I feel like celebrating. I got a new pot for my birthday. Milche’s latest blood tests came back much improved. It’s been way too long since I’ve done a tea review, so let’s throw one up here!
I love my new pot. The turtle at the top is what really sold me on it. I’ve named him, and the entire pot by extension, Ralph, after the pet Florida softshell turtle I had in high school. Ralph is made of silver, which is supposed to affect the flavor of the brew. I haven’t noticed anything overtly different, but I’ll have to do a side by side review sometime. In case you were wondering, he comes from Yunnan Sourcing.
And the teapet? His name is Terrence, and he’s actually pretty cool. Terrence is the first (and probably last–there are only so many teapets a person can own) of my color changing teapets. Here’s a video of Terrence in action. He came from a random seller on eBay.
I have a sample of White2Tea’s 2011 Fuding Aged White Tea that I want to try before I place my order for 200 of their A&P cakes (okay, not literally 200 cakes, but A&P is so very good). I don’t have much experience with white tea. I’ve tried my grocery store’s okay brand, What-Cha’s incredible Kenya “Rhino” White, and some unidentified white squares that Liquid Proust is selling offsite that are pure honey. So far, I’ve been very satisfied with my white journey. But aged white? I’m not so sure.
This isn’t the prettiest sample, but then again we don’t drink tea for the looks. If I raked up a bunch of leaves in my front yard, pressed them tightly together, and left them to rot for a year outside, this sample is how I would imagine those leaves to look. The picture of the whole cake on the website looks better, so maybe I just got a bad section.
There was some question as to what temperature I should brew at, so I brewed about 9g in my 160ml pot, going back and forth between 200º and 212ºF. Brew times started at a couple of seconds and increased as the tea died. I think the last steep, which is the one pictured, ended up being about 5 minutes. I’ll give you a little spoiler at this point: I enjoyed this tea at both temperatures, so it didn’t matter. The leaves brewed into a stunning red, a color I wasn’t expecting from the leaves.
The tea starts out medicinal. I didn’t really understand that description when people used it for white tea, but I certainly do now. It proves that even when a description is relatable, it sometimes won’t make sense until you actually experience it for yourself. I also got a lot of autumnal leaf pile flavor. To be honest, I didn’t really enjoy the first three steeps of this tea at all.
Like the clouds parting after a storm, the flavor began to open up and become pleasant and warm at the fourth steep. The transformation began with some cinnamon and a touch of honey, though autumnal leaf pile was still the predominating flavor.
It was a freezing cold day, so the brew cooled quickly. At that point, I got a hint of green apple skin, which is a first for me in any kind of tea—pretty impressive! As much as I would like to think that it is my palate adjusting to detect the finer points of a brew, in preparation for my become some sort of tea tasting superhero, it’s probably just the tea being awesome.
As the leaf mellows out and begins to die, it keeps surprising me with other flavors: vanilla, honey, and dried flowers.
I think my White2Tea doomcart just got a little more expensive.
Some people spend time with their families on Labor Day. Some people drink a lot of chocolatey teas and do a lot of typing. Can you guess which I am?
Intro to Laoshans
Last week, I did a post on comparing Verdant’s regular and reserve grade Laoshans, and as you can see from my last post, I just got a shipment of blacks in from Yunnan Sourcing, which included both grades of their new Laoshans. Normally I wouldn’t buy both grades from two companies like this, but as Laoshans are my favorite, I thought it would be a good idea to really dig into the differences between grades and companies.
For those who don’t know, Laoshan teas are grown in the Laoshan region of China. I’ve seen greens and oolongs produced in that region (I have an oolong sample I can’t wait to try, but I wasn’t wild about the green), but blacks are my favorite from Laoshan. The typical flavor profile for a Laoshan black is cocoa to chocolate, dark to light breads, and yeasty. It’s about as close as you can get to a dessert without adding flavorings.
