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Dragon Pearl Jasmine

Grown in the Fujian province of China, Dragon Pearl Jasmine is a very special tea. For centuries, the Chinese have been using jasmine to enhance some of their teas. But, I warn you, not all jasmine teas are the same. Many that you’ll find in Chinese restaurants or on the tea isle in your local grocery store are made spraying the tea leaves with a jasmine flavored chemical. These teas may give you the flavor of jasmine, but the quality of the tea will likely be lacking.

One of the things I love about the tea that I tasted for this post is that there is no jasmine flowers in any of the pearls. Nor has the tea been sprayed with any flavorings.  Instead, these pears are hand-rolled by a group of women and then dried on racks. Every day fresh jasmine flowers are brought in and dried on racks in between the racks of tea leaving the small room heavily perfumed with the smell of the jasmine flowers, and thus, infusing the tea with the floral scent.

Brew It

As with many of the teas in my collection, Harney and Sons comes through with finding great quality teas at reasonable prices; Dragon Pearl Jasmine is no different.

The tightly hand-rolled dark green pearls are streaked with white. Once brewed, the pearls unfurl to be the precious green leaves and buds of the Da Bai cultivar, proving the quality of the this tippy tea.

The liquor is a golden color, like a pale copper with a strong floral jasmine and honey aroma. As the leaves cool you may also pick up the a warm spice flavor that Lori and I could only describe as “the scent of a good looking man”. Lori’s nose also picked out a light grassy scent. We both agreed the aroma was a perfect balance of manly and floral scents.

The flavor of the tea is nearly identical to the aroma: strong of jasmine, it is a fresh floral flavor with a hint of honey. The liquor is surprisingly strong bodied (must be the manliness) and has very little astringency or bitterness.

Contemplative Thoughts

Sweet and floral, but surprisingly full bodied and filling, this tea makes me think of the complex balance of a woman. Women in general are ridiculously resilient creatures. They can stand strong on their own when others fail to do so; they are fierce in battle and delicate and soft at the same time. Wrong her and she will cut you down; treat her with kindness and you’ll have won a friend for life. It is said that a woman is like tea: you never know how strong she is until she is put in hot water. Likewise, women are also like whisky in a teacup. Sweet and proper on the outside, but on the inside they are full of passion and fire.

Blaze on.

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Bi Lo Chun

Bi Lo Chun is another ancient tea. This one is grown in China’s Jiangsu province and is one of the northern most grown teas. Once enjoyed by emperors, and today more well known than other Chinese green varieties, it is still harvested only once or twice a year in small quantities.

Brew It

As with many other rare teas, Harney & Sons has come to the rescue.  The leaves are small, squiggly pieces, that have been tightly spiraled. Coated in a heavy layer of fuzzy down, the dried leaves have almost a blue-grey hue. Once steeped, however, the leaves turn this beautiful sandy-green and unroll into the most precious tiny leaf sets, no more than an inch long. I highly encourage you to pick up one and hold it on the tip of your finger for examination and appreciation of the talent needed to make this tea.

Like most green teas, you’ll wish to steep this tea for two to three minuets at 175 degrees.

The resulting liquor is a golden green that meets a dark pale yellow, with an almost orange tint.

For the aroma of the wet, steeped leaves, I first need to remind you that I am a southern woman. I was born in the Atlanta area and have lived here my entire life. There are some things that do not exist anywhere else on this planet; they are just southern.

When my tasting partner Lori, another born and bred southern woman, and I smelled these leaves we agreed that there was an aroma of cooked butter beans and black eyed peas (two very southern foods). Then as the leaves began to cool a bit, we hit on the primary scent; one that made both of our mouths water (and we may or may not have accused the other of hogging the shared gaiwan). The aroma, you ask? Hot. Boiled. Peanuts.

If you have not experienced a hot boiled peanut, bless your heart, you’ve missed out on life. As incomprehensible as it is for me to believe, hot boiled peanuts are not for everyone. Like my New York born husband.  Try as he might (and he only tried once, bless him), my man cannot appreciate (or stomach) this southern delicacy. Meanwhile, I think about these peanuts at least once a week.

Now, if you have tried the boiled peanut and you didn’t care for it, don’t fret none, as we say in the south. This thin bodied, lightly astringent liquor tastes nothing like a hot boiled peanut (much to mine and Lori’s disappointment). Nor does it taste like hot boiled peanut juice (also to our disappointment).

I found the flavor to be similar to that of asparagus. Lori thought it needed salt and was bitter on the finish. Though initially one may find adding salt to one’s tea to be an odd request, it really isn’t all that odd. In Okakura Kakuzō’s famous writing, The Book of Tea, he explores the origins of the Japanese tea ceremony and the preparation of the tea, which included salting the water. Remembering this gem of knowledge, I fetched Lori a wee bit of salt. She found the addition of salt made the brew a bit better for her palate.

Contemplative Thoughts

Typically the aromas of steeped leaves give you a hint of what to expect when you take your first sip. Granted, they may not be identical flavors, but they at least get you in the ballpark. Never before have I tried a tea where the aroma was so vastly different than the flavor. My first cup really threw me for a loop; so much so I found it difficult to seek out other flavors. 

Sometimes in life that happens. We plan and prepare and make many efforts in a particular direction all the while expecting a certain result. And if we don’t get the outcome we were anticipating, we find ourselves disappointed. Many of us, myself included, can spend valuable time that we will never recover, steeping ourselves in the disappointment. When we get stuck in this rut of negativity and depression, not giving ourselves the gift of lifting our head and hearts above the muck and mire, we steal away our chance of getting to taste other flavors of life. Flavors that, though not expected or anticipated at this time of life, can be tasty in their own way.

Anticipating the unexpected helped me to enjoy and appreciate my second cup of Bi Lo Chun all the more.

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Chinese Silver Needle

Chinese Silver Needle, also known as Yin Zhen, is an exquisite white tea grown in China’s Fujian province. Considered to be the most prized white tea on the market (and priced accordingly), this tea is produced from the Camellia Sinensis Da Bai (“big white”) cultivar, which is known for it’s large buds. The first flush leaf buds are picked by hand in the morning after the dew has evaporated off the leaves and laid out to dry before being baked at a low temperature.

Brew It

A good quality selection, such as the Harney & Sons I am tasting and writing about today, will consist of slender silver colored leaf buds, about an inch long, that are covered with tiny fuzzy hairs.

Being a white tea, you’ll want to steep the leaves for about 3 minutes at 170 – 175 degrees Fahrenheit.

The resulting liquor is a pale yellow / green with a rose colored hint. The aroma of the damp buds is a light floral with a sweet, earthy tone. Some have described the sweetness as a floral jasmine and the earth tones as a sweet hay. Light in body, the Yin Zhen’s taste has floral hint with a sugary flavor builds on the finish. If you hold the brew in your mouth for a few moments with a little swish a subtle vegetal flavor will build.

Contemplative Thoughts

I do enjoy a good white tea for the natural sweetness it brings to my tongue. The Yin Zhen is by far is my favorite among pure white teas for the subtle nuances that it holds. You’ll want to try it in a quiet place with a clean palate to focus on the hints that linger on your tongue. Otherwise you may only taste “warm water”, as a friend of mine once said as she tried a white tea after drinking a stout black.

The balance of the sugar with the earthy undertone – a lightness, yet grounded – brings to mind the imagery of cairns; to being firmly rooted and stable, yet remaining delicate and sensitive in the same moment; peace and stability in amongst a chaotic world. To me it is a reminder to just breathe.

#zenme