At last, a certified organic tea that lives up to its promise! If fair trade and organic, sustainable farming are important enough to affect your tea choices, you’ve been forced to accept products that are often disappointing while still being more expensive than conventional tea. Organic certification is a long and difficult process, out of reach of many small producers and in the end it is no guarantee of quality. I’ve sampled too many organic teas that were anaemic in taste, composed of poorly broken and mangled leaves, or had some other painful flaws.
Hampstead Tea has finally given us not just one, but several organic black teas that can stand toe to toe with any other first-rate tea. They were kind enough to send my samples of their First Flush Darjeeling, and Makaibari Estate Darjeeling. Both possessed the rich flavours and just enough briskness to keep any Darjeeling drinker happy.
The Makaibari Estate Darjeeling is a light Darjeeling as appears to be common among the higher elevation farms. The aftertaste is as rich as your first sip and stays with you long after you’ve put down the cup. The First Flush Darjeeling is everything you’d expect; complex flavours, aromas, a lovely mouth feel, and just a hint of bitterness.
To be perfectly fair to you, I’ve been a bad blogger. The nice folks at Hamstead sent me those samples about 8 months ago, and I’m only posting this now. However, I’d like to add that since that time, my wife has purchased six more packages of Organic Fairtrade Darjeeling from Hamstead. It’s become our standard Darjeeling tea at home or in the office. I’m not going to go into loving detail about its characteristics, but it is so good that we keep visiting the one foreign foods store in Shanghai that always carries it.
If you care about fairtrade, or organic farming, or just plain good Darjeeling, then go check out Hamstead Teas. These teas are no compromise. They deliver on their promise. Time to go brew up another cup.
One of the many little things that surprised me about Shanghai is that people don’t strain out the leaves when drinking gren tea here. They just leave everything in the cup and drink around them. This is true whether you’re talking about a taxi driver with a plastic travel tea bottle or a traditional tea house serving the best Longjing in an antique gaiwan.
I was shocked when I first encountered the practice because one of the common topics among tea aficionados is the proper brewing duration for a given tea. Keeping the leaves in the cup appears to contradict the whole concept of there being an ideal brewing time.
It’s just another reminder that all aspects of tea drinking are ephemeral. Every moment is unique and one must accept the slowly evolving flavors and aromas in the cup as much as the passage of time that surrounds us. Sorry to get so metaphysical, but at the core of tea is the notion that this intersection of people and water and leaves and setting will never be duplicated. Each sip is a special event to be savored and enjoyed.
So I’ve finally settled down in Shanghai, and I’ve had enough time to find a few interesting people and shops. Today, I went back to the Laoximen Tea Plaza (an entire tea shopping mall) and spent a couple of relaxing hours with my friend David who runs the China Black Tea Development Company. His specialty, as you might expect from the name of his business is black tea, but his shop also boasts an impressive collection of Yixing zisha ware, otherwise known as purple clay teapots. We got to talking about his teapots, and I asked him if he could help me learn a bit more about this famous tea ware.
I’ve read about the special thermal properties of the pottery and how it holds some of the aroma and flavours from the tea brewed within the pot. David took this knowledge and gave me the 102 course, and I’d like to share some of that with you.
First of all zisha is the mineral from which the pottery is made, and it only comes from the area around Yixing. There are similar unglazed earthen wares that come from other areas and regions, but if it’s not from Yixing, then it’s not true zisha ware. The western name “purple clay” comes from the most common color, though the material also comes in shades of red and green depending on the mineral inclusions. Zisha is dug from the earth as a soft rock and is first ground into “sand”. When mixed with water is can be worked like clay, though is not a true clay.
One of the ways of telling zisha ware from clay fakes, is that the real McCoy looks brighter when wet. Another clue is that the texture of zisha ware is never perfectly smooth as little flakes (possibly silica or mica) are part of the mixture. Zisha ware also has something of a matte finish while clay duplicates are often shiny. You can also look at place where calligraphy or pictures have been carved into the surface. The inside of these carvings should be identical in make-up to the exterior of the pot. That is, if you broke a pot open, zisha ware should look like it is the same color and consistency all the way through the pottery.
All zisha ware is hand assembled, but less expensive pieces are made with the help of molds. To make the body, a flat rectangular piece of zisha is cut out. It is then wrapped around a positive mold, and then sandwiched between the halves of a negative mold. Handles, spouts, feet, lips, and lids are made by similar processes and then stuck together. Higher quality pieces are made instead by placing a cylinder of zisha on a wheel and beating it into the right shape without the help of molds. It is not raised pottery.
The various colors of zisha ware are prized for different teas. Red teapots, with a higher iron content, are preferred for brewing tieguanyin and similar styles of oolongs. At the same time, pu-erh drinkers gravitate towards green zisha ware.
