with what this tea is — simple and pure. At first the taste is very sweet yellow beany and feels very cool in the mouth. Strong, sweet milky-vegetal aftertaste. Some flowery bitterness moves in and also some green woody-mineral astringency, enough to let you know what sheng pu’er is about. There’s a kind of bright apricot tone that uplifts the sweet beaniness. About 4 infusions in, I got bored but kept pressing to see how it would go. Turns out his tea does have some longevity.
If Little Walk were still available, it would be my #1 recommendation for those new to sheng pu’er. It hits on everything I’d expect to find in sheng without either getting smacked in the face or left searching for something — cleanliness, sweetness, bitterness, astringency, structured mouthfeel, cooling huigan, an aftertaste strong enough to easily notice.
Thank you White Antlers, and a special thank you to mrmopar, too, since I know well the unique handwriting on the label ;)
Flavors: Apple, Apricot, Astringent, Beany, Bitter, Caramel, Citrus, Flowers, Green Wood, Lemon, Milk, Mineral, Mushrooms, Pine, Stewed Fruits, Straw, Sugarcane, Sweet, Vegetal
Dry, this smells a lot like the other teas I received from White Antlers — kind of perfumey and like buffalo grass. It’s pretty brown leaf though and as Life in Teacup states, had been subjected to 7 years of dry Guangzhou storage. I can definitely smell the storage in the warmed and rinsed leaf with lots of traditional Chinese medicine character.
The brew tastes a lot like mushroom broth and smoky leather. Nuances of cognac fruitiness, sweet mushroom, walnut bread, wet rocks, eucalyptus and camphor, old flowers, spicy wood. It’s oily but a little flat feeling. Mild bitterness and an astringent undercurrent. Date-like returning sweetness only last for the first several infusions. Handles absent-minded infusions well. Very long-lasting stimulation.
For the price of 20c/g, this is a fair gem of an aging tea and an easy drinker with no heavy wet storage character. However, if you’re picky, there is a sour, lemony aftertaste that might deter. I’d personally like to try this with another 3-5 years of that same Guangzhou storage it had from 2008 to 2015.
Thank you White Antlers for sharing, and I do hope you come back soon!
Flavors: Baked Bread, Brandy, Broth, Buffalo Grass, Camphor, Dates, Eucalyptus, Fig, Flowers, Honeysuckle, Leather, Lemon, Medicinal, Mushrooms, Pleasantly Sour, Red Fruits, Savory, Smoked, Spicy, Walnut, Wet Rocks, Wood
Backlog from March 2021. Sample from Martin of 2018 harvest. Thankee :)
More aromatic than flavorful; bright and oily; deeper, unique flavors brought out by higher temperatures. Too much of that weird, primal, ephedra-like energy I get from high quality Jingmai teas.
Flavors: Allspice, Apricot, Berries, Cinnamon, Citrus, Citrus Zest, Flowers, Forest Floor, Honey, Rainforest, Savory, Straw, Wood
Clearing and cleansing, awakening aroma. Good first tea of the morning to nurse me out of a hangover and little sleep (bigfatgreekwedding). Dry grass gunpowder green tea with subtle bitter-smokiness, bright and sharp spearmint. Gently sweet, mineral-astringent tingling. Good balance to this tea.
Flavors: Astringent, Bitter, Dry Grass, Mineral, Smoke, Spearmint, Sweet, Warm Grass
This tea, what the fuck. And reading tea notes from Sierge, another what the fuck. Funny thing about the internet is the blur between man and machine.
Yesterday started the day prior. Maybe several days before that into last week. The sky drops a stone, Sierge drops a note, or in the case of what’s actually been happening in the Garden of Derk, a mosquito drone zips up up down down left right left right b a start in my airspace, hovers over my neighbors’, slowly pivots and snaps photos (a government operative so says neighbor-across-the-way), elicits a scream from me into the windstorm of the night. I can’t sleep with… that… buzzing… in. my. ear! The ribbon-scrawls of my vibrating chords out the sliding glass door get snagged in the beak of the raven that rains the fruits of the giant date palm upon our heads and the garbage cans below with dark comedic sounds of dullish thunk and plastic clunk. The operator is an operative; it cannot sense my anguish. My calls to the operator to cease and desist are truncated by the wind changing direction and the drone slicing up the night.
A drone drops a bomb, a raven drops a date, a hawk fights above with a crow and one of them drops a third bird in the bath below. And another, and another. A quiet war in an overlain world rages for our garden. We tip the bird bath several times daily toward the cat graves under the lemon tree. The residuum of war — a stew of sun-warmed water and remnants of tiny beasts — a bony wing, a clawfoot, a spinal chord, engorged entrails, waterlogged lucent lizard skin — nourishes the seed and cultivates the strange. Rinse and refill.
A derk drops a bean and it grows.
The tendrils of weird snake their way through the days, twirling and weaving, winding and binding the feet of unaware apes. You know the sound of a growing woody vine? It crunches the large, dry leaves on the floor in its slow wake. A sound one cannot discern unless one is tuned into their own insidious nature when surrounded by silence. An arthritic hand of earth assembles itself. “It’s time,” it says and reaches out to touch tips with a fallen Buddha’s hand and the two hands, snickering as one, pull the chain of monkeys to the ground.
Somebody passed, another was born, another took hand, another retired, many resigned, an innocent question rang a bell that nobody knew needed ringing. Raw energy oozed from the crevices of the earth, crept from the cracks in our collective being. The vine was tensed, the tail was tugged, the dog had bit and we all fell to our knees, stinging palms with rocks embedded, bruised egos pounding dirt. Still, so many felt the full force but did not register the complexity. And after, we all got up and brushed ourselves off.
This week was a weird one and I think this tea precipitated from my own vessel into a teacup all these fucking weird feelings and I must keep drinking of the earth and the dark beauty of nature in order to understand. And occasionally generate some clicking sounds into the void. Humans want to make sense of things. Funny, I cannot do that with this tea.
Flavors: Berries, Campfire, Cotton Candy, Lemon, Lime, Olive Oil, Raisins, White Wine