Leafhopper Send Message

I picked up a sample of this tea in my last Camellia Sinensis order. This company has a few unusual black teas that I’ve been interested in trying, and this hongcha from Guizhou is one of them. I steeped 6 g of leaf in 120 ml of 195F water for 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds, plus some long, uncounted steeps.

The glossy, rolled dry leaves have aromas of honey, malt, bread, and florals. The first steep has notes of buckwheat honey, malt, bread, florals, faint tannins, zucchini, and unripe red berries. Honey, sour/unripe berries, tannins, and malt are even more prominent in the next steep. The tannins are fuzzy in the mouth and I get something reminiscent of rye bread. The next couple steeps have notes of bread, malt, honey, and florals, with faint berry and plummy fruitiness and some astringency. Steeps five and six are similarly full of honey, rye bread, and tannins, with some floral hints and something vegetal that I’ve called zucchini. By steep seven, the tea loses its fruitiness and focuses on honey, lots of malt, rye bread, tannins, and minerals. The end of the session has notes of malt, honey, minerals, and earth.

This is a nice breakfast-type tea that is a bit heavy on the tannins for me. I wish I could detect a little more fruit and that the malt was less overbearing. This is not a bad tea, just not the one for me.

I typically don’t like to write more than one review of a tea unless it’s changed substantially from harvest to harvest. However, this Mi Lan Xiang hongcha is so good that I’m breaking this rule. I called it the best black tea I drank in 2017, and while I might not go that far now, it’s still among the most balanced, comforting, tasty black teas in my collection. I get honey, caramel, pastries, grapefruit, florals, and a touch of malt, along with red berries and cocoa in some steeps. There’s a little astringency to give it body, but not enough to be bitter or detract from the smoothness. I can mindlessly chug this tea while working, which is a mistake since there are so many flavours to eke out.

Along with the Wild Lapsang Souchong from Wuyi Origin, this is one of my desert island teas. Both of these teas are fruity, smooth, and easy drinking while remaining complex enough to repay closer study. It’s too bad it’s $28 for 50 g, but I just might buy more anyway.

I’m finally nearing the end of my huge envelope of samples from Nio. It’s been fun trying these different Japanese green teas, which is something I wouldn’t have done otherwise. Genmaicha is a nice toasty tea for this cold, blustery weather, and it will be interesting to see if the gyokuro will make a noticeable difference in the flavour. I followed the vendor’s instructions and steeped 5 g of leaf in 150 ml of 203F water for 30, 60, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds.

The dry aroma is of toasted rice, nuts, spinach, and umami. The first steep has notes of slightly charred toasted rice, spinach, grass, and umami. I can see why people compare genmaicha to popcorn! The second, one-minute steep produces a somewhat bitter infusion featuring roast, toasted rice, kale, spinach, grass, and umami. The third steep is similar, though the fourth mellows out into toasted rice, nuts, butter, and grass. The final two steeps are full of toasted rice, nuts, butter, and roast, with faint grass and spinach. All six steeps are pleasantly smooth and starchy, possibly from the rice.

As expected, this is a comforting winter tea. I’m not sure the gyokuro produced a noticeably different taste than sencha, though I’d have to do a side-by-side comparison to be sure.

Until March 31, you can get up to 55% off on matcha. In addition, use the code LEAFHOPPER15 to get 15% off your order. (I get a small commission from this code.)

This Dancong from 2023 was about $1 per gram, though it was slightly cheaper for me since I bought it during a Black Friday sale. Dong Fang Hong seems to be a pricier Dancong type for some reason, possibly due to scarcity. I steeped 6 g of leaf in 120 ml of 195F water for 7, 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds, plus some long, uncounted steeps.

The dry aroma is of charcoal, roast, oakwood, incense, honey, and citrus. The first steep has notes of oakwood, charcoal, roasted nuts, butter, and minerals. The tea is fairly drying. The next steep adds honey, orange peel, and incense, and the freshly cut wood smell is very noticeable. I get a kiwi and honeydew aftertaste that lasts for minutes. Steeps three and four add almond, honeydew, minerals, orchids, and other unidentifiable florals. In the next four steeps, the roasted almond, oakwood, honey, and minerals take over, with slight honeydew and orange in the aftertaste. The tea is developing a silky texture and there’s no real bitterness, just the roast and minerality. The next few steeps are very similar. The only thing of note is the lush honeydew aftertaste, which lasts for minutes after I drink the tea. The final steeps emphasize roasted almonds, minerals, tannins, wood, charcoal, and faint honeydew in the aftertaste.

