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GreenWander

Today’s tea is extremely unique for several reasons. GreenWander is a single estate, organically grown, Chinese style green tea that is grown, harvested, and processed in Perthshire, Scotland.

Yes, you read that correctly. Scottish tea. And it’s delicious.

With a terroir similar to many tea gardens found in China, a historically agrarian culture, and a love for strong brews, it is no surprise to find a budding tea industry in Scotland. For the last several years there has been a push for Scottish grown teas with several gardens popping up in the Highlands. While some of them still have operations small enough to need to blend their Camellia Sinensis leaves with teas grown in other countries, Windy Hollow makes single estate teas and tisanes.

What makes Windy Hollow stand out from the other tea gardens in Scotland – and, honestly, globally – is how every aspect of the tea has a heavy emphasis on being natural in every sense of the word. Being certified organic with the BiodynamicAssociation UK is only the tip of the iceberg. Monica, owner of Windy Hollow, only uses natural resources found in local environment (such a peat) to tend the plants. As a result, you’ll see a variety of extremely creative techniques used to care for the plants. These techniques add a value that your taste buds will appreciate.

Brew It

To check availability and to get your hands on a cup of this marvelous tea, you’ll want to contact Windy Hollow directly by emailing hello@windyholloworganics.co.uk.

GreenWander’s leaves are beautiful deep forest green twists, almost black, with a few lighter brown, almost tan colored, veins running through them. They smell like a charred root vegetable paired with the sweetness of a honey roasted carrot. The look and feel of the leaves reminds me very much of an oolong.

Green Wander can be steeped multiple times. The first round should be steeped for one minute at 80 degrees Celsius (176 degrees Fahrenheit) with succession steepings for two minutes, also at 80 (176) degrees.

When steeped the leaves unfurl to a brilliant green and release an aroma of green beans with a hint of wilted spinach as they cool.

The liquor is pale yellow, extremely smooth with no astringency, and has a flavor that is like lemongrass with a hint of green beans and snow peas. On the finish it has a soft floral characteristic that I can’t quite identify.

What I find most intriguing about this tea is that it is processed in the Chinese fashion, and yet it has a freshness that is akin to a high quality Japanese Sencha. Additionally, it has a natural sweetness that I’ve found only in white teas.

Contemplative Thoughts

In all honesty, this has been one of the toughest posts to write because this tea conjures up so many thoughts for me. I’ve started this post what felt to be a hundred times because everything I wrote seemed to pale in comparison to the subtle complexities of GreenWander. All the while, two thoughts competed for the place as the “Contemplative Thought”.

The first is of friendship. Though we number in the thousands and are spread across the globe, the speciality tea community helps make the world feel smaller. Since my discovery of WindyHollow a couple of years past, I’ve had the pleasure of watching from “across the pond” as Monica tirelessly worked the land in Perthshire and consider it a grand pleasure to call her friend. She has shared with me her wisdom, love of tea, and passion for natural tea farming.

I’ve always said that tea levels the playing field. It brings people together and helps us see how similar we are and not focus on our differences. As each tea is appreciated for its uniqueness, so too are we able to appreciate others for their unique gifts and talents.

My friendship with Monica shows just that. We are two people from different countries and yet the leaves of the Camellia Sinensis have brought us together and created a unique bond.

The second thought is natural farming. We have a unique relationship with the earth; one that is getting lost as more pavement is cemented to the soil beneath our feet. I will not not argue against the fact that modern civilization has brought about many benefits (indoor plumbing and central heating and air are my personal favorites). But everything comes at a price and I fear that the price that we paid was the connection we have with the earth.

I’ll be the first to admit that the view I hold is unique in that it has been influenced by Scripture and the beliefs of Native American and eastern religions. I believe that I am a small part of the Earth as a whole, not the world itself. And I also believe that since I am able to speak and stand up for those who cannot – regardless of species or kind – I ought to do so. But I also realize that I am just one person and cannot change the world on my own. But what actions I do take have a direct impact on the immediate world around me.

