The Tea Gallery

2011-03-07T13:34:00.000-08:00

While visiting Kingston's up and coming tearoom, I found he had a tree-stump Yixing teapot that resembled mine. I couldn't pass up this learning experience so I brought my teapot over on my next visit and let Kingston compare the two (above picture: mine is on the right). Pots like this can be made from a mold but what sets one from the other is the artist's eye for sharpening and adding details to the final product.

Winnie also has a tree-stump teapot. We picked up ours together in Hong Kong. There are elements to both our teapots that we find in Kingston's version. I asked Kingston for his first impressions. He said mine was nicer because of the greater amount of detail and the way those details were executed. While the color of the clay was the same, Kingston noticed a subtle, textural difference. It's one I have had trouble trying to catch on camera. The contrast isn't great enough but Kingston felt the difference with his hands. My clay was superior so the teapot felt smoother and more consistent throughout.

Kingston's teapot is on the left and you can see the handle while resembling a a young branch is nice but it's not as interesting as the aged and cracked wood effect of my teapot's handle. This detail adds a greater value for collectors who like this style. So long as it's not overwrought, intricate flourishes are expected with this kind of organic look.

Winnie's teapot is on the foreground and you can see just how clean and sharp its edges are compared to the softer contours of the Kingston pot. No major differences between all three pots but the sum of those little things add up to significant dollars.

None of the teapots shown have been used but one of the joys of owning this style of pot is brewing with it and allowing a natural patina to develop. Because of all the tree knots and floral details, the changes in color saturation will be more pronounced between the smooth and rough areas. The tea staining adds another layer to the intricate look.

This was my first time using the tree-stump pot. Because it's quite small and holds only 60cc, I chose a tightly rolled tikwanyin. I wanted to enhance the richness of the red clay so I used our "Classic Roast" Iron Bodhisattva. It's deep, burgundy hue is a natural complement to the clay.
It's finally time to "feed" the teapot.

One cup for me, and one for the teapot.

The submerged bottom of the teapot showed me a preview of the rich color I can eventually attain the more I use it. All those carefully carved out nooks and crevices will darken and add dimension to the woody details. This is one teapot that does require a little extra attention for it's maintenance. I want to make sure the tea and water stains accentuate and highlight the organic shape of this tea and not leave marks on the smooth parts of the surface. Once I was done using the teapot, emptied the leaves and given it a quick rinse, I gently buffed the surface dry with a thick tea towel. Then I used a smaller, thinner cloth and rubbed away the stains that left outlines around the carved flowers and notches. You can also use a clean, medium-bristled paintbrush to get beneath the handle and other small niches.

While it takes time for the patina to develop, I feel an impatience to see those delicate flowers and carefully etched knots pop with contrast.

Golden Buddha Hand: Trial in the Tearoom

2011-02-08T08:21:00.000-08:00

2010 Fall Harvest vs. 2010 Spring Harvest

We don't always have the leisure to spend and afternoon with tea in this society. Even working at a tearoom, means a lot of administrative work and taking care of your clients. It's a shame since some teas undergo many changes during multiple infusions and resting periods. At the tearoom, we often refer to the "life" of the tea, the journey it takes from the first delicate infusions to the eventual peak in flavor and body. Then there's the slow, softening of flavors as it completes it's arc and reaches the end.

The past few months, Toki and I have been drinking and evaluating the 2010 Fall harvest of an oolong, called Golden Buddha Hand. Soon to be an exclusive offering from The Mandarin's Tearoom. I also got to compare the tea to it's 2010 Spring harvest version. This was the tea producers initial offering and some changes were made to improve the later batch. As you can see in the picture above, the two harvests are very similar in appearance except the Spring harvest on the right, is slightly darker due to roast.

Here were the starting parameters:

I measured 7 grams each of the dry leaf and used porcelain gaiwans at 90cc, pre-heated with boiling water. Examined the dry leaf aromas: due to the cool and dry conditions of the tearoom (winter in NYC, ugh), both teas had a subdued fragrance. 2010 Fall was surprisingly more potent than it's darker sibling from Spring. Sweeter with light citrus flowers that seemed less oppressed than the soft, nutty notes of the roasted version.
I used boiling water for the flash rinse, decanted and enjoyed the awakening fragrance of the wet leaves. Now I get fresh cream and bergamot oil from the greener 2010 Fall. Florals were evident in the roasted 2010 Spring, layered with toasted grain.
First steep lasted less then 10 seconds. Leaves of both teas were still tightly curled. Differing colors between the two teas really starts to set them apart. 2010 Spring has an orange hue and the stronger flavor. The pale yellow-green of 2010 Fall looks almost neon against the white porcelain with lots of creaminess and flowers. I'm reminded of a creamsicle. Both have strong citrus notes.
Second steep was only a few seconds longer. Slowly the flavor builds, and the finish begins to develop. More orange flowers. More of the roast in the 2010 Spring.
Third steep, there's more body and layers to both teas as expected.
Bottom of the cup fragrance: After I emptied my cup, both teas left a persistent, sweet scent clinging to the porcelain.
Fourth steep has the 2010 Fall leaves opening up and filling up it's gaiwan. 2010 Spring maintains it's shape. Both teas continue to develop more layers but I find myself drawn to the greener oolong. It's flowers and cream are so easy to enjoy, there's little effort for so much pleasure.