A Note on Bias
The great thing about being new to the world of tea is that I am coming in with my own set of expectations. I don’t really care if the tea community has something against an owner or marketing techniques. You can tell me that the tea comes from trees that were blessed by Jesus himself and then stored in the emperor’s private cave in jars made from the first yixing pots out of the famous Dragon Kiln, and I’m still going to be judging it on its flavor:value:feeling ratio.
That being said, accidental bias is still a thing. So I will be tasting all four teas: Yunnan Sourcing for the first time and Verdant as a refresher. Then I’ll do a blind taste of all four.
Prepping for the Showdown
I thought I had a lot of teaware until I started this experiment. Then I realized I don’t have enough gaiwans or enough identical cups to do a fair color comparison while brewing all these teas simultaneously. Though it isn’t ideal, I am going to have to brew these up one at a time.
While this is a lovely excuse to have to go out and get more teaware, I am going to see how often I run into this problem before going gaiwan shopping.
Dry Leaf Comparison
Visually, all four of these look pretty identical. There is some slight color variation, but the difference is so slight that it’s hardly worth noting. The real difference in dry leaf comes from the smell. I didn’t know that these companies sourced from different farmers when first began this test. I actually suspected that they came from the same location. But it’s immediately apparent from the scent of the leaves that these are NOT from the same farm. A little research as I am writing this up reveals that Verdant comes from the He family farm, and Yunnan Sourcing comes from the Liang family farm.
YS Classic vs. YS Imperial
The classic version smells a little like Hershey’s chocolate, maybe with a touch of raisin and a nutty, Halloween candy sort of scent. The Imperial grade is even sweeter, and it smells EXACTLY like the bottom of a Halloween candy bucket the night after a humid Florida evening of trick-or-treating.
YS Classic vs. Verdant Classic
The smell of these dry leaves is almost identical, but the Yunnan Sourcing smells just a touch stronger.
YS Imperial vs. Verdant Reserve
This comparison had the most distinct difference in aroma. Verdant is a dark cocoa butter where Yunnan Sourcing is that sugary Halloween candy. If I breathe in the Yunnan Sourcing first, my nostrils are so washed out with the Halloween scent that the Verdant no longer smells sweet at all to me.
Once brewed, the wet leaves lose their Halloweeny smell, for which I am grateful. Trashy American chocolate isn’t really my thing in either tea or food form. The aroma is more like a burnt chocolate pudding, a scent I can definitely get behind. I’m one of those people that actually enjoys eating the skin off of a cooling chocolate pudding.
The brew is a bit thin, lacking in body and depth, for a black tea. There is a light cocoa flavor, a sugary sweetness, and a hint of yeasty sourness. That hint of Halloween candy is back on the finish. As the brew cools, it gets sweeter. There is also some slight astringency on the back of the palate.
Subsequent steepings reveal a bright, yeasty honey flavor with a wash of cocoa on the finish. Though it’s still on the astringent side, the brew definitely thickens and sweetens as it cools. I’m still getting that Halloween candy flavor out the nose.
Though this tea is perfectly pleasant, I know I’ve had better Laoshans than this.
Yunnan Sourcing has this to say about the Classic: “Our Classic grade, although not as small and fine as its Imperial counterpart, it is more robust in taste and has more of a dark chocolate bite to it. It is very smooth with a golden yellow tea soup that is viscous and soupy.”
The brew to this smells more appealing after the Classic version—more like a chocolate biscuit. The wet leaves almost smell like a hot cereal with cocoa. There’s something almost liquor smelling about the brewing leaves that leaves me a little dizzy with anticipation. I’ve never had the Godiva chocolate liquor, but it’s how I would imagine it to smell.
The cocoa flavor is much more pronounced than in the YS Classic.; it comes out of my nose as I breathe out. The dark chocolate flavor becomes sugary as it cools, and the flavor turns a little bready. I’m getting chocolate croissant feelings from this tea. There’s a bit of astringency that brews out in subsequent steeps, and any bitterness is like that of a dark chocolate rather than a bitter black tea; it’s very faint.
