About Teaware

I spend an awful lot of time at my tea table and just observe.  I listen to the sounds of the kettle, the feel of various teaware, the way each sip of tea feels to my body, and how different approaches to brewing can change those things in very subtle ways.  This is life, and has been life for the past few months: sitting on the floor after work, understanding that no great epiphany will occur; that this might be it for a while.

Life at the moment, minus a few people and things. The cat
Chopin is a semi-permanent fixture here.

I'm sure many of us at one point have sat around and wondered what that pretty gaiwan or new celadon cups would do for our brewing setup.  For some of us, only vintage will do, or maybe a matching porcelain gongfu set, or that uproariously expensive late qing dynasty era yixing pot.

What I'm here to tell you about is the importance of trying teaware out before you buy it, if possible.  This is especially true for teapots or anything glazed on the inside without a clear glaze over it.

The object in question.

I went on a quick trip to Seagrove, North Carolina in November to find some potential new teaware.  I've found great things in past trips, especially from Old Gap Pottery as well as from Jeff Brown.  My newest acquisition that day was a 'make do' cha hai without the handle from Dirtworks pottery.  It had visual interest and was inexpensive, so I parted with my money and went home.

After breaking in this new item by boiling it, I couldn't help but notice how different my tea sessions were.  The liquor was different in almost every way.  D'oh!  I had forgotten the water test!

The water test is a simple procedure where water is tasted with a constant (out of a kettle and into a gongfu cup) and a variable (putting the water in the new cha hai and then into an identical cup) and tasting the similarities and differences between the two.  What I found was surprising.

This little mutant cha hai that I had picked up removed most of the unique characteristics of the water's flavor and mouthfeel.  With tea, it did the same.  I would let stronger tea that I didn't intend on drinking sit in the cha hai for a few hours each day, hoping that the pottery would stop robbing the liquor of practically everything.  The flavor was gone, the mouthfeel was considerably worse, and the aroma was also largely absent.  Even with different water and different tea, the results were identical.

I'm an amateur potter, so I can only tell you a little about what I think is going on.  First, the clay is stoneware.  Second, the glaze is the standard white Amaco glaze, so it's fired around cone 5 or cone 6.  I doubt that it would be considered underfired in that instance.  I am open to the idea that the glaze is changing some aspect of the tea somehow, but beyond that, I'm unsure.  Regardless, I'm done using the newly acquired cha hai.

Okay, that last paragraph was rambling.
This isn't: Enjoy whatever new tea or teaware you acquire, and do your best to learn as much as you can from it.  See you next time.

Hey you guys.

Hey.

Okay, it has been a very long time since I've last written.  Before I explain, let me say this:  Having a serious tea hobby, a job, and deciding to learn about pottery is enough to take up all hours of the day.

I don't need to explain. You're smart!

Okay, so the last major event with tea was the southeastern tea meetup with Bears.

I sent Bears the pics that Jess and I took. He also used this photo - it's the list I made of teas that we had, who brought the tea, and who brewed it. In the cup- some kinda XZH sheng from 2006.  Shah82 brought it and brewed it.
A personal fave was Jason's 2007 Jin fo Yancha - complex, rich, and long lasting.  I felt it's energy surging through my body.  While it isn't the best thing to say here - you would've had to be there to really know.  Then again, maybe you already do!

Here's a gaiwan and part of a teapot.  They are both Jason's.  After the first and second visit I realized there was no real reason for me to bring teaware unless I just wanted to show it to others.  My teapots suck and/or are underfired.  So for the time being, I'll bring the best tea I can and leave it at that.

The final pic - the small pot behind the gaiwan is the sheng pot, the darker pot is the Yancha pot, and the pot on the left, I believe, is the shu pot.  We had one shu that Day - the 2008 Dayi Hong.  Jess brought it, I brewed it.  There's a sheng and shu version, and both are okay given what they are.

A fantastic trip overall.  A kind soul named Jess drove me while I filmed the trip, and we had to ride through heavy rain on the way back, so I drove for a bit of the way.  I'm not tall, but those small cars can really feel cramped sometimes.  I'd post those videos, but they need to be snapped together and rendered before they are view worthy.  Take care, dudes and dude-ettes.  (TMNT reference, anyone?)

Dao Tea's Jungjak

Things are changing all the time here.

It's finally gotten cool here, reaching the mid-thirties at night.  We have to wear hats and coats if we go out shopping during the evening, but otherwise it isn't too bad.

I took this sometime around October.