I am often reminded of a JRR Tolkien quote from The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King:

The world has changed.

I see it in the water.

I feel it in the Earth.

I smell it in the air.

Much that once was is lost,

For none now live who remember it.

That sums up how I feel about our planet. So much has changed. I often feel that my connection with the Earth is hindered; that extra effort is needed to reconnect and become grounded. The beauty, tranquility, and balance that we once had is gone and those who had known it are also gone.

But that doesn’t mean we cannot have it again.

In time, when we each practice a natural approach to our gardens, be them hundreds of acres or a small windowsill, our collective actions become something of great value. Because when we each take responsibility for our own actions, little adds up to much.

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Hojicha

One of my favorite teas is one that contains zero tea leaves. No, it’s not an herbal, it’s the Japanese green tea, Hojicha. Hojicha contains only stems. Another creation from the early twentieth century, this concoction did not exist before mechanical harvesting. Hand harvesting of tea leaves allows for only the essential parts of the plant (leaves and buds, or tips) to be plucked, leaving stems and older leaves behind. With mechanical harvesting, however, a greater amount of the plant is taken (tips, leaves, and stems). The difference between the two is like trimming a bush leaf by leaf by hand and trimming the bush with a hedge trimmer. Mechanically harvested leaves must be separated from the stems to make tea, and the stems and stalks are often discarded.

Enter, once again, an ingenious Kyoto merchant who took the twiggy remains of the harvest and roasted them. The resulting brew tea, with its dark roasted flavor, has remained popular since.

Brew It

My favorite Hojicha comes from Harney and Sons. They carry only the best quality teas and since they buy directly from growers, you’re always getting a fair price.

The tea itself looks quite different than most green teas. All you get with Hojicha are little golden twigs of varying lengths, fairly uniform copper color. You’ll likely notice the smell of the twigs first as they give a lovely roasted scent.

Steep your twigs at 175 degrees Fahrenheit for about 3 minutes.

As the dried teas will look very different than a standard green tea, so the liquor color differs. Hojicha is a reddish brown, almost like a caramel color. The aromas are warm toasted flavors. It is not smoky like a camp fire, but is more like woodsy roasted scent.

Light bodied, the liquor is smooth with flavors reminiscent of toasted nuts. Rather than a meatiness that one may except with a nut flavor, you’ll experience a pleasant woodiness.

Because of the robustness of this tea, I often use it to introduce coffee drinkers to the expansive world tea.

Contemplative Thoughts

If necessity is the mother of invention, then energy is the father. Recognizing a problem is one thing. Seeking a solution to it is something entirely different. Creating is costly, whether it be a solution to a problem – like making something from the byproducts of mechanical tea production – or a painting a masterpiece, as it takes energy.

Our energy is our most valuable resource.

Renewable, yes, but it should not be spent unwisely. Often people will spend exorbitant amounts of their precious energy on things that do not offer a valuable level of return. Time-sucks, they are often called, because they take up so much of our time, but they really feed on our energy. Tasks that you dread seem to be the hungriest of all.

We ought, therefore, to be conscious of our energy. To manage it versus trying to manage our time, our calendars, or those tasks and people around us.

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Bancha

Plucked from the same plants which grow Japanese Sencha tea, Bancha is harvested later in the growing season from succession flushes.

This second harvest from these plants usually occurs about twenty days after the Sencha harvest and any subsequent harvests after that are used as a way to help tidy up the tea plants before winter. This helps explain why the word Bancha translates to mean “last tea”.

These succession leaves are processed identically to the spring Sencha: steam fixed, rolled, and dried. So it may be logical to a drinker that a succession leaf from same plant, using the same processing methods, should produce the same flavors, body, and aromas as the first flush leaves. That cannot be further than the truth.

Why? Because of the leaves.