Far from finished, I do the Stress Test: or "pushing" the tea. Skilled brewing and appropriate water temperature can bring out the best in most good quality teas. One can also learn things about their tea when brewing under hostile parameters with longer heat and infusing times. Usually this is reserved for oolongs and puers; the better quality ones can handle it quite well without developing astringent notes. (Phoenix oolongs don't seem to handle this test very well, regardless of grade.) Some high quality, aged teas "can't be pushed" meaning they give up their flavor and fragrance on their own time and no amount of coaxing or brewing skill will deliver those notes prematurely. For the fifth steep, I left the tea in for about a minute longer than necessary. The 2010 Spring roast yielded some tannins and tipped the balance of the flavor profile. 2010 Fall performed more admirably, unleashing more piquant citrus and buttery texture.
I approached the sixth steep with less aggression. Another think to look at was if the tea would bounce back when reverting to normal brewing standards. Now that the tannins were revealed in the 2010 Spring, they were staying put. The 2010 Fall was more accommodating, maintaining consistent flavor throughout it's ordeal.

Resting period: This is something Tim does to see what changes will occur to the flavors when you walk away from your tea in the middle and let it cool a bit before resuming the tasting session. After a few steeps, leave the tea alone in the brewing vessel, without water but covered by the lid.
I returned to brew the seventh steep after a hour long rest for the tea. I used boiling water again and steeped for 30 seconds. The biggest change was in the 2010 Fall version. It shifted the balance towards a sweet but grassier taste. Not bad at all, just different with more herbaceous notes. Depending on my mood, I could see myself craving both flavors. The 2010 Spring held on to it's roasted notes with a sweeter touch.

Golden Buddha Hand has some of the largest leaves of the Tikwanyin family. 2010 Spring leaves never fully unfurled due to it's roast, the leaves remained a little kinked. 2010 Fall's leaves opened up completely, flat and full with a soft, resilient texture.

Both versions Golden Buddha Hand were surprising in their brewing stamina. I've never been really interested in Buddha Hand before this. Many of the one's I'd tasted before were decent but far from inspiring. The Mandarin's find is special one; easy to like and capable of holdingmy interest. I got to examine two different harvests and processing styles. It showed me some of the flavor range the leaves are capable of. With a relaxing chaqi, I spent the rest of the day pleasantly warm and happy.

Happy Lunar New Year!

2011-02-02T11:25:00.000-08:00

Rabbit painting by Tsui Po

Many thanks to our dear tea friends and patrons for your continued support and patronage.

Gong Hay Fat Choy from all us at the little tearoom on Howard Street. May the Year of the Rabbit bring you good health and fortune.

It's been quite a year for the tearoom and I'm looking forward to what the rabbit will bring. Hopefully not more snow or sleet or the icicle that nearly took out my eye. This past month has introduced us to many new tea friends and we've discovered new developments in the New York tea community. I'm keeping a close eye on our friend Kingston's new Brooklyn venture. I got to handle some royal yixing at his place and Brandon was there to record it. He continues my last post on his blog WrongFu Cha. I can hardly wait for his official opening.

The past few months have been devoted to tasting and testing some exclusive teas from The Mandarin's tearoom. While this is the Tea Gallery blog, my dual job identity means some overlap and I'll be using this space to review teas from both companies. Check back soon to see what we've been drinking these past weeks.

Our Big February Event:

An Evening of Chinese Tea and Tradition:
The annual Coffee and Tea Festival comes to NYC this month and we're sponsoring a special VIP tasting and presentation at the show! For the first time ever, The Tea Gallery and The Mandarin's Tearoom will be showcasing Chinese tea and it's culture in an exclusive evening event on Saturday the 19th from 5:30 to 7:30pm. Much of what we'll be sharing is based on the lecture series we do for private audiences and educational programs. We'll take a brief look at the historic forces that shaped Chinese tea and influenced the rest of the world. We'll also explore ancient tea myths and learn how to develop a modern palate for tasting teas. The second part of the evening is a tasting reception where tea masters, Michael Wong and Timothy Hsu demonstrate traditional brewing styles and serve signature teas of the tearoom.
Learn more at: VIP Tasting Event.
When: Festival starts February 19-20, 11am - 5pm
Where: 7 West 34th Street (between 6th and 5th Avenue), New York, NY 10001
Due to space constraints, seating is limited and participants are urged to buy tickets ahead of time to reserve their spots. Tickets to the VIP event can be purchased along with Saturday's admission or purchased separately: Get Tickets!

10% off any teas or accessories purchased during the events. We will also be raffling of free admission tickets ($20.00 value each) for the upcoming NYC Coffee and Tea Festival at our weekly Wednesday tasting events on Feb. 9th and 16th.

February 2010 - Wednesday night tea tasting schedule: $20.00 per person

February 9 Puer Tea 6:30 - 7:30pm
February 16 Oolong Tea 6:30 - 7:30pm
February 23 Japanese Tea 6:30 - 7:30pm

Brooklyn Royalty

2011-01-10T19:56:00.000-08:00

Last Sunday, Brandon from Wrongfu Cha was in town and the two of us paid a long overdue visit to our friend Kingston. For the past couple years he's been energetically building his teapot museum and tearoom in the wilds of Brooklyn. Since my last visit, he's been tirelessly growing his collection of yixing antiquities and remodeling his space. There's even an official name and banner that greets you at the front entrance: Orchid Tea House. While his tearoom is still a work in progress, close friends and fellow antique collectors drop in to have tea and admire his latest acquisitions.

We spent the entire day with Kingston, enjoying his hospitality and expressing unabashed envy at many of his pieces. The one that really took my breath away deserves a post all it's own:

Two Ching Dynasty teapots made with duan-ni (yellow) clay. These elegant shuiping were export Yixing pots for the royal Siam collection during the reign of King Rama V (his full name:Phra Bat Somdet Phra Poramintharamaha Chulalongkorn Phra Chunla Chom Klao Chao Yu Hua).

Whats even more astonishing is that the pair was acquired separately by Kingston. Thanks to a combination of savvy, luck and friendly tea connections. While they look nearly identical, there are small differences due to the handmade quality. There is also a difference in hue. One has been used to make tea for some time and the other was left pristine. The tea stained pot had a deeper glow and the edges stood out where the tea collected and darkened. It also felt smoother than the untouched pot. The sandy texture of the duan-ni clay was softened by the tea oils and there was a comparable difference between the two.

