Reading about ‘re-wilding’ nature, I’m drinking this beguiling Yiwu. The first two infusions leave me thinking my sample is dead. Or maybe ‘this’ is autumn yiwu? Sat in my tea space, fleeing the city around me, I search the cup for something more:
‘The suburbs dream of violence. Asleep in their drowsy villas, sheltered by benevolent shopping malls, they wait patiently for the nightmares that will wake them into a more passionate world’ J. G. BALLARD
Something happens. Each infusion slowly seems to bring the tea to life; to bring me along with it. Slight icing sugar and cooked pear that I barely caught on the front palate give way to a deep, gripping returning flavour in the throat. OK, ‘ancient’ arbor! Nectarine and marmalade don’t quite describe it. There are hints of passionfruit seeds, but not strong. This huigan is more than I’ve felt in a while and it’s taken hold. The effect is uplifting and I absent mindedly forget to monitor increasingly long infusions.
After maybe 10 long steeps, the sounds of the city return around me. TVs battle for volume, but I’m at peace.
Conclusions: late blooming and not a very powerful tea, this yiwu took me by surprise with how gripping it is. Another reviewer on YS speculates it’s like a caterpillar lying in wait of a bright future. I haven’t the experience to say. But it doesn’t have particular bitterness or astringency to back up its mostly sweet and fruity profile. That said, the huiguan left me well pleased.