Reading the Tea Leaves

In a blog titled “Abstract City” (New York Times 12/2/08) the artist Christoph Nieman illustrates and recounts with admirable humor his ups and downs in his relationship with coffee.  He writes that when he was seventeen, he “loved the concept of coffee, but resented the taste.”

As I wrote elsewhere, I have wondered if all those people who drink flavored teas are more connected to the idea of drinking Tea and not so enamored of the teas themselves, unless they have been “improved” with the addition of (usually artificial) flavorings.

A quick scan of tea offerings online, retailers’ lists and tea menus shows that flavored teas sometimes equal and may even outnumber the varieties of unflavored teas. These buying decisions must have been made in response to customers’ preferences.  At one tea cafe in Manhattan, to guide the novice perhaps, the most popular teas are starred.  Of these 25 best sellers, 19 were flavored teas.

I do not include here naturally scented teas, such as Jasmine, in the category of flavored teas.  Earl Grey, always a top seller, may have been flavored with either natural or artificial bergamot flavoring, a distinction of which not all retailers may be aware or advised.

The attraction of flavored teas, of course, is based on their familiar flavors, such as strawberry, mango, even tiramisu — all of which sound enticing.  Combine that appeal with a warm beverage made from green, natural, and/or organic material (tea leaves) and it’s easy to see why this is a winning match.

Flavorings are “sprayed” onto tea leaves by churning the (finished) leaves in a tumbler while the flavoring, a viscous oil-like liquid, is added.  When dried there isn’t much visual evidence that something has been added.  The fragrance, on the other hand, almost overwhelms, and precautions must be taken not to place these teas too close to unflavored teas.

To make these teas even more alluring, bits of flowers and fruit are introduced; I’ve even seen carrots, and I have to admit that the results are beguiling.  Delicate petals in rainbow colors, morsels of berries are all there to seduce.  If the actual bergamot fruit (aka Buddha’s Hand) can’t be used in Earl Grey, then the tea may be enhanced with flower petals, to mark it as something above and beyond the ordinary Black or Green tea.  Cranberries with their beautiful natural color are a wonderful addition in themselves, even though the flavor is light, and to take the tea to another level, bright colorful petals are used.  In sum, these teas look intriguing and tempting.  They look festive, and if they remind one of potpourri, perhaps that is not a deterrent to some.

A flavored Green (from Germany)

If you have tasted a Japaense or Chinese “straight” Green tea, you might well argue that these were not really very good.  If the tea happened to be steamed Sencha, you might have detected grassy notes, appealing to some, offputting to others.  A high grade Sencha, on the other hand, tastes clean and sweet.

A premium Sencha (Japan); compare these leaves w/those in photo above.

If the Green teas that you’ve had were Chunmee’s or Gunpowder Greens, I would probably agree with the critical review.  It’s hard for these types of Green teas to stand up to a peachy Green.  I find Gunpowder Green too smoky for my taste, and Chunmee’s don’t have thata cleansing character with a sweet finish that I look for in Green teas.  That’s a personal preference.  But given that these two and Sencha are perhaps the most frequently seen loose teas on the market, their flavor profiles hae informed what many people think of when offered Green tea.

Turning to White teas and the burgeoning interest in them, if you’ve paid for White Silvery Needles at $100-120/lb, so that even a mere 2oz would have been between $12-15, you probably got a very mild tea.  “Soft in flavor” might be a kind way to describe this very light tasting beverage.  And you got some beautiful unopened buds.  If you have tasted Bai Mudan (White Peony- no flowers), you might wonder what all the fuss is about.  Bai Mudan leaves certainly don’t look white except for a few strands of silver needles, and the light orange cup has a pleasant flavor, perhaps with a slightly nutty taste.  Color-wise, it seems suspiciously close to a cup of weak Black tea.