By the time Bancha leaves are harvested, they are older and tougher than the leaves of the first harvest. This toughness is why a side by side comparison of Bancha and Sencha leaves reveals the Bancha leaves to be larger and, on occasion, whole. These older leaves also contain less caffeine than the first flush leaves, as the plant sends an extra boost of caffeine from the roots into the first new leaves of the spring to help the plant explode with new growth. After the initial burst of energy following the time of winter dormancy, the plant sends less caffeine through its branches.

The resulting brew tends to carry more lemon notes, but can have some more harsh undertones as compared with Sencha. These tones help make it a a wonderful base tea for Genmaicha.

Brew It

I procured this batch of Bancha from Harney & Sons. At the time of this post Harney & Sons has available several types of Bancha, each with its own unique characteristics. I am not certain, however, I believe that part of the reason for this large variety is because the Japanese have several grades of Bancha tea that are marketed and sold globally.

The leaves of the Bancha I purchased are a rich dark green spears that are of varying sizes (harken back to the tougher leaves being more difficult to process to be identical sizes, like a Sencha).

Like most green teas, Bancha will taste best when steeped at 175 degrees Fahrenheit for two to three minutes.

Bancha liquor is a light yellow with a small hint of green. Light bodied with almost no astringency, it is almost like a light broth. The broth attitude is emphasized by the aroma of leafy greens. It has a clean vegetable scent to it.

The brew’s flavors are like a steamed broccoli or a green bell pepper. It’s got a lovely clean bite to it that is reminiscent of fresh sautéed green beans. There can be a tiny hint of fishiness, but I haven’t always picked up this flavor on all cups. And if you hold the liquor in your mouth you’ll experience the astringency increasing.

Contemplative Thoughts

There isn’t anything super outstanding about Bancha. It’s just a good cup of green tea. So if you’re not picky and want just a good cup of green tea, definitely give Bancha a try.

But just because it is ordinary doesn’t make it any less magical than any other type of tea. So often in America we are found chasing the extreme moments in life. Whether it is pressure of social media to have the online image of a perfect life or pressures within ourselves to have the best life we possibly can, we often find ourselves feeling like something is missing.

I’m beginning to think that what is missing is the magic in the ordinary. When we focus on what is to come or on trying to make things look perfect, we fail to be able to grasp the peace and serenity of the moment. But slowing down and simply enjoying the moment as it is, savoring the sensations and flavors as they happen, not trying to cling to them, we can experience the extraordinary.

So today, slow down and really savor your cup. Take notice of the way the cup fits in your hand; how the steam rises off the surface of the liquor and dances in the sunlight; the moment the smooth liquid touches your tongue and truly savor every last drop. Give yourself the gift to simply enjoy the magic of the moment.

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Genmaicha

Though often marketed as a pure green tea, Genmaicha is actually a blend made from Bancha green tea and rice. The name “Genmaicha” translates to “brown rice tea”, likely due to the color of the added dried rice. Relatively new by the history of tea, it was created in the 1920’s by a Kyoto merchant who was trying to sell some Bancha tea that was moving slowly through his inventory. Upon invention, its popularity soared among the working class and became known to the masses as a “peasant” drink. Combining tea with the common commodity of rice created a less expensive alternative to pure teas and was a creative way for people to stretch their tea dollars. In more recent years, however, it has gained popularity in all classes.

Genmaicha remains a popular drink among those fasting or individuals who go a long time between meals, as the rice gives a thicker body to the tea and makes the brew very filling.

Brew It

The best Genmaicha I’ve tasted came from Harney and Sons. The short forest green leaves are mixed with little brown dehydrated rice kernels. There are also a few white popped kernels that look like popcorn. The mixture has a bit of a dusty finish to it.

You’ll want to steep your tea for three minutes at 175 degrees Fahrenheit. Listen closely as you pour the hot water onto your tea and during the first few moments of steeping, as the rice makes a soft, pleasant crackle and popping sound as it soaks and expands.