The tall flange was eggshell thin and that both lids escaped chipping was a miracle.Both pots were lightweight and fit snugly in my hand.

The royal Thai stamp was on both teapots but most visible on the tea stained bottom. There was also a smaller stamp on the inside of the lid.

The craftmanship is exquisite, the sharply defined spout is balanced by a slender ear. There was barely any space between the rim and the teapot's opening. To own even one of these spare and sophisticated teapots is impressive but two is incredible.

Winter Green

2010-12-15T11:08:00.000-08:00

At our Japanese tea tasting over the weekend, we introduced something most people haven't heard too much about: aged Japanese gyokuro. Yes, a green tea that has been "aged" and it's not even Chinese. It's also not a new practice, Japanese connoisseurs and tea merchants often save their gyokuro harvest for up to a year before they will drink it. While we always look forward to drinking fresh gyokuro in the spring, we've been buying extra and storing some on the advice of Japanese tea friends. When properly stored, many green teas can last up to a year without dropping in quality and freshness but gyokuro is purposefully stored to improve the quality and the tasting experience. The tea is supposed to mellow and become even sweeter. The flavors are better balanced and even the texture is supposed to improve. We have a couple questions that we hope to answer with our own experiments: How long can gyokuro be stored and when does it peak? At what point in time does aging no longer improve the tea? Will the gyokuro eventually go stale like other green teas? What's the longest gyokuro has been successfully aged?

Our gyokuro (pine grade) comes from Uji in the Kyoto prefecture. It was harvested in the Spring of 2009 so we've had it for about a year and half. The broken leaves are rolled into little, slender stalks. The color is a rich, glossy green with bluish highlights. The aroma is soft with a hint of cocoa.

The most frequently asked questions at the tasting event centered around water temperatures and brewing times. We've addressed this a couple times on this blog but I'm happy to reiterate some basic points.Especially since I've been hearing about a popular tea guide on the internet that advises brewing green tea at 170 - 180 Fahrenheit for up to a minute... do not do this.

water cooler

Any guide that just has a general brewing temp. for all green tea, regardless of type is useless. Longjin, bilochun, sencha, gyokuro (to name a few) all have different requirements to achieve their distinctive flavors. For example: Chinese LongJin can handle a flash rinse at 185 Fahrenheit but then the water temperature is lowered dramatically (by about 30 degrees) for the actual infusion. Gyokuro, even one that's been aged like ours, requires very low temperature brewing from the start and doesn't get a rinse. If you brew a Japanese green tea at 180F, you are cooking the leaves. You might as well invite friends over for soup instead of tea. Also, the "tea guide" I was shown didn't even go into leaf and water ratios. I'm guessing the writer uses very little tea in a large amount of water and then a long steep time to pull out as much flavor as possible. Generalities like this just leads to mediocre tea, avoid them and take the time to practice and experiment for yourself. It's not hard to memorize the different requirements of tea; the knowledge will come naturally with experience. Okay, rant over; back to the tea.

For the gyokuro, we brewed with water at 130-140 Fahrenheit.

I used my small gyokuro pot (made of tokoname clay) that holds 90ml and about a tablespoon of tea leaf.

Traditionally, water used for brewing sencha or gyokuro is brought to a boil first even though we use a lower temp. The boiled water is used to heat up the brewing vessel and cups. I transferred the water from the teapot to a water cooler bowl and added the dry leaf. The heat from the teapot brought out the delicate, nutty aroma of the leaf. It's very important to preheat the teaware because they can pull a lot of heat away from the water for brewing, especially water that's already a low temperature. After a little wait, my water was sufficiently cool enough to use (transferring water from vessel to vessel cools it down considerably, it doesn't take long until your ready to brew).

Gyokuro leaves are delicate and should be handled gently. For the first brew, I used a fine but steady stream and started pouring from the edge of the pot. Slowly, I made my way around the rim of the teapot and until the pot was filled to the brim. This way the leaves are introduced to water indirectly and they swirl gently around the pot, opening up without getting bruised.

I waited 30 seconds before decanting the first infusion and poured it directly into the tea cups using a gentle stop and pour action. (This method is described in a previous post on brewing sencha)

The second infusion takes 10 seconds longer and the water can be a few degrees hotter but not much more than that. I noticed the leaf didn't fully expand even after the second infusion.

The third cup is optional and usually the weakest infusion even while using hotter water. I added another 15 seconds to the brewing time. Much of the delicate flavors are released with the first two brews and and I tasted less umami. It was still enjoyable but I knew that was the end of the experience.

While the leaves become a bright, saturated green when they unfurl in the water, the tea itself is quite pale with a yellow-green hue. However, it holds a surprising amount of body with a soft, chocolaty finish. The first sip is a light touch and then the umami starts to blossom and triggers the regions of the mouth that produce saliva. The sweetness follows the savory elements. The idea is to sip and savor this tea slowly so that you can experience the subtle shifts in flavor. It's almost difficult to do because the tea is very smooth and travels easily down the throat. Minute leaf bits are suspended in the infusion like dust motes in air and add to the satiny texture. Not a trace of bitterness or astringent quality, it was also missing the grassy note of a fresh gyokuro. I ate some of the leaves themselves and they tasted pretty fresh.

Even though it's been below freezing in New York and Toki likes to keep the windows open, I haven't experienced the internal cooling sensation that usually accompanies green teas. So far, I haven't gotten the usual chills and I'm happy to discover a green tea I can drink in the dead of winter without any discomfort. I'm curious to do a side by side comparison tasting of this gyokuro and the next harvest in 2011.

Aged gyokuro... worth the wait so far.

