Reading the Tea Leaves

Rocks loom large in classical Chinese landscape paintings, immovable and imposing, towering over a tiny human figure or two, if any human presence is to be found at all.

Inside Wuyi

Scholars’ Rocks, naturally occurring finds, were displayed in a studio or garden, and were admired for their natural form, texture, markings, and colors.  Given this rich tradition of rock aesthetics, the combination of unusual rock formations in the WuYi Mountain nature reserve and certain tea varietals is an especially felicitous one, giving rise to the class of teas known as Rock Teas.

Walking past a cluster of tea bushes in the Wuyi reserve.

Several famous mountains in China have long associations with teas: Yellow Mountain (Huang Shan) in Anhui, Mt. Emei in Sichuan, or Lu Mountain in Jiangxi are among them.  The acclaim accorded Rock Teas is more recent, as was the designation of WuYi’s reserve as a UNESCO World Heritage site.

Signage about Wuyi Teas near the entrance.

The Chinese word for rock or cliff has the character for mountain over the character for stone, a fitting rendering of the dramatic and imposing rock formations found at WuYi.  As for the teas, these are strains very much tied to this specific locale, these origin gardens, and their very names rightly bring to mind the best Oolongs of northern Fujian.

I have heard it said (by a tea grower) that a tea drinker may begin his or her tea journey with Jasmine Green, the familiar bouquet making it a friendly, easy tea to enjoy.  With more casual study or sampling, the next phase might be an exploration of Green teas, followed by lightly oxidized Oolongs from southern Fujian.  Within this group, as a person’s tea knowledge grows, TiKuanYin will be discovered and likely embraced.  Finally, our imagined tea enthusiast will come upon the more heavily fired Min Pei or northern Fujian Oolongs, with Rock teas at the top of the list.

The tea makers in this small pocket of northwestern Fujian are hardly impartial in their prediction, but this projection is thought provoking.

Set-up of Rock Oolongs to be tasted.

These Rock Teas do not come cheaply.

Small pockets of tea bushes among the boulders.

By the time some of them reach larger cities in China, their prices indeed seem inflated, although this does not seem to have dented their desirability as serious gifts.  But peel away the hype and self-promotion on the part of some vendors and there are authentic WuYi Rock Teas to be found without having to pay outlandish prices.  Here are a few to look for.

Hundred Year Shui Hsien and Shui Hsien from Wild Trees:  Shui Hsien (Water Sprite/Spirit) is a well known strain of Oolong, often the tea of choice in a dim sum teahouse/restaurant.  Here I am referring to Shui Hsien made from a very limited area where very old bushes, some nearly a hundred years old, and wild bushes are found.  The lower moisture of these old plants makes possible the heavy withering and long oxidation that a newer bush will not tolerate as well, resulting in a tea superior to those made from more recent plantings.  My notes describe an exceptional aroma and aftertaste, good complexity, hints of vanilla, and a soft, smooth cup.  Expect to pay over $85/lb.

A Shui Hsien from an "old" bush; the finished tea itself was made 6-7 years earlier.

Da Hong Pao

Da Hong Pao (Big Red Robe, Royal Red Robe): this tea is becoming better known beyond China, with its unusual name an attention-getter.  There are a couple of versions of a story that explain how the tea got its name, but the leaves are not red.  Much effort is expended on shaking and bruising the leaves in making this tea, ensuring the correct degree oxidation that follows.  Good for several infusions, Da Hong Pao is enjoyed for its fine, delectable fragrance.  Smell plays a prominent role in what we taste, and Da Hong Pao’s full flavor embodies this truism.

Walking towards a small one-storey house where the tea was being dried in baskets over charcoal, not ovens, we could detect the aroma well before we arrived.

Da Hong Pao being dried in small batches.

Another view of the drying baskets (another line of handicrafts):

Plucking was careful at the outset, yet more hand-sorting follows.

This is but one round of hand-sorting before DaHongPao is finished.

Fruit Fragrance Da Hong Pao: a newer version of the traditional style, this tea has no fruit or fruit flavors added to the tea.  A shorter firing period at a lower temperature brings out a floral or fruity note.

Another Da Hong Pao

There is a very small window in late March to early April for plucking and processing for the classic Da Hong Pao.  Cool days limit the yield while several hot days mean less than optimum leaves.  Fruit Fragrance Da Hong Pao allows more flexibility to accomodate the vagaries of weather conditions during those few critical days and is priced slightly lower than the classic Da Hong Pao.  Both styles will be priced at over $100/lb.

Rou Gui Rock Oolong

Rou Gui:  this tea’s name does not lend itself to any poetic or even prosaic translation.  “Rou” means meat, which seems totally unrelated to tea, but considered within the context of an agrarian society where much of the population survived at or just above the subsistence level, meat on the table signified celebrations or festive occasions.  “Gui” refers to bark or cinnamon, but neither is in the tea, nor does the aroma evoke this spice.

Compared with the Old Rock Shui Hsien or Da Hong Pao, Rou Gui undergoes lighter withering and lighter bruising, and shorter oxidation — all of which is reflected in a lighter brew color.  Rou Gui’s most distinctive feature is its aroma.  In my notes I wrote words such as amazing, stunning, wonderful, and yet beyond that, my notes also show that we as a group had a hard time coming up with descriptions to which we all agreed.  One person discerned pineapples with some mineral notes; someone else mentioned white peaches, echoed by one of the tea company’s staff members.  Another taster sensed orchards while others disputed that, finding fruits rather than flowers.  On that particular trip, even after tastings at various tea factories, each with its own Rou Gui, we never did arrive at a consensus about the best description that captured Rou Gui’s fragrance, even as orders were written.

More recently a Light-Fragrant style of Rou Gui has appeared.  The traditional Rou Gui probably retails at over $75/lb with the lighter, newer version priced around $50/lb.

These Rock teas demand and deserve a bit of patience.  The gratification may not come with the first sip.  With artificially flavored teas, the gratification is instant and immediate with the very first whiff and sip.  At a tea cafe recently, I ordered Pineapple Sencha Green, and as I took the first taste, there was a pleasant fruity note, leaving one only to consider how true to the fruit the flavoring was.  Halfway into the mug and through the second pour, the tea was the same — I was tasting pineapple and not much of the Sencha.  I felt I ought to finish since I was paying $5 for this individual serving.

With that bright gold cup of Pineapple Green, the pleasure that was so satisfying at the outset dwindled as I drank more.  The experience with high quality Oolongs is quite the opposite.  Give the leaves some time and the variation from cup to cup begins to develop, opening up subtly in a progression.  With one tea it might be the second cup that is the high point, while with another tea, it might be the third infusion.

Such a tea has only its leaves to offer, without the added advantage, if it could be considered that, of artificial flavors.  Rock Teas, or other “straight” teas for that matter, are a minimalist type of product, to be sure, but the processing and fussy attention coax from the leaf – in all its natural purity – much for us to savor.