Genmaicha’s liquor is dark green/ yellow and has a hint of cloudiness. The aroma is absolutely delicious. A hint of vegetal, but the resounding scent is reminiscent of toasted popcorn over a fire (side note: popcorn as a snack pairs well with this tea). The flavor, however, is of toasted vegetables.

When Lori and I did the official tasting of this tea we tried it two ways. First, as I described above (just tea and water). The resulting brew was light bodied and had very little astringency.

The second way we tried this tea was (at Lori’s brilliant suggestion) with the addition of a pinch of salt. As odd as it sounds, adding a pinch of salt (per 6 ounces of water, or your personal preference) to your water isn’t all that unusual. In the classic tea book, The Book of Tea, Kakuzo Okakura suggests salting the water during the “first boil”.

Scientifically, adding salt will increase the boiling temperature of the water. I’m sure someone much more knowledgeable than I would be able to step in and explain what that does to our tea leaves.

For our purposes today, I can tell you that adding salt not only will enhance the flavor of the tea, but it also will increase the body of the tea. In the case of Genmaicha, the addition of salt makes the resulting brew more broth like and even more filling. It gives your body the feeling of being nourished more than most cups of tea could sufficiently provide.

Contemplative Thoughts

The addition of salt changes this good cup of tea and turns it into an amazing one. For thousands of years salt has been a necessary ingredient in our world. It has even been said that without salt “life cannot be lived humanely” (Pliny the Elder, Roman author and philosopher). Our bodies need it for survival. Our foods need it for texturizing, flavoring, and preservation. Likewise our souls need it.

The Bible says “You are the salt of the earth”. We are each here for a reason. God created and ordained for a purpose. And even if you doubt God or your purpose on this planet, know that you are more valuable than mere grains of salt. You add flavor, texture, and depth to this world. Your very presence does more than preserve. It sustains. And you are a desperately needed member of your family and your friend group. This world would not be the same without you.

Gratefully yours, my dear tea friend.

~Elaine

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Ichiban Sencha

Ichiban Sencha, or as Lori and I lovingly call it “Icky-ban Sencha”, is a prime example of how easily you can mess up making a cup of tea. It’s refreshing to read even the most experienced tea connoisseurs and experts can incorrectly make a cup of tea the first time they brew a cup. The first time I made this sencha, I’ll admit, it was horrible. So much so, I was dreading this post. The second attempt, I’m pleased to report, was much more pleasant. 

Ichiban Sencha is possibly the most assertive of all senchas. Made from the first flush of new growth in the spring, the word Ichiban means “the first”. Unlike the single estate Matsuda’s Sencha, this is a blend of teas grown in the Kakegawa area of Shizuoka, Japan.

Made in a more modern (post World War II) style, this tea is deep steamed using  fukumushi method, where the tea is steamed an additional 30 seconds longer than the traditional method. Those extra few seconds further breaks down the leaves making a stronger brew. Today most senchas are produced using this method.

Brew It

Harney & Sons once again came to the rescue on this tea. Since there are no shops locally to source high quality teas, I do my tea shopping online, from a list quality vendors that I have grown to love. And Harney & Sons always has one of the best selections on pure teas available in the States. 

The leaves of Ichiban Sencha are a mix of rich green needles and more fine, almost powdery, bits. 

As you can see from my first attempt at the brew, the liquor is a darker green, and cloudy from the powdery leaves (this should have been my first clue that I made the cup a wee bit too strong). My second attempt matched closer to the expected intense green color (albeit still a bit on the cloudy side). 

On both attempts, the aromas of the steeped leaves is a unique mix of woodsy citrus with a vegetal undertone. 

Medium bodied on both attempts, but the flavors couldn’t be more different. The initial attempt was so astringent that Lori nor I could adequately pick out any flavors. It was like eating a lemon. Or more accurately, like a punch in the face. We did discover that as you held the liquor in your mouth, the flavors would evolve. The brew became less astringent and a warm spice flavor, almost a sweet-cinnamon or nutmeg-like, would pair with the citrus vegetable on the finish. 