Dragon and Phoenix

2010-12-08T10:13:00.000-08:00

I finally brought my dragon & phoenix gaiwan to the Tearoom for show & tell. This was the super ornate, hand painted one I found at a Hong Kong teashop; balked at the price; went home to New York without; then had reverse buyer's remorse and made Michael order it for me. It's been languishing in the back of my tea cabinet while we focused on setting up the new tearoom. I was happy to rediscover this lovely piece last week:

I love the lush details of the dragon with the gold outline of it's jaws, clean white fangs and every scale was added by hand. Even the background hasn't been spared as a closer look shows a tight random pattern surrounding the mythical beasts and flowers. It's richly colored and psychedelic yet also elegant.

When I received the gaiwan, Winnie also handed me this:

At first I thought it was very flimsy puer knife. Turns out, all the gold trim on the lid, cup and saucer was painted and left matte. The "knife" is used like a scraper to bring out the traditional shine of the gold. The blade is agate and polishes up the gold paint. I had not counted on that and Winnie just gave a shrug and said "That's how it's done, get scraping." Seriously, she seemed more surprised that I didn't know this fact about new gaiwans. I also realized just how much gold was incorporated into the artwork, like the thin line that traces the dragon's spine or the flecks in the Phoenix feathers. Michael was entertained by my frustration and said with an evil grin, "Imagine how much more this would have cost you if the artists had to do this part. It's going to take you hours but you'll save money." Several "Dexter" episodes later and aching fingers, I managed to give the gold details a soft, buttery glow.

I am a little scared of using this gaiwan. It's even thinner than the ones we sell at The Tea Gallery and there is only the slightest flare along the rim. There's more risk of chipping or just outright dropping it while I'm decanting tea. I do intend to use it but I'm also happy enough to just see it displayed.

Now on Flickr

2010-12-06T07:59:00.000-08:00

Yumcha and Toki are teaming up and sharing our photos on

Flickr

We just started the '21 Howard" page to document the daily life of our tearoom in pictures. Please visit and let us know what you think as we add a little bit each day to our photo diary!

Red Hot

2010-12-02T14:39:00.000-08:00

As we're hitting winter's stride in NY, I've been relying on more red (black) teas to get me through the biting cold and sunless mornings. I'm not a morning person and I choose the extra 15 minutes of sleep time over breakfast and tea before I leave home. Fortunately, I work in a tearoom and the promise of good, hot tea is what drags my bleary-eyed self in these days.This morning I made myself the Shizuoka Red, a red tea from Japan that we recently discovered. I love the floral and malty notes of this tea and there's something delicate about it's structure that separates it from the more traditionally robust red teas. The rich, coppery color of the brew gives me a cozy feeling and actually whets my appetite.

The broken, oxidized leaves of this tea resemble a Chinese red tea like Keemum. I could see bluish highlights on the mahogany covered leaves. I also spotted some very slender stems. Their lighter color made them easy to pick out against the dark leaf.

Native red teas are somewhat rare in modern day Japan. I heard they were more prevalent during less abundant times as it was easier to store and save than the more fragile green teas. Nowadays, the most common red teas on the Japanese market are from other parts of the world. We had sampled a few red teas in the past but they were pale imitations of richer, fruitier Chinese reds. Our opinion changed when we first tried the Shizuoke Red. Beautifully balanced with a natural sweetness, it stood up to our scrutiny and we discovered something novel yet pleasantly familiar at the same time.

I used 4 grams in the medium gaiwan (90cc). A teapot with a built in strainer would be fine too. In fact, because the leaves are so broken up, a gaiwan isn't the best brewing vessel. It's easier for the broken bits to slip out and a strainer would be helpful. I was careful about how big I made the opening between the lid and bowl when I poured out the tea and used a separate strainer to catch escaping leaf bits.

Since this is a Japanese tea, I decided not rinse the leaf and steeped the first infusion for 10 seconds. Toki was also in the office so I decanted the tea into a pitcher and served him a cup. The taste reminded him of a Darjeeling or Oriental Beauty. There is a familiar sweetness with a touch of malt and honey that we also find in those teas. I found more fruit than flowers in my cup. If I could describe a tea's "personality", I'd say it had a sunny nature. The body was smooth and slender, no trace of tannins. I let the second steep sit a bit longer, about 30 seconds. The color and flavor deepened with more malt and maintained it's smoothness. Even with the 3rd steep, there wasn't the usual tannic quality and astringency that comes with red teas. The taste softened dramatically after the fourth steep and like other Japanese teas, didn't carry much stamina for more than 4 cups. I'm still drinking this tea more than any other red tea this season, partly because I feel it warrants more experimentation with brewing times and leaf to water ratios. If anyone else is drinking this tea, I would love to hear how they are doing it. With it's refined sweetness, the addition of sugar or milk would overwhelm this tea's nature.

Fall is my favorite time of year and these past couple months I've been using a vintage cream pitcher from Japan because of its red maple motif. The matching colors and elegant styling is perfect for serving the Shizuoka Red. While I love traditional fairness pitchers, a small, antique creamer does the same job and adds something unique to your tea table. Also, this piece had been separated from the rest of the set long ago so it only cost me $15.00 at the flea market. Old, pretty and very affordable... my favorite combination.

Shizuoka Red and a vintage creamer... a nice way to add some refinement to a casual morning at the office.

The Qi of Tea

2010-11-30T16:05:00.000-08:00

camellia sinensis flower

These past several weeks of tasting events have brought a lot of new people to our tearoom and a lot of common questions. One of them was the about the term chaqi that we use a lot and I'm surprised that I've never really written about it before though it's mentioned so much by us. When I first heard the term, I was already drinking tea with Winnie and Michael regularly. "Cha" meaning tea and "Qi or Chi' meaning flow of energy (usually ascribed to living things), is a way to describe the so called energy of the tea and describe it's physical effects on the drinker.