So why am I still making a plea on behalf of conventional, unflavored teas?  It seems an uphill battle especially if one considers that it’s probably more difficult to be weaned off the more dominant flavors and to move to brews that are more subdued and lacking those sparkly flavors that have been ingrained in our taste memory: mandarin orange, cinnamon, chocolate.

When I have offered what I consider to be well made flavored teas (Blood Orange Black, Raspberry Black with big bits of fruit, Peach Green that our company brings in from Germany) to some of our suppliers in China, they readily acknowledge how pretty the teas are, and yet even the obligation of politeness does not persuade them to finish their teas, finally confessing that they find the taste “too false.”

So I can imagine the reverse situation: how a person, accustomed to Moroccan Mint Green or Strawberry Cream Black teas, might react when offered an unflavored tea.  To be fair, the unflavored tea should be of good quality if it is to show off its best attributes.  Even at their lofty prices, some White Silvery Needles taste better than others.

I am quite capable of enjoying sips of flavored teas, and there are occasions, say, Thanksgiving, where a Cranberry Green or Cranberry Black tea adds a nice touch to the close of a meal.  But I find that the pleasure of such teas diminishes quickly, whereas with quality unflavored teas, there are nuances inspiring or demanding us to take sip after sip, all the while trying to pin down the flavor or aroma.  And with a big Oolong, the entire olfactory and tasting experience heightens after the initial cup, building up to the second and third, and gradually winding down after the third or fourth (small) cup.  And one would do well to remember at this juncture that nothing has been added to the leaf except its crafting.

I was once somewhat dismissive about Jasmine teas, adopting the notion that one is smelling and tasting, no matter how poor or great the quality of the tea material, the flower, albeit one that yields a friendly and fine bouquet.  When opening a new sample of  Dragon Silver Curled Silver Tip Jasmine, for instance, I was likely to think it a pity that such a great tea was not enjoyed on its own but “covered” by Jasmine.  Lately, however, having seen part of the processing that goes into making Jasmine Green teas, I have become more appreciative of the labor and effort.  There is a place for the inexpensive Jasmine that is a standard in Chinese restaurants, but if you are paying a premium for a lovely high quality Jasmine, you ought to be enjoying the outstanding workmanship that went into the leaves as well.

It is perhaps presumptuous to begrudge those who opt for flavored teas. But think about your wine choices — are you moving towards the aisles where wine coolers are or wandering off to explore lesser known wines from Chile, New Zealand, or Oregon?  I enjoy well made sangria as much as the next person — a drink made with real fruits, and much prefer that to a pinkish concoction that may taste like strawberries because that’s the flavoring that’s been added.

I used to think that it perhaps it didn’t matter all that much if flavored teas seem to be ever expanding in new flavor combinations; after all, people were at least drinking teas – a good thing for importers who bring in the teas that are the base for such blends.  But I see a flaw in my reasoning, and that is because it may be hard to convert from the flavored to the unflavored, seeing as how dominant – might I say, overpowering – those added flavors can be.  Will someone who has enjoyed flavored teas ever be satisfied with good, but unflavored, teas?  Do additions such as Ginger Apricot or Bourbon Vanilla spoil the taste buds with their palate-popping flavors that no straight tea can match? I hope to be proven wrong.

There are better teas out there, all tasty on their own.  They may be subtle but one’s palate can be discriminating.  The first sip of a flavored tea may be seductive, but there is little dynamic in the cup; the second pour is likely to be a bit weaker but I find there is little sense of the leaves opening up or revealing their character.  Indeed, that character has been overshadowed by whatever flavoring essence was used.

Authentic teas do require a bit of patience. Green teas are a good example.  Watching someone who’s new to tasting and sampling calls up the confusion, mixed with a bit of frustration, that arises since they all taste or less the same and moreover, a bit vegetal too!  But a with a willingness to experiment, one may find that it isn’t necessary to trick your tastebuds to make your mouth happy, and there is also the satisfaction of knowing that any aromas and flavors you sense are derived entirely from the leaf itself and absolutely nothing else.