Yunnan Sourcing has this to say about the Imperial: “The taste is sweet and voluminous with notes of cane sugar, chocolate and baked yams. The Classic Laoshan Black we offer is also excellent with a more robust taste and a little more of the dark chocolate bite to it. I recommend getting a little of each grade to start and then decide for yourself which you like best!”
I’ve already weighed in on the fact that I don’t agree with their assessment between Classic and Imperial. I didn’t really get much sweet potato from these, and even if I somehow missed it, it’s definitely nothing like you would get from a Yunnan black. I pretty much only agree with the chocolate and sugarcane notes.
Verdant Rehash and Comparison
As I pointed out in my post on reviewers, taste is determined by a lot of different factors. So I did a quick rehash of the Verdant teas not only so they would be fresh in my mind, but also in case there was something in my mood or environment affecting how I am tasting the tea today.
This has a very pronounced bready taste, but it isn’t like the dark bread of the Verdant Reserve. It’s more like a chocolate biscuit. There’s much more yeast and much less cocoa flavor than the two higher graded Laoshans.
This is definitely a very, very dark yeasty bread with a dark chocolate. The brew comes out much darker and redder than the other teas on the first steep.
Comparing this brew to the YS Imperial, the chocolate notes are more pronounced, and the brew is smoother without the astringency.
Blind Tasting and Final Rankings
I was thinking at this point that I had a pretty good idea where my rankings were, but it’s always a good thing to eliminate bias when doing a taste test. I assigned each tea a number 1-4 and mixed them up so I no longer knew which leaf was which.
I managed to correctly identify each tea, so I’m definitely not imagining the differences in taste. Here are my final rankings:
Tied for 1st and 2nd Place: Verdant Reserve and Yunnan Sourcing Imperial
3rd Place: Verdant Classic
4th Place: Yunnan Sourcing Classic
Bonus Neophyte Round
As I’ve mentioned before, my husband isn’t really into tea. I always give him sips of what I am drinking, and he usually responds with, “Tastes like tea.” I left the brews in the bubble cups out until he stumbled out of bed. The brews were cold, but that hardly mattered to him. There were no identifying marks on the teas; only I knew which was which. I had him rank them, and though he said he had some trouble distinguishing between the four, his final rankings were similar to mine:
Yunnan Sourcing Imperial
Yunnan Sourcing Classic
I like to weigh cost vs. flavor, so let’s look at the rankings again with price per gram (note that these are bullets and not numbers…I’m not subliminally ranking 1st and 2nd:
Verdant Reserve: $0.30 per gram
Yunnan Sourcing Imperial: $0.19 per gram
Verdant Classic: $0.18 per gram
Yunnan Sourcing Classic: $0.12 per gram
In my opinion, this makes things pretty clear. Flavor wise alone, I would say Verdant Reserve just barely nudges out Yunnan Sourcing Imperial. But if you add in the price differential, I would say the final, final rankings are thus:
Yunnan Sourcing Imperial Grade Laoshan Black
Verdant 2016 Reserve Spring Laoshan Black
Verdant Spring 2016 Laoshan Black
Yunnan Sourcing Classic Grade Laoshan Black
I should note that I re-steeped all the used leaves western style separately throughout the day so I could get an impression of each tea on its own without a comparison. All of the teas were lovely on their own, with sweet, chocolate notes just like they should have. It’s only on sitting down and comparing them that I can find flaws and distinct weaknesses. So take from these reviews what you will. Whether you prefer the sound of a certain flavor profile I’ve described or you want the absolute cheapest tea possible, it’s going to be a pleasant experience.