I can only share my personal experiences with chaqi and the little I've gleaned from drinking tea. The idea of chaqi and it's role in tea's history could fill a book. Michael and Toki say it's a term that's been used for centuries. When a lightly roasted Pheonix oolong can cool the body while a heavy roasted WuYiCliff oolong can make a person sweat though both teas are served at the same temperature, the chaqi is used to explain the phenomena. (This was well before people understood about caffeine content or the nature of polyphenols. Even discovering and isolating unique tea compounds only tells us part of the story now.) Chaqi is inextricably linked to Chinese medicine and the belief that our own qi flows in meridians throughout our body which is subject to blockages and imbalances depending on various influences. The balance of yin and yang is the balance of opposites, hot and cold, light and dark. Individuals have differing balances but men are generally considered more yang while women are yin. It's believed as you get older your body's balance changes towards cooling yin and you must avoid food or drinks that will cool you further. In China and Taiwan, the elderly are encouraged to drink more aged and heavily roasted oolongs or aged puer because the qi of younger and lighter teas can be too chilling. That's one example of chaqi in every day life. White and green teas, although served hot, are considered cooling to the body's internal heat and used to refresh oneself in hot weather.

light shan lin xi oolong

When does chaqi become a factor in your tea drinking?

For some reason, only Chinese and Taiwanese teas are considered to have chaqi and we don't consider the qi of an Indian tea or Japanese tea. Maybe it comes from the centuries of breeding particular tea trees with leaves that could produce such strong physical sensations in China and Taiwan that hasn't been replicated elsewhere. Tea trees that are more than a century old are considered to possess more chaqi. "The older the tree then the stronger the qi" is a common belief. Strong chaqi or the perception of it can dramatically raise the price of a tea. Often times, the difference between a tea that costs a few hundred dollars a pound to the same cultivar costing a few thousand is more about the trees' ancestry and the chaqi than the difference in flavor and aromas. The books written about Chinese tea connoisseurship from an eastern perspective often discuss chaqi when describing certain teas.

Chaqi is important to the tradition of Chinese tea. At the tearoom, we cannot evaluate a tea without certain expectations of chaqi. If it's a WuYi Cliff Tea, then we want to feel a gradual build-up of heat in the hands and chest. Sometimes, there is pressure behind the eyes and a coolness on the neck. I've seen fair skinned people become rosy after a few sips that has little to do with the actual temperature of the tea. I don't know why I'm particularly sensitive but an old tree, WuYi oolong makes my normally cold hands become damp with sweat and I get a tingling sensation down my spine. I can't drink light Taiwanese oolongs during the winter because I get too cold and my fingers will go numb. My favorite part is the calm and sometimes outright bliss that settles on me when. We also drink tea for the flavor and aroma but if there isn't any chaqi to enjoy, the tea can't really hold our interest. I've noticed that tea's from older tree's have more complex flavors and fragrances so these desirable characteristics go hand in hand with chaqi.

I try to find my own balance between the traditional wisdom of Chinese medicine and it's modern interpretations. Everything I've shared here is based on what I've learned from tea masters and personal experience. What I have are only anecdotal discoveries and that isn't the same as scientific evidence. That's fine with me and I think it's a personal journey for anyone interested in Chinese teas. Just as everyone has differing tolerance levels to caffeine, some people are insenstive to the myriad physical sensations that premium teas can deliver. Whatever unique combination of tea compounds causes these lovely sensations, we just call it the chaqi.

There's a lot of mystery surrounding chaqi and I think it can get overly complicated. I've heard some connect it to "quantum vibrations" of all things. I doubt that they have actually discovered a sub-atomic influence on an individual level (I can really taste the quarks in this tea!) nor is this reasoning even necessary. Chaqi is a lot of things but it doesn't have to be the gateway to everything. I'm reminded of a quote by the late, great Richard Feynman, "Keep an open mind, but not so open that your brain falls out." Words to live by...

Happy Thanksgiving

2010-11-23T14:00:00.000-08:00

I have a lot to be thankful for this year. I love working with The Tea Gallery and now that we've joined with The Mandarin's Tearoom, I get to learn from Toki whose been generous with both his time and tea. It's been a busy month for us but one that's been filled with so much support and enthusiasm from our friends and patrons, there's no room for complaint. Though Thanksgiving is a holiday unique to the U.S., I'm also grateful for the positive welcome we've received from the international tea community now that we can ship to the rest of the world. More countries are being added every day thanks to your requests. We're moving forward with more events and workshops this winter and we hope to see you all soon at the tearoom.

This season, get 10% off any order worth $50.00 or more with our holiday coupon code when you shop online: TTGW1NTR

Just type in the code on the checkout page of our website. This is a multi-use coupon that is good till the 31st of December.

Wishing you a wonderful holiday!

Our New Tearoom

2010-11-03T08:21:00.000-07:00

Our tearoom is finally open and the first two days have been super hectic but so much fun! We've hosted our first couple tea events and were so pleased with the turnout and enthusiasm. Thanks to everyone for you support. I'm so sorry to those we had to turn away for some of the events which filled up quickly, especially tonight's oolong tasting. Your requests have been heard and next week's tea tastings will focus just on oolongs. Details can be found on our Events Page. To those who signed up too late for this week's event, I hope you can make it to next week's tea socials.

We've already had a couple of private tea tastings and it's given Michael a chance to break in his tea table. When available, Tim likes sit in and share his own insight of the teas that Michael brews. His presence has added a new dimension to our usual tea session. Of course, all the members of the tearoom is expected to brew for clients; you just never know who's going to stop by and share a cup.

Our tearoom is ready to receive patrons but I have a feeling it will always be a work in progress. Between Tim and Michael, there will always be changes depending on mood and season. We hope you'll visit to us and see for yourself.

And to the many tea drinkers who keep asking what we look like....

We're just regular people who love tea.

Not pictured is the camera shy Winnie who happens to be the best looking one out this bunch.

See you soon.

Coming soon..