This Dancong was a lot more enjoyable than I expected, even though the roast is more prominent than in the Baiye. The honeydew aftertaste is lovely, and the tea never gets too bitter. I even like the pronounced notes of freshly cut oak that I get near the beginning of the session. It’s amazing how much this tea has developed after just over a year of aging.

I bought several Dancongs from Wuyi Origin in 2023 and have been trying them sporadically ever since, hoping the roast would fade and the underlying flavours would emerge. Based on the dry aroma, I’m not sure that waiting has been successful for this Dancong or for most of the others. I steeped 6 g of leaf in 120 ml of 195F water for 7, 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, 120, 180, and 240 seconds, plus some long, uncounted steeps.

The dry aroma is of charcoal, roast, hay, wood, orange, peach, and flowers. The first steep has notes of charcoal, roast, hay, wood, cream, orange, and peach. The peach is actually a little more noticeable than it was last time, including in the aftertaste, though the roast predominates. The next steep adds honey, orchid, minerals, and a bit more peach. With steeps three to six, I get more charcoal and roast, although there’s still a peachy aftertaste. By steep seven, I taste more florals and citrus, with mineral, roast, and wood. Subsequent steeps are quite roasty and tannic but with notes of hay, wood, peach, orange, orchid, violet, and grass. The final steeps fade into hay, roast, wood, minerals, tannins, and vague peach.

I may have spoken too soon when I said the roast on this tea wouldn’t fade. I definitely taste more peach and orange than the last time I tried it, though the roast is still prominent. I think this is a solid, high-quality Dancong that’s still too roasted for my liking.

This tea is from summer 2023. It’s the first hongcha I’ve seen from Da Yu Ling, so of course, I jumped at the chance to try it. I steeped 6 g of leaf in 120 ml of 195F water for 25, 20, 25, 30, 30, 30, 45, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds, plus some long, uncounted steeps.

The dry aroma is of brown sugar, honey, smoke, plum, and spices. The first steep has notes of brown sugar, honey, grain, wood, and vague plumminess. It kind of reminds me of a Bai Hao without the muscatel. I get something like oakwood and smoke in steep two, along with the honey, grain, spice, and brown sugar. Steeps three and four are very sweet, with lots of honey and brown sugar with woody undertones. I still get some fruitiness, though it’s hard to identify specific fruits. The next few steeps are very similar, with honey, brown sugar, nectar, pine, malt, and wood. The final steeps fade elegantly into fainter brown sugar, honey, and wood, with none of the bitterness or tannins typical of the last few steeps of a black tea.

This tea is incredibly sweet and well balanced without having many identifiable flavours. The steeps didn’t change too much throughout the session, and it was a pleasure to drink for at least sixteen infusions. I tend to enjoy fruitier hongcha, but this is a personal preference and the tea is very nice. Is it as amazing as one would expect from Da Yu Ling? I found it very similar to the Lishan Black, so I would have to say no.

I’ve almost given up on finding good roasted oolongs, but decided to try this one anyway since Ethan said that like me, he doesn’t enjoy prominent roast or charcoal in his tea. I steeped 6 g of leaf in 120 ml of 195F water for 25, 20, 25, 30, 30, 30, 45, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds, plus some long, uncounted steeps.

The dry aroma is of roasted nuts, butter, caramel, orchids, and other florals. The first steep has notes of grain, honey, roasted nuts, minerals, orchids, and soft florals. Steep two is quite floral, with orchid, honeysuckle, and spring flowers. The tea is rounded out with notes of grain, roasted nuts, butter, grass, and faint roast. The next couple steeps double down on the roasted nuts (walnuts and chestnuts, maybe?) and have more notes of caramel, grain, butter, and roast along with the florals. It’s worth noting that this tea hasn’t become overly roasty or sour. In subsequent steeps, the tea finally starts getting some sourness from the roast, though it’s nicely balanced with nutty, grassy, buttery, and floral flavours and some minerality. The final steeps are more noticeably roasted, but still hang on to the floral, nutty, and caramel notes that make this tea enjoyable.