My second attempt proved much more pleasant (no punch in the face!). I made the tea a little bit lighter. This made the tea slightly more lighter bodied, but also took out the worst of the astringency. As a result I was able to pick up more on the lemon and spinach / turnip green flavors. As on the first attempt, the longer that I held the liquor in my mouth, the more the flavors evolved, becoming less astringent still, letting the vegetal flavors really shine. The warm spice flavors were not as prevalent, but I definitely suggest trying yourself to see what flavors your tongue can taste. 

Contemplative Thoughts

Perfectionistic to a fault, I was certain when I first made Ichiban Sencha that I made it correctly. After all, I followed the instructions, so how could this have  gone wrong? But awry it went. 

I spent weeks brooding over this post. Dreading knowing what was down the pike. I procrastinated knowing that I would need to make another cup of this wretched brew to confirm what I had already tasted and recorded in my notes to adequately record my thoughts for you.  

Hindsight is always 20/20. And I now see that was part of the reason for delaying my writing. I found other things on which to spend my time. Making excuses for why something else was more important. But in the end, I was merely delaying the inevitable. 

Sometimes life throws you curveballs. Things happen that you don’t want, that you can’t prevent. And quite frankly, sometimes there’s no way to contend against them. Pummeled, we chose not to do what we can to push through, to press forward. We just turtle up, back against the ropes, hoping it will stop soon. 

But it won’t. 

And then we face the decision: Do I chose to stay cowering in the corner? Or do I pull myself up to my full height and fight back with everything within me?

Today, I chose to fight. But first, tea.

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Matsuda’s Sencha

Single estate teas are growing in popularity, but finding them can still be a challenge. Many small estates will pluck their tea leaves by hand, but it is often more economical for them to either outsource the production of the leaves to another party or to join with several other small tea estates at a central facility for processing.

So finding a tea that is plucked and processed by a single estate, like Matsuda’s Sencha, is a gem.

Yoshihiro Matsuda, his wife, and his Mom create this first flush tea in Japan’s Uji region from start to finish. Unlike many neighboring farms which cover the tea plants during the spring growing season to increase chlorophyll and amino acid production of the plant to make the resulting brew sweeter, Matsuda choses more traditional ways of cultivating a good crop: lots of sunshine and good soil. And the resulting Sencha is proof of the effort.

Brew It

This amazing tea is a Harney & Sons exclusive. The leaves are like a pile of lovely dark green, silky soft needles.

Like any Sencha, you will want to steep it for about two minutes at 175 degrees Fahrenheit.

The aromas of the leaves change drastically. When dried they smell exactly like sweet okra. However when steeped, they take on a spinach scent mixed with a meaty vegetable flavor akin to collard or turnip greens.

The pale yellow-green liquor has a light to medium body. The flavors, similar to the aromas, are vegetal leaning toward a boiled turnip green flavor with a hint of spinach. The flavors are brief on the tongue and fade quickly, but they leave you wishing to take another sip. You may pick up on a tiny hint of bitter from the light astringency.

Contemplative Thoughts

I adore the idea of a single estate tea. And I love how the Matsuda family constructs this tea from start to finish. After my first attempt at an apothecary garden in my backyard last summer, I can only imagine the volume of pride that they have in their tea and the dedication it takes to remember the end result as they send their tea to be steeped into mugs around the world. Sharing your prize is hard. Sharing your prize with the world, I can only imagine, is infinitely more difficult.

Too often I feel the need to draw within myself, close the door, and keep to myself the gifts which have such value in my heart. In these moments I have to remind myself of the purpose of these gifts: to bless others. What good is the peppermint on my shelf if I don’t share it with a friend with a feverish child? Or the lemon balm tisane blend I can whip up in a moment for a friend who is feeling down? None of it does any good hoarded on my shelf.

And so I open my heart, herb jars, and the Pandora’s box known as my tea cabinet to others. May they be blessed by the work of my hands and the endeavors of my mind.