Liquid Proust Teas came out with a couple of new blends, and since I want to try them, I need to sip through what I have of LPT’s blends to decide what I want to reorder. This seemed like a perfect opportunity to kick off the tea reviews on this new blog, especially since today (the drinking day, not the posting day, is Andrew’s birthday). So here it is:
Liquid Proust Teas Sipthrough
Disclaimer: I happen to know the owner and blender behind Liquid Proust Teas. Personally, I think this gives me a better insight into the blends, as I know the hyperactive, inappropriate, generous, and passionate soul behind the tea. Some might think that my reviews would be biased as a result, but I will be drinking these and will review them honestly; you’ll know what I liked and what I didn’t.
So, the thing about Andrew is that he chooses the best ingredients for what he wants to make. I don’t know where he gets the ideas for his creations, but if he wants to do a black tea blend, he finds the best, highest quality black tea possible to meet his vision. If he wants to use an ingredient, he experiments with the best way to integrate the ingredient.
This makes it nice, because I don’t have to wonder whether or not I am drinking some old stuff sourced from any old wholesaler. I can concentrate on whether or not the blend succeeded and if I liked it. Since Andrew and I have very different palates, he doesn’t always succeed with me personally, but it IS always an experience.
I got this as a sample, which is the only way I would have encountered this tea. I hate Earl Grey; the bergamot usually tastes “dirty” to me, and as a former Florida girl, I can’t stand citrus scents and flavors. The tea base is usually nothing special to me, so with all those downsides, why bother?
I should have bothered.
The tea itself is beautiful, with cocoa-colored curls of leaves and bright pink petals. It’s an interesting choice, as the bougainvillea-colored petals combined with the creamsicle aroma of the blend suggests a tropical experience is to come. It clashes a bit with my mental picture of what an Earl Grey should be, which features me dressed in a lace hat holding a porcelain teacup and saucer with my pinky in the air.
Once brewed, the liquid has a honey smell that comes out strongly in the flavor. The base tea is sweet and vibrant with honey and floral overtones. I’m not sure if the floral flavor comes from the flower petals or the base, but it’s light and not soapy at all (which is how I typically tend to perceive florals). The bergamot is fresh tasting and bright. It may be a little on the light side for some people, since I didn’t consider it too much. And believe me, I was looking out for it.
The bergamot does get too powerful as the tea cools, however. It’s like I squeezed a full lemon into the cup.
I enjoyed this tea a lot, and I’ll definitely be getting more. It was the perfect blend of fresh and bright, floral and fruity tasting. I discovered that I do like bergamot oil, if only whatever fancy and difficult-to-find or whatever bergamot that Andrew managed to get for this tea.
I don’t have any special insight into this tea, but based on the blend’s name and the longer description on the website, I get the impression that this blend is the “flagship” of Liquid Proust Teas.
The blend looks dark and delicious: crinkly black wads of sun moon lake, furry golden curls of bi luo chun, and giant pecan pieces candied in impossibly dark sugar. The sugar comes through in the aroma of the dry leaves, but I’m not sure where the scent of raisins comes from.
Once brewed, the tea has that smell of chocolatey, cinnamon bread that comes with most Yunnan black teas. Since this tea is supposed to be a reflection on love, I expected a lot of chocolate and fruity notes.
My first thought on the first sip was “WHOA, complicated.” There are a lot of layers to this tea, so this will probably be a long review. This is an introspective tea, something to spend a quiet afternoon on, thinking.
I like to call teas like this traveling teas—the teas whose different flavors light up the regions of the tongue as you swallow. The dark flavors are the ones that hit first, which are sweet potatoes and cocoa. Then the tea hits the middle of the tongue with brighter flavors, like sugary red fruits. I’m going to tell you now that I suck at identifying fruits in teas, so red is as close as you’re going to get. As the brew fades in the back of the mouth, there’s malt, a little bit of astringency, and a honey-like sweetness. I also got some vanilla caramel flavor.
Though I couldn’t find the nuts in the first brew, subsequent steeps yielded a sweet, creamy pecan flavor, while most of the chocolate and fruits fell away. I ended up steeping this three times at 208º, starting with 3 minutes and increasing by 30 seconds each time.