2010-10-27T10:05:00.000-07:00

We're almost ready.

Things are starting to come together in our new space but there's still more work to be done in the eyes of Michael and Tim. I gave Brandon at WrongFu Cha the chance to post some exclusive pics of our space when he was in town over the weekend. We've made some more changes since then! I'll post some pics once everything is settled or you can drop in during our evening tea events starting next week and see for yourself.

Though we are still a work in progress, we are on schedule and will be officially open November 1st. Here's what else you can look forward to at our new tearoom:

While we're operating by appointment only, we're developing more weekday events that will be open to the public. We'll be developing open tea events every month that will give tea lovers opportunities to enjoy tea in our tearoom. Thanks to all the inquiries about tea workshops and classes, we're working on those as well.

We're also designing a set of Tea Tasting Menus for our new tearoom. Each menu will incorporate teas from both The Tea Gallery and The Mandarin's Tearoom so guests will have a chance to experience a variety of teas in one sitting. Details and the different session levels will be available on our website in a couple days.

There will be some more developments in the coming weeks so please check back to learn about new events. To those of you already signed up for our first week's events: I'll see you next week!

It's back to work for me.

A follow up...

2010-10-19T10:50:00.000-07:00

It seems my previous post may have churned up more questions than it answered. Here are the ones I can answer at this time:

Q. Is your new space open for business?

A. Almost. We're still in midst of moving some furniture around and getting the details just right. Our official opening date will be November 1st. Please check our events page to see more details.

Q. I can't find your storefront, where are you?

A. That's because we don't have a storefront. We are actually on the 2nd floor of our building and accessible by a flight of stairs. Our address is 21 Howard Street, Suite 201 in downtown Manhattan. Please note: we are only open by appointment. Consider us an exclusive club for all you tea lovers out there. Please keep reading to learn more:

Q. Will you be selling drinks to go?

A. No, we are not your typical tearoom and we are not a cafe. We don't even have a storefront and are not remotely interested in selling ready-made drinks or iced teas. We will be hosting private tea tastings and we are currently working on a menu that will allow visitors to try tea from both companies in one session.

Q. I'm not interested in a tea tasting. Can I just come to the new space to browse teas and shop?

A. Sorry, but we are operating only by appointment for the time being. We're still a small group and we really want to focus on a certain level of tea. This means we don't have time to properly host unexpected walk-ins. A scheduled tea session allows us to give the attention that each of our patrons deserve. If you don't have an appointment or haven't called ahead, you will not be admitted into the tearoom. There will be events open to the public and this is you chance to drop by and taste some teas for less than the cost of a basic tasting.

Q. What can I expect at November's Tea Events ?

A. Taste teas from both The Tea Gallery and The Mandarin's Tea and meet the members of The Tea Gallery and The Mandarin's Tearoom. We're all very busy and not always in the tearoom at the same time; these scheduled events give us an opportunity to be together and share our love of tea with others. Mingle with other tea people and make some new friends over a common interest. Each day is devoted to a different tea category; visitors to every event will get a chance to try all 6 styles.

If you're still not ready to take the plunge and sign up for a personal tea tasting, this is your chance to check out our space and try our teas for half the price of a tasting. We're also sweetening the pot by offering a special 10% discount off any teas or teawares purchased during the event. If you show up for all five events, you can attend the last one for free. See more details on our Events Page.

Q. Can I still buy online and pick up my purchase in person?

A. Yes. New York City dwellers can still choose the "in-store pick-up" option on our website whenever they shop online and can come pick up their purchase at the tearoom.

Q. How do I make an appointment and what are the rates?

A. You can call us at 212-777-6148 or send an email to info@theteagallery.com. We are currently working on a series of tasting menus that will vary in price depending on the value of the teas that are served. There will also be an option to customize your personal session and the pricing will depend on the chosen menu. We want your experience to be fun and memorable and will happily work with you to make that happen. More details will be available online in a couple weeks.

Q. Will you be offering classes?

A. Yes! We love to teach and we are working closely with the Mandarin's Tearoom to develop workshops open to the public and private tea classes. More information will be made available on our website in the coming weeks.

Q. Are you going to ship internationally?

A. Thanks to all the requests we've gotten from all over the world for our teas, we are definitely paying attention. We would very much like to make our tea available outside the US and are working on the logistics at this moment. We're asking for just a little bit of patience as our focus has been in getting our tearoom ready.

I hope this was helpful. Please send any more questions you may have to dae@theteagallery.com.

Finally....

2010-10-18T15:28:00.000-07:00

Dear Tea Friends,

I can finally announce it: The Tea Gallery has moved to a new location!

Not that it was much of a secret at this point. (I may have blabbed a bit to some tea friends who ended up blabbing on certain internet forums...)

We're partnering up with longtime friend, Tim of The Mandarin's Tearoom and sharing his spacious studio in downtown Manhattan. While both tea companies will remain separate entities, the decision to share a tearoom was based on years of mutual respect for each other's tea and principles. It's a match made in heaven as Michael and Tim blend their Hong Kong sensibilities and transform the former design studio into an elegant tearoom. Our old tea table was just set up and touches of the Mandarin have change the look of the original setup. Tim's teapots and wooden coasters are scattered across the table, as is a cigar or two. There is always a break for tea in the afternoon. I couldn't be happier working along side Michael and now I'm also learning from Tim.

We're on old Howard Street, right above bustling Chinatown and below the designer shops of SoHo. The same policies that we had at the original space still apply. We're operating by appointments but we are also adding a slew of events to help celebrate our new look. Our official opening is on Nov.1st and we're kicking off with a week's worth of daily tea events. For more information, see the Events page.

I'll be posting pictures of our new space in the next post.

So when are you coming over for some tea?

Fall Happening

2010-10-08T08:35:00.000-07:00

1996 loose leaf puer with mystery origins.

Hello Tea Friends!