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Gunpowder

Gunpowder tea is one of my favorite green teas. Partially for the name (everyone sounds macho when they say they drink gunpowder for breakfast!) and partially for the grounding flavors.

Grown predominately in the Zhejiang province in China, this tea dates back to the Tang Dynasty. It is called gunpowder as the leaves are tightly rolled into tiny green-grey pearls that are vaguely reminiscent of gunpowder pellets (imagination is needed on this one). The tight rolling made this tea less susceptible to damage and allowed the pellets to retain more of the flavors and aroma than other green teas. As a result, this was one of the few green teas that was stable enough to find its way outside of China in the days before faster transport and sealed packaging.

Another little fact about this tea is, even to this today, it is created as an export tea and very little is drank in China. Instead, the majority of it makes its way overseas and is the base for Moroccan Mint tea.

Brew It

Since this tea is made from summer flushes (not the first, prized growth after the winter season) and many growers process this type, not all Gunpowder teas are made the same and quality widely varies. You’ll know you’ve found a lower quality tea if the liquor is bright yellow and has acrid, smoky flavors. By contrast, higher quality teas will have a charred vegetal flavor. Knowing how quality varies so widely, for this tasting I procured this tea from Harney and Sons to ensure that I would receive a good quality tea.

The leaves are tiny pellets, tightly rolled, but not perfectly round. They are a greenish-greyish color.

The Gunpowder’s liquor is a light caramel colored, almost an orange, with a hint of green. The wet leaves smell of roasted vegetables; like grilled brussel sprouts or artichoke. By contrast, the dry leaves smell sweeter and give your nose the illusion that the resulting brew will be a bit sweeter.

Medium bodied, the liquor has a mild astringency that builds a bit as you hold it in your mouth and as you drink it. The astringency is quite complementary to the flavor hint of vegetables roasted over an open fire.

Contemplative Thoughts

Like China, we often use our talents to create things for others. It could be daily tasks at your job, cooking a meal for a sick neighbor, tending to the needs of your family (like laundry, cleaning, or yard work). But how often do you take those same talents and enjoy them?

The tasks you complete may not be the most joyful, but when you slow your pace you can open an avenue for gratefulness. If nothing else, we can take a moment to enjoy how our bodies are able to do so many tasks, from strong physical labor to gently rocking babies to sleep. We can appreciate our minds and the speed from which they can swiftly move from one complex thought to the next. Our emotional well-being should never be underestimated; having the empathy to reach out to a friend in need, near or far, has the ability to bridge gaps that no man could separate.

So as you sit and sip a cuppa gunpowder, remember this: You are strong. You are gentle. You are wise. And right now, you are enough.

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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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Taiping HouKui

Today’s tea is especially fun.

Taiping HouKui, also called “Taiping Best Monkey Tea”, is considered one of the top 10 teas in China and is known for it’s (rather comically) large strips.

Plucked from the Shi Da Cha cultivar which is bred for its long, slender leaves, the best production comes from the town of Taiping in Anhui Province. The leaves are fixed green and then laid between layers of canvas, weighted down to flatten the leaves into thin strips, and oven-baked.

More about these special leaves in a moment. First, a little bit of intrigue to whet your mind:

The name “Houkui” actually means “Monkey King”.  Legend has it that this cultivar of Camellia Sinensis was created when the Monkey King fell ill and died after losing his son. The day after his death, a gardener found the King’s body and buried him. A year later, in appreciation for the burial, tea plants had grown where the King was laid to rest. The gardener then cared for the tea plants and began to harvest the leaves and create this unique tea.

Brew It

This tea can be a bit of a challenge to find and falsification is rampant, so be sure to purchase your Taiping HouKui from a reputable vendor that is known for quality teas. You’ll know you purchased a fake if the leaves look symmetrical.

As usual, I found Harney & Sons had this tea ready to procure.