Is there such a thing as too complicated? With a list of everything I tasted in this tea, I would have expected to love this brew. But it’s a bit much. I’m not one of those people that can taste the runoff in the rain that fell on the crops that year, so the fact that I can taste so much in one tea is a bit overwhelming. I feel as though the separate flavors never really coalesced into a single entity, but rather continued to express themselves as separate entities.
Perhaps this tea is a story of lovers who never really found their center, never learned to mesh their lifestyles together? I’ve never read Proust.
This tea looks like a leaf party—piney needles, crinkly balls, chocolatey shavings—leaves of all sorts. Let’s not even mention the pecans and chocolatey looking pieces. A Dark Kitchen Sink indeed!
I love smelling the leaves first; it’s like a preview of things to come, and it’s an integral part of the whole tea experience for me. But the smell of this blend has me a little concerned. Chocolate and marshmallow is what comes out first, and that’s kind of exciting. I’ve never had a marshmallowy tea before. The smell is sugary sweet. But there’s an earthy, vitaminy undertone that reminds me of Ovaltine…yuck. I’m pretty sure that smell is coming from the puerh needles, as I remember it from the Rummy Pu I had a few weeks back.
Once brewed, the earthy vitamin smell settled, and all I can smell is a spongy, earthy bread pudding. Good. We’re back on track for a really nice dessert tea.
I feel like this tea presented itself as a series of dessert flavors. What I got first was a strong brown bread flavor—the bitter earthy kind. There’s a figgy, rainsiny kind of flavor that lends sweetness to the entire mix. I also got dark chocolate, but the creaminess of the brew made it taste almost like a chocolate fudge topping. Sometimes I got marshmallows, which switched my mindset from bread pudding to s’mores. . .fun!
As it cools, the vanilla makes itself more well-known, and many of the other flavors drop away. Now I’m drinking a creamy vanilla pudding, but that fig-raisin flavor is still hanging around.
I really loved the experience of this tea, so much so that I think this is my favorite tea by Liquid Proust. It was like being swept away by sweet chocolatey, marshmallow, vanilla, fig dessert. The flavors buzzed over my tongue and left a cool wave in its wake.
I found this blend to be more cohesive than the last, which is ironic because the name implies that this blend was created by throwing all the leftovers in one jar and giving it a name. But the pairing of those chocolatey, toasty teas with the earthy puerh is absolutely heavenly.
I was wrong about this tea being a party; it’s a high school reunion, with all the teas and flavors of past blends I have tried making appearances like 90s movies clichés: the loudmouthed jock that is the puerh, the hyper feminine vanilla that was the head cheerleader stereotype, and the school nerd fig that grew up to be hot and successful.
Last of the LP teas! It’s been such a chocolatey, desserty kind of day for me. Opening up my little glass jar, I didn’t think it was possible to have a tea smell more like 70% dark chocolate. Yes, specifically 70%. I have a bar from Iceland sitting in my cupboard, and these two smell exactly the same. The leaves even looks like chocolate shavings, compounding the imagery. The rice clusters look pretty tasty…so much so that I kind of wish I had some fresh to taste.
Now that I’ve brewed it, the liquid smells like burnt chocolate pudding and yams, which sounds disgusting, but I am a fan of. I love overcooking chocolate pudding and eating the skin off it.
The brew actually tastes pretty simple. It’s sweet, with a strong flavor of sweet potatoes. These sweet potatoes have the skin on, as that earthy flavor is pretty strong. The cocoa comes up next with a sharp buzz on the finish. A sweet, very strong raisin flavor comes back up the palate after swallowing. I was surprised not to get any of the nuts or rice in the flavor.
I’m not sure how I felt about this one. I almost feel as though the modifications to the base tea didn’t make much of a difference. I haven’t had this specific base, but I have had several Yunnan blacks, and even some Laoshan. Each has had the same kind of yammy, sugary, chocolatey flavor all on its own.
I still enjoyed this though. It was comforting and so very raisiny. I might have to sit down with the plain base to really determine how I felt about this blend.