Sorry I haven't posted in so long. We're in the middle of some big changes and our little blog has been neglected in the process. I was asked to keep quiet about what's in the works but it's become known as the worst kept secret in "teadom". There have been leaks here and there (looking at you, Brandon of WrongFuCha..) and while I still can't talk about it, most people have figured it out. If you're the few still in left in the dark... here's what I can say:
The Tea Gallery is planning a change of scenery with an old friend.

If you need a couple more hints, just hunt down Brandon (the blabbermouth) on teachat.com.

Nanou Green

Labor Day Weekend: Tea with Friends

2010-09-04T18:08:00.000-07:00

This Labor Day weekend, Brandon AKA WrongFuCha was kind enough to host Yumcha and family (including Nana the pup) at his home in Delaware. If you're ever lucky enough to get an invite to his corner of the state; expect thoughtful hospitality, a sophisticated tea selection and lots of satisfying eats.

On Saturday, a couple members of his Philadelphia tea club came by to share tea and treats with us. The session started with a lovely Phoenix DanCong; a gift from Toki of The Mandarin's TeaRoom. He couldn't make it to Delaware but his gift of tea was appreciated by all. It was soft and full with hints of fresh almonds. We didn't have much info on the tea itself. The enigmatic Mandarin promised only to reveal his tea's pedigree after we drank it. "Taste first, ask questions later" seems to be an inscrutable, Hong Kong tea master thing because Michael also does this all the time.The intent is to provoke an honest evaluation of the tea unclouded by prior assumptions based on age, harvest details and mountain elevation.

When visiting a fellow tea junkie, it's always a good idea to bring your own teas to share. Keeping in mind my host's taste, I brought a selection that he would enjoy. Members of his tea group were still unfamiliar with certain tea styles and so Brandon requested some teas that would broaden their experience. I brought along one of my Taiwanese teapots for those who were curious about the style. I already knew that Brandon was a fan of Master Lin's teas, so I had a 6 Year Aged, Tung Ting from Master Lin to showcase with the teapot.

We moved on the 2004 Tea Gallery, white puer cake. The afternoon sun lit up the silver hairs of the cake and it was admired by the other guests. As a host, Brandon made sure that there would be a thoughtful selection of the new and familiar for everyone. As a guest and a friend, I was happy to provide a few teas and let someone else brew them for a relaxing change.

It was a pleasure watching Brandon carefully choose different brewing vessels for the most harmonious pairings. Not everyone thinks about the visual harmony of the tea table but it can be jarring when incongruous pieces share the same space. Sometimes, those with the most diverse collections make the mistake of having every accessory on view when some editing would create a more sophisticated setting.

Our tea host, Brandon, looking relaxed and ruddy cheeked from the chaqi of the puer. At this point, I was also feeling extremely warm in spite of the cool wind drifting through the open windows of the tea room. The chaqi left my hands damp with sweat.

Once you start down the road of aged puer, subsequent teas can be tried in order of greater years. The next tea was a sneak preview of a Hong Kong storage, 1996 loose leaf puer from The Tea Gallery. Not yet available through our site, it was nice to surprise our host with a new tea from the Gallery (he's practically memorized our selection).

After just 4 steeps, the build up of chaqi had me in a drunken, blissed out stupor and I felt too full too manage another sip of tea. The rest of the party was in a similar mood. Conversation trailed off and it seemed like a good place to end the session and say good-bye to the Philly members. Once the feeling of fullness wore off, it was replaced by an eager appetite sharpened from all the tea we had drunk. The rest of the evening was devoted to old fashioned milkshakes and greasy cheeseburgers. Later, I fell asleep to the soothing sound of crickets.

On Sunday, we rolled up our sleeves and set to work documenting ways to evaluate Yixing teapots with water and tea for Brandon's blog. Our host directed, I took photos and David posed for the camera. Inspiration for the post goes to Michael of The Tea Gallery and Bill from China Flair. Read about our efforts at WrongFuCha's blog.

Happy Labor Day!

WuYi Tea Sunday

2010-08-01T15:36:00.000-07:00

Photo by WrongFu Cha

This weekend I partnered up with Brandon from WrongFu Cha to document and share some tips on brewing WuYi Cliff YanCha (rock tea). This seemed like a good time to taste The Tea Gallery's 2009 Little Foot which doesn't get nearly enough loving as it deserves. I made the tea and stayed still for the pictures (the easy part) while Brandon took photos, wrote up a quick and easy guideline and posted the results (the hard part). Visit Brandon's blog and read: Brewing Rock Tea.

Summer Update

2010-07-23T13:54:00.000-07:00

Hello Tea Folks!
The Tea Gallery is closed until the August 14th while we take our summer vacation. That also means we won't be shipping goods until after the 14th. Sorry for the inconvenience. Just so you're not too upset with us, we'll be offering Free Shipping for the rest of the month. At least we hope that helps.

I leave you with some sencha pics from our last tea session before our break:

Kagoshima Master Blend

Breakfast at Yumcha's: Sencha

2010-07-15T10:43:00.000-07:00

All Photos by Wrongfu Cha

Now that our Sencha's are in, I haven't stopped brewing potfuls of our selection and I've also been cooking with it. I couldn't wait to have company over and share a couple of my favorite tea dishes. I love to make the traditional Japanese dish, ochazuke. It's a rustic rice bowl that is usually topped with cooked salmon and half submerged in a refreshing sencha broth. The used tea leaves then get mixed into a chilled, sesame tofu dish and they can be served together.Summer is the perfect time for a breakfast like this; light, refreshing and it won't weigh you down.
Brandon of WrongfuCha came over for a weekend of teas and eats and documented the antics. You can see the rest of his photos on WrongfuCha's Flicker page.