In the name of transparency, I need to declare that Obubu Tea sent me a few free samples, so my opinion may not be entirely unbiased. You too can get some free samples if you poke around on their website. They are tea farmers, processors, and merchants in Kyoto, Japan. Their mission statement claims that they seek to create connections between tea farmers and drinkers, and they are certainly making a good start.
Obubu offers most varieties of Japanese tea including seven different kinds of sencha, everyday Japanese green tea. If you’ve read my other posts, you’ll know I’m a sencha drinker, so this is fairly exciting for me. But wait, what’s the difference between Kabuse Sencha, and Sencha of the Wind, and Sencha of the Summer Sun? Don’t worry. The good folks at Obubu provide exhaustive information on each tea. In an easy to read and understand format they list the flavour characteristics, and suggested brewing instructions. For the serious tea practitioner, they provide details about growing conditions, harvest time, and processing methods that really tell you what to expect from the tea. This is the kind of information that all online merchants should supply as a standard practice.
Their website also includes plenty of other goodies too. They post videos and photos, information about the company and tea culture in Japan. It is certainly packed with treasures for the tea lover to uncover.
I had the pleasure of trying Sencha of the wind. It’s a little lighter than prefer I, and the tea was a bit more broken than I expected, but I suspect the latter was due to it being an easily crushable sample packet. The taste was subtle and sweet, something connoisseurs would appreciate or those drinking sencha for the first time. Looking at the website, I can see exactly where these characteristics come from. The tea plants are grown in shade for the final two weeks before harvesting, plus there are a fair amount of stem pieces included. It is certainly a well crafted example of the tea.
Comparing what’s in my cup, to the information on the website, I think anyone can choose the right tea for their taste. Personally, since I prefer a more robust sencha, next time I hope try Obubu’s Sencha of the Earth, or Sencha of the Summer Sun. As with most quality Japanese teas, the prices feel a little high for my wallet, but I still look forward to exploring the rest of their offerings.
I want to reiterate, that Obubu doesn’t just list clever names for their tea. They go the extra mile to provide real information that consumers need in order to make informed decisions. Their website is a shining example of what all merchants should do for all of their teas, both on their website, and on tea packaging. They list the tea plant variety, cultivation conditions, harvesting period, processing methods, and the producer/location. This taxonomy is needed if consumers are to compare related products or the products from different merchants. Thank you, Obubu Tea for considering our needs too.
Also check out their “A Tea of Smiles” photo contest. You still have a week to enter.
I am a sencha snob. This can be somewhat awkward when a tea merchant asks me how I enjoyed their Japanese green tea. Often I just can’t give them the enthusiastic response they seek. Having said that, I start every day with a pot of sencha, and have done so for the past five years. I drink, and buy a lot of sencha so I’m allowed to be a bit picky. So today, I’ll list a few senchas that are a pleasure to drink, and describe why they made the grade.
At the top of the list we have a few expensive senchas packaged and sold by Japanese companies. If the Japanese think they are excellent, then they are bound to be expensive. They generally come from a single named farm, like a house reserve wine. The loose leaves are a lovely forest green. They are flat, small, unbroken needles with few bits of stem. When brewed, the tea is golden and the leaves turn a bright, vibrant green. The flavour is subtly vegetal, smooth, and fills the mouth. With these more delicate senchas, I lower my brewing temperature and lengthen my brewing time by a few seconds.
Hibiki An and Yamadashi are both top quality tea producers in Uji and you can find Yamadashi Ya in Kyoto, while Hibiki An sells online. Sebo Kochikuen is from Nagoya area and is unusual in that the loose leaves have a slight curl to them. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to acquire more, since it was a gift from a friend, but it’s the kind of tea you can find at the tea counter of a nice department store, or specialty tea shop in Japan.
At the lower end, we have some other teas that are not perfect by the Japanese standard, but are good enough for my daily cup. Mt Fuji International, and Harney & Sons Fine Tea (basic sencha) exemplify this category. The loose leaves have the same color as the more expensive sencha, but they are generally more broken, and contain more pieces of stem. The brewed tea is an emerald green and may even contain a noticeable amount of dust in the cup. The flavour of these senchas is usually a bit stronger and rougher, but they still should not be bitter. If the leaves are broken and dusty I reduce my brewing time by about 10 seconds. Fortunately, Mt Fuji and Harney & Sons are both online and reasonably priced. Both teas resemble what you would find in the tea isle of a Japanese grocery store. They may not be high end teas, but they are what most people drink every day.
What do all of these senchas have in common? They are fresh! When you open the package, they leaves are a dark green and your nose is assaulted by the fresh green tea aroma. Would you buy a brown and dry head of lettuce from the grocery store? Certainly not, so why would you by a tired, dry, straw-like sencha? Tea packaged in Japan stays fresh longer than sencha that is shipped to the US in bulk and repackaged locally. To some degree it doesn’t matter if it is high grade or low grade sencha as long as it reaches your cup while still fresh.
Narrow back streets twist between ancient stone facades of Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter. In this labyrinth of medieval buildings hides an oasis for the weary traveller. Antonio welcomed us to Caj Chai, a comfortably cosy tea shop and café tucked away in this colorful neighbourhood. Antonio is relaxed but confident about his art, and like any master practitioner, he keeps a few good tea books hidden away in his back room.
The shop boasts over a dozen Jananese teas from sencha to genmai-matcha to gyokuro. Since Antonio purchases them in small sealed packets directly from Japan, they stay spring-fresh. His menu also sports a handful of pu-er and green teas from China, as well as blacks and chai from India. What really stands out is the Caj Chai’s list of oolongs. For 15 euros, he’ll break out the gongfu set and walk you through the brewing process, or for a more modest price you can get a teapot and a thermos of water at your table.
It’s a great place to relax and de-stress, but don’t leave without checking out the shop’s collection of tea ware for sale. He imports both nice equipment for everyday use as well as a few works of art, including some of the nicest sencha teapots we’ve seen outside of Japan. He even carries work by a very promising Czech potter who trained in Korea, and produces clever designs inspired by the Chinese gaiwan.
Tea-Guy was kind enough to sponsor a contest with some great prizes. He asked tea lovers to share some tea moments with the rest of us by putting up a video on YouTube. Maura, my beautiful wife, put up her entry today, and I’d like to share that with you. She brews up some Korean nokcha with tea ware hand crafted by Park Bu Won. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
I was tired and cranky after wandering all over London in search of a good cup of tea. After supper, my wife forced me to stop at Yumchaa in Soho. I really wasn’t expecting anything, but the fine folks behind the counter completely salvaged my day. Their tearoom selection is almost entirely flavored and scented blends, but they don’t restrict themselves to black tea as a base. They offer classics like Jasmine, gunpowder mint, and lapsangsouchong, but they also carry their own creations like Wanderlust (sencha, apple, cinnamon and almond) and Notting Hill (keemun, apricot, strawberry, marigold and cornflower).
Unlike most establishments in the UK, Yumchaa dumps the loose leaf tea and water into a pot with plenty of room the leaves to unfurl. Then they leave it to the customer strain the tea into their own larch tea cups. Finally, we found a tea room that treats tea with the love and care it deserves.
No British tearoom would be complete without sandwiches and cakes. Yumchaa lives up to anyone’s expectations in this regard. My only complaint is that their room as a bit small and gets crowded on a busy day. Don’t let this put you off. It’s well worth the effort to drop by Yumchaa’s shop located between Tottenham and Oxford Circus tube stations.
One of the joys of being a student again is having access to interesting databases. Poking around the Library catalogue at my university, I noticed some articles from the 17th Century relating to tea and the East-India Company. Low and behold, they were links to images of these documents held in the Early English Books online database. I won’t reproduce any of the images here because I’m not certain of all of the copyright implications, but I will pull out some gems for your enjoyment.
“An Answer to a paper set forth by the coffee-men directed to the Honourable, the Commons in Parliament assembled being reflections upon some propositions that were exhibited to the Parliament for the changing the excise of coffee, tea, and chocolate into a custom upon the commodities.” This 1680 title is more than a mouthful, but it contains some statistics on coffee, tea, and chocolate consumption in England. According to the paper the British consumed the following:
“Coffee…100 Tuns a year” I assume they mean tons, but old measurement systems is not my specialty.
“Tea, 27000 Pounds a year”
“Chocolate, 6000 Pounds”
“Cocoa-nut, 300 Hundreds”
The purposes of the letter to Parliament was to argue the relative merits of various excise taxes proposed for these beverages. The source of the statistics was the Coffee-Men of London, who certainly had the best interests of their own business at heart.
Based in Paris, Le Palais Des Thes carries a world spanning selection of tea comparable to the offerings of Mariage Freres. You can visit their lovely shops in Paris, Oslo, and Tokyo. Their wares are tastefully displayed, and within moments of entering the shop, their helpful and knowledgeable staff offered us a cup of the day brew to sample. I was impressed to see teas from a few eastern European countries like Gerogia and even single estate teas from Africa.
The staff was well trained, and genuinely interested in tea. They were kind enough brew up some Dong Ding oolong at our request, and then they knocked our socks off with an amazing Jin Xuan. Their recomendations were in line with our interests and our budget. They didn’t push us into buying anything, but they directed us to some of their truly special teas.
I was quite impressed with both the service and selection at Le Palais Des Thes. I look forward to brewing up my purchases as soon as I can unpack my tea ware from storage.
Narrow back streets twist between ancient stone facades of Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter. In this labyrinth of medieval buildings hides an oasis for the weary traveller. Antonio welcomed us to 
Based in Paris, 