Before steeping your tea, take a few moments to examine the leaves. Appreciate the delicate hint of the cross-hatch print embossed on the leaves from the canvas press, the deep green with white stripes and the occasional hint of red. With leaves ranging up to 3 inches long, it feels like you’re holding a piece of green bacon in your hand (will you have it in a box with a fox?).

When you’re ready to brew, it will feel like you’re about to cook some spaghetti with how the leaves stick up out of your cup. Have no fear! Once you pour your 175 degree water over the top, the leaves quickly bend and tuck nicely inside your vessel. Steep your green bacon tea for 2-3 min.

Some people suggest steeping the tea in a tall cylindrical glass to watch the  leaves sway. This is often called the “Phoenix dances”.

Lori and I had such a kick with this tasting that we had to take a few extra pics for giggles. Enjoy!

Look at this tea leaf, y’all! This thing is ridiculous!! These leaves are almost as long as my hand!! (Also, please pardon me with no makeup; totally impromptu pics.)

Sticking up out of the gaiwan:

Mmmmm… Green bacon anyone???

The liquor should be a light pale green with aromas of steamed green beans and wet hay. The scent will fade quickly as the leaves cool, so you’ll want to be sure to get your sniffs in quickly.

The light to medium bodied liquor doesn’t have as much flavor as the aromas let on, but you’ll hopefully pick up a light Lima bean / butter bean (for all you southern folk) flavor. It is mildly bitter, but surprisingly mellow and well rounded. The finish is still slightly astringent with no real flavor of it’s own.

Contemplative Thoughts

No matter how many other thoughts that I try to have while sipping this tea, my thoughts seem to always swirl back to Dr. Seuss. It must be the green bacon like strips which immediately makes me think of his wonderful children’s book, Green Eggs and Ham. But more than that single book are the wonderful words of encouragement that we get from the pages of Dr. Seuss’ whimsical writings.

As an INTJ on the Myers-Briggs, many of these quotes resonate with my mind, but two in particular sum up Contemplative Thoughts:

“Think and wonder, wonder and think.”

“Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope.”

May you always wonder, think, and dare to look at life through the wrong end of the telescope.

Sláinte!

 

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Jin Shan

Jin Shan, also referred to as Jin Mountain, is a tea grown in one of China’s ancient tea growing regions in the Anhui province. The area where this tea is grown is home to an equally ancient Buddhist monastery. Since it was Chinese monks from this region who introduced Japanese monks to tea a few thousand years ago, it is highly plausible that this style of tea is what was shared.

Brew It

Procured from Harney & Sons, the beautiful dark green leaves are small and stiff with a touch of silver on the ends; the leaves have a thin downy coat that gives them a frosted look. Most of the leaves are twisted into small bits, but as you can see from the picture below, there are a select few that seem to have unraveled.

You will want to steep this tea at about 175 degrees for two to three minuets. The resulting liquor will be a very pale yellow.

The steeped leaves have the scent of kale, spinach, and steamed green beans. My tasting partner, Lori, was able to pick up on a faint citrus smells of orange blossoms and grapefruit. I on the other hand, didn’t smell anything but spinach and green beans.

Light in body, the liquor has a slight astringency to it, with flavors of wet, leafy vegetables and green beans.

Contemplative Thoughts

The flavors of this tea remind me of warm, late spring days when a garden has it’s first fruits ready for harvest. It is a reminder to take time to pause, be thankful, and enjoy the fruits of your labor.  Too often I go from one task to the next, one goal to the next. Rarely do I pause to appreciate the challenges I have just overcome, to celebrate what was just accomplished.

This is an integral part of life that is missing in our modern American culture. It keeps us from a moment of peace and joy, an opportunity to truly appreciate. It also keeps us from the opportunity to completely analyze life. As we quickly jump to the next goal we deny ourselves the chance to re-evaluate our next goal. Is it still appropriate? Are the steps that we thought we should take still the best steps? Has something better come along?

Often we must set aside one good thing for a better thing. Without a moment to pause, appreciate, and review, we may find that we are sacrificing what is best as we rush to what is merely good.