Korean green tea is completely new to me - and it is a gift from a dear friend who overheard me talking about getting around to trying it.  Here's a summary of it's description:  It's made in Hwagae Village in South Korea by a gentleman called Kim Shin Ho.  Dao tea, while I like the products they offer, I am not too fond of their descriptions of their teas.  It's a touch flowery and whimsical, where I think it would be better off more straightforward and solemn.  I also don't necessarily agree with the concept of "Tea Master".  My argument is simple: gradation in terms of simply doing one thing, such as making tea or playing guitar, cannot be measured in years or by how much tea one has made or how many years of practice one has had.  Therefore, mastery will not apply to all who practice the craft, because each one's experience is different.  The idea of mastery seems to imply a finite end to skill building, whereas in other places, one's skill will continually grow as long as they live.

One of the last roses of the year.

The Jungjak uses small grey-green leaves, with a good number of buds appearing after the first infusion.

The aromas present throughout the infusions was distinctively herbal, with vegetal and spice notes fading in and out through the four infusions.

Dao's Jungjak

The feeling of this tea was more or less what I would call a mixture between the Chinese and Japanese Styles.  Some umami in the first and second cups, with the light sweetness and mouthfeel of a Chinese green and the (sometimes) vegetal nature of a Japanese green.  In regards to qi, I felt very little.  Attempts to brew this tea with a heavier hand resulted in a rather potent bitterness, so I figured that I had this stuff dialed in better the first time around.

I like it, but I get the impression that there is better stuff out there.  I'll keep my radar out for Sejak and Ujeon grades this coming spring.  Once again, thank you for reading.

More Sencha and a whole lot of change

Things are changing for the better here in the Old South.  Leaves have fallen, the temperatures are no longer melting the soles of our shoes, and the author's life may be forever changed due to some recent events which I may or may not explain later.  The future has never looked so bright, so let's celebrate with an enjoyable sencha.


Hakoniwado's Yame Fukamushi Sencha has been one of the first enjoyable sencha's of the year for me.  I've tried about 12 others, but most of them just didn't have the depth that I prefer.  This sencha has that depth, along with a pleasant mouth feel and an energy that is truly intoxicating.  I will be the first to tell when I don't know something -  I don't know the term the Japanese use to describe the feeling a tea gives.  I doubt that it's the word qi, but one never knows.

I discovered this tea in the OTTI #11 on TeaChat, though I can't disclose which number it is in the group.

Small, Thin Leaves

I tend not to set up my photos to make them more appealing.  It goes back to something I learned when I was just getting involved in tea.  Tea is a humble thing, with very humble beginnings.  It's picked from a Camellia, which grows from soil, a conglomerate of all things that have decomposed over the years.  We brew the leaves in hot water, drink the liquid, savor it, and our bodies eventually take nutrients from it and convert the rest to waste.

That's not very pretty, is it?  Well, I ask you, who said it had to be?

I love this tea, and if you feel like it, try it yourself.  Brewed properly, it's a humble wonder to behold.

Describing the flavour would most likely be a moot point.

The Return of Autumn

The leaves are changing, it's 40-odd degrees out, and I'm using extra blankets at night to keep myself warm. It's an excellent time for a sencha.  Tonight, I'm looking over O-cha's Kabusecha.  This was one tea out of five that was presented in the 11th OTTI (Official Tea Tasting Initiative) from TeaChat.  Thanks to everyone who made this possible!

Fresh out of the sample bag, this stuff was quite dark green, and it had a roasted, grassy aroma rather than the fresh, bright aroma found in other similar tea.  While I have my ideas about what this may mean in terms of flavor, I will not share them here - as aroma and appearance do not always indicate kind of flavor will be present.

This kabusecha was medium-steamed and of the yabukita varietal.  The leaf itself is mostly shiny and somewhat thin and small.  

For the first infusion, I used 160 degree water for about one minute, and noted a thick tea liquor with a rather   intense umami and greenness.  The sweetness lasted for a long time after the 'gulp' - over 30 seconds of time went by before I started focusing on the retro-olfactory senses and the aftertaste.  The vegetal nature of this tea was overpowered by the umami and sweetness, and an hint of 'ocean' crept its way up midpalate before fading away.

Once the initial intensity of the first infusion had gone away, the tea became roasty and had a genmaicha sweetness to it, rather than just a pure sencha flavor to it.  Fern leaves, fresh salad greens (think Romaine lettuce) and more briny ocean-like flavor.  No surprises here, but I am enjoying the complexity.