This oolong is a pleasant surprise. While it’s definitely a roasted tea, the roast is nicely balanced with the floral qualities of the Alishan oolong in a way that complements it rather than overwhelming it. While I wouldn’t say it’s as magical as the sample of Dong Ding Derk gave me from Song, it’s a lot more affordable. It only goes to show there are good roasted teas out there if you are lucky enough to find them.

According to Ethan’s description, this spring 2024 Si Ji Chun is from a higher elevation than the regular Nantou variety. At $20 for 50 g, it’s a bit more than one would expect to pay for a Four Seasons oolong, but since my curiosity regarding gaoshan is boundless, it made its way into my order. I steeped 6 g of leaf in 120 ml of 195F water for 25, 20, 25, 30, 30, 30, 45, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds, plus some long, uncounted steeps.

The dry aroma is of cookies, butter, grass, and honeysuckle. The first steep has notes of cookie, butter, cream, walnut, grass, honeysuckle, freesia, and orchid. This tea is quite soft, with none of the high notes I associate with Qing Xin. The next steep is round, buttery, nutty, and floral, with more flowery notes than the first steep. Steeps three and four have a nice lemony quality, along with more intense freesia, honeysuckle, and orchids and a little grass. Subsequent steeps are still nutty and floral, but with more grass and minerals. The final steeps are predictably grassy, vegetal, mineral, and a bit floral.

This tea didn’t wow me like some of Ethan’s other offerings, but the first few steeps were nice. I’m not sure the higher price was fully justified. I guess you can’t win them all!

I’ve had maybe three Dancongs from Camellia Sinensis and have liked only one (the 2010 Mi Lan Xiang). Nonetheless, I had to order 25 g of this both because of the name and because it’s made by the same producer as their Feng Huang Hong Cha, another tea I love. This note is for the 2023 harvest. I steeped 6 g of leaf in 120 ml of 195F water for 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds, plus some long, uncounted steeps.

The dry aroma is of peach, lychee, honey, orchid, grain, and roast. The first steep really delivers on the soft, sweet peach I was hoping for. It also has notes of lychee, apricot, honey, orchid, butter, grain, roast, and tannins, which kind of make the peach feel fuzzy. There’s a peachy aftertaste that reminds me of peach pits. The next steep has a little upfront roast but is mostly peach, orchid, other florals, honey, and lychee. Grain and roast become more prominent in steeps three and four, though the peach is holding strong and the florals are still evident. The aftertaste shifts to grilled peaches and honey. In the next four steeps, I get more charcoal, wood, cream, and florals, although the peach is going strong. The final steeps emphasize charcoal, roast, minerals, wood, tannins, and faint hints of peach.

This may not be the world’s most complex
Dancong, but the sweet, persistent peach makes me happy. It isn’t as heavily roasted as some other Dancongs, although this could be due to age. I’d highly recommend this tea for any peach lovers out there.

Daylon generously sent me an entire vacuum-sealed ounce of this 2023 Long Feng Xia, which has been sitting in a box for just under a year. However, when I drink gaoshan samples, I drink them fast, so this tea was gone in just under a week. I steeped 6 g of leaf in 120 ml of 195F water for 25, 20, 25, 30, 30, 30, 45, 60, 90, 120, 180, and 240 seconds, plus some long, uncounted steeps.

The dry aroma is of orchid, lilac, sweet pea, and mild spices. The first steep has notes of orchid, lilac, sweet pea, cream, milk, sweet corn, grass, cookies, and hints of spice. Along with the cream and delicate florals, the second steep is a bit greener, though not bitter. The next couple steeps have headier orchid and honeysuckle notes, with some greenness in the background. With steeps five and six, the tea acquires notes of pine, spinach, and grass, though there’s still some sweetness and florality. The last few steeps are quite sappy and vegetal, with pine, spinach, grass, faint florals, and some sweetness.

Even though I usually don’t go for more vegetal oolongs, this one is highly drinkable and complex. The spicy florality in the first few steeps is lovely, and the sappy, piney note is reminiscent of other Shan Lin Xi oolongs. Thanks, Daylon, for sending me this tea!