I used the SaeMidori for this dish but the OkuMidori or Kagoshima Master Blend would also taste great. The only one I wouldn't use is the Premium Grade Tenryu because the flavors are so soft and delicate. While the rest are bold and hearty enough to hold up to strong taste of salmon, I would just pair the Tenryu with a simple wagashi and nothing heavier than that.

Ochazuke is great for a late weekend brunch. In the morning I have time to cook up some short grain, Japanese sticky rice. The flavors are few and simple so the ingredients have to be stellar. I use premium grade, new crop rice that will be plump and sweet. I chose wild Alaskan King salmon that I salted and pan seared. (Incidentally, Mr. Yumcha and I did visit a friend in Alaska one summer and got to go fishing for Halibut and Coho Salmon. The goal had been to catch a King but the opportunity never presented itself. We did bring back a hundred pounds of cleaned, filleted fish to New York.) I don't see the salmon as a main component. It adds a beautiful color contrast and complements the sweet but savory sencha. One 8oz fillet can generously serve three. Place pieces of salmon over the mound of rice. I like to garnish with white sesame seeds and finely sliced scallion.
Once you have your bowls assembled, you're ready to make tea. With my alcohol burner I can make the tea right at the table where we dine. (It's a small Brooklyn apartment so our little tea table also doubles as a dining table.) Prepare the sencha as you would for a regular tea session. Find tea tips at: Brewing Sencha.

Once you're ready to pour out the tea, divide the infusion between the bowls. I made three servings and ended up using two steeps amongst them. I like to let the tea- broth fill the bowl half-way. I know others who like it more or less soupier. Some may think this is a hot dish but if you brew the tea correctly, this shouldn't be the case. It also cools quickly and you have a nice meal that actually cools you down. The taste is sweet and mild with a nice umami kick. Mr. Yumcha added salt to deepen the flavors but Brandon and I found the salted salmon was enough to season the tea and rice.

While my brunch companions ate, I quickly moved on to the next part of the meal: my chilled tofu dish with sencha leaves. Prepare the ingredients and assemble the dish before hand so all that's necessary is to toss in the spent sencha leaves and mix until evenly incorporated. This way I can finish it at the table, right after I've prepared the ochazuke. A few more seconds and I have a second dish that's ready to eat.
While the rice is cooking for the ochazuke, get out the ingredients and prepare the second dish. I like to use soft tofu because I prefer the texture over the firm or silken varieties. Leave it out in a shallow bowl with a heavy plate on top so some of the moisture is squeezed out. Using a fork, I simply mash up the block of tofu until it has a scrambled egg appearance and there no large chunks.Add a spoonful of grated, fresh ginger; an ounce of toasted wild, Korean sesame oil; some sesame seeds and salt to taste. You can adjust these ingredients, depending on your tastes. It's why I haven't used specific measurements. I like to play around and use what's available in my kitchen. It should be well seasoned with the sencha adding a spinach like flavor, while the tofu is a nice creamy foil for the nutty sesame and umami notes.

Judging by the empty bowls after our Sunday brunch, I think my meal went well. All thanks to sencha.

An Afternoon Lift: Rising Orchid

2010-07-01T17:10:00.000-07:00

Lightly Roasted, Spring Harvest 2010, Superior Grade Iron Bodhisattva - Single Estate Oolong.

A couple more spring harvest teas were delivered while I was on vacation. The one Winnie and I were most excited about was the TiKwanYin that deserves it's own special name: Rising Orchid. It describes very well the haunting aroma of old-fashioned orchids that saturates the air. It's times like these I almost feel guilty that I can go on vacation and drink tea for a living.

For this tea, Winnie prepared the Mandarin's gaiwan sans saucer.
The mythic illustrations of dragon and phoenix on the sides fit our mood; anticipation of an ethereal experience. Once the leaves were poured into the heated gaiwan, the soft aroma stirred from it's sleep.

Winnie used 4 grams of tea and used boiling water to quickly rinse the leaves. Now the famous fragrance was climbing out of the cup and filling the air between us. The first sip was was sweet and perfumed with more florals. Already, a garden was blooming in my mouth. The finish was clean and minty. More flowers and fruit appeared with each exhalation.

The palest spring green color suspended in water.
The color never deepened more than this, even though the flavor intensified with subsequent steeps. The ghost of the tea's fragrance waited at the bottom of the cup.

Winnie decided to heat up one of her teapots and transfer the tea leaves from the gaiwan. She does this often, auditioning the tea in the gaiwan before deeming it worthy of a teapot.

After three steeps, the leaves were not fully open. We could expect a few more steeps once they were in the teapot.

We tasted three more steeps in the teapot.

The elegant bouquet of flowers was starting to fade by the last cup.

After the last steep, Winnie cleaned out her teapot and gently but thoroughly dried the pot with a tea towel. The slightly rough texture of the cloth also buffs and removes dried tea stains. This is how Winnie communes with her teapots. Only after she felt the pot was "happy" did she put it down and we moved on to the next tea.

Questions for The Gallery: Topsy Turvy Gaiwans

2010-06-18T12:56:00.000-07:00

Recently, Toki of The Mandarin's Tea Room brought our attention to a couple of questions regarding gaiwans and ours in particular floating around the internet. At the request of Toki, I posted the answers on this blog (I think he's got some tea riding on the outcome).
Question 1: The lid rests at a crooked angle on the gaiwan. Why doesn't it sit perfectly straight on the cup?
While Michael knows the answer to this, he has a hard time explaining something that makes very natural sense to him. I think I really understood best myself, when Bill from China Flair explained it to me: A perfectly round lid that maintains constant contact with the walls of the gaiwan is one that has no natural gaps for tea to pour out. Extra effort and finger strength is needed to create and maintain an artificial gap that can lose it's place. You also run the risk of creating a vacuum that seals the lid to the cup, this can cost precious brewing seconds as you try to unstick the lid and create the gap for the tea to pour through.
Let's look at a Late Ching Dynasty gaiwan up close:