Cup three continued the calmness of the last cup, but this time, the flavor made its way into new territory.  I experience what I can only describe as eggs with tabasco sauce.  I sat dumbfounded for a moment, asked the other members of the tasting about what they were thinking, then went right back into it.  As the unusual flavor faded, a distant planty sweetness slowly made it's way to the forefront.

Cup four showed a bright, sugary sweetness, light plantiness, and a fleeting hint of roast.  The mouthfeel had become thinner, but the flavor remained enjoyable for such simplicity.  The aftertaste was a spot-on reminder of fresh-picked sugar snaps.

The flavor ended at cup five, where it was just a light green liquid with a hint of sweetness.  All in all, I enjoyed this tea for it's complexity throughout the session, and the calming simplicity as it's end.  Farewell, kabusecha, you were quite educational.

Chopin drifts off during a tea session

  

2010 American Hao 1005

This blend of shu pu-erh leaves comes from menghai and lincang, Jim adds that " To enhance its depth, multiple grade, whole leaf raw materials were mixed." So that means that there are raw pu-erh leaves mixed in too?  We'll see!  This tea is rather newly pressed, and when I recieved the sample, the wo dui aroma was still very strong.  I let it sit out for about a month, then broke the 7 gram chunk into two 3.5 gram pieces.  (in case you didn't know, 3.5 grams is my starting point for almost all chinese teas that I brew gongfu style.)  I put my chunk into my 100 ml gaiwan. 

10s, 5s, 6s, 8s, 20s

The first infusion was pretty typical, but one thing that I didn't realize is that the qualities shown in this first cup would continue until the tea's flavor went away.  It started off bitter, which faded into a plummy-sweet and tart flavor, which was enjoyable, but it lacked any dark woody flavors.  The mouthfeel was rough and the body was thin, which may have been due to me using only 3.5 grams.  However, I obtained more of the 1005 and used 6 grams, only to find it had the same qualities.

The second and third cups showed the nature of freshly opened leaf.  A bitter oak flavor was very apparent on the palate, but it managed to fade and reveal more plum flavors.  The body was still thin and the mouthfeel was still rough.  So far it isn't too complex, but it is somewhat interesting. 

Cups four and five showed some improvement in body and mouthfeel as well as flavor: notes of cherry juice and plums riding on a dark oaky flavor with a light caramel undertone.  Unfortunately, all the cups after cup five were flavorless, so I simply noted that the session really ended at cup five. The spent leaves showed no trace of raw pu-erh leaves, so I wonder what Jim meant in his description?

Overall, this was an average affair.  Flavor, as most of us know, is one aspect of tea.  body, mouthfeel, qi, longevity, complexity, and aroma could be other categories by which we judge it.  This stuff had good flavors, but little of everything else.  As always, I'm thankful for having the opportunity to try it and will look forward to trying more teas from this vendor.

See you next month!

2010 Fall Yunnan "Purple Beauty"

We have a dilemma, albeit a small one.  Norbu teas has this stuff listed under green, oolong, and

 pu-erh, so classifying it may be a little bit difficult.  So to save ourselves any argument, I'm just

going to call it 'tea'.

It is written in the tea description that this tea comes from plantation bushes, which is fine, given the wholeness of the leaf.  The dark purple color is interesting, and the aroma hints at dark fruits simliar to plums or black cherries, along with a generic sweetness.

3.5 grams in a 100 ml gaiwan.

Rinse at 8s.  Infusions: 20s, 12s, 12s, 15s, 45s, 1m 15s, 2m.

The first infusion had a thick body, smooth mouthfeel, and leathery, plummy flavors.  The sweetness

 present was very dark, in a sense.  Think of it as opposed to bright sugariness, and that's what you'll

 have.  The aftertaste hinted at grain, but faded quickly.  Overall, a simple yet enjoyable first cup.

It's apparent to me now that the first cup was simply playing nice with me.  The second and third cups

of tea were stronger, showing much more depth and complexity, along with some bitterness.  The flavors

dominating this cup were dark fruit skins and mild, yet dark herbs.  The color of the tea liquor was

interesting as well, being a consistent yellow-brown throughout the session.  The mouthfeel was quite rough.

Cups four and five changed a good deal.  The liquor had completely lost it's aroma, and the complexity was

 replaced with simplicity (which is ok).  The tea now had flavors of a mild sweetness and bitterness, and

 the mouthfeel had become rougher than before.  There was a minute, fleeting herbal flavor as well.

Cups six and seven were simple:  mushrooms and bitterness. 

Overall this tea was just okay. Given that it seems to be more like a pu-erh than any other tea, I personally believe that age would improve this tea.  Remember, trying this tea or any new tea is worth the experience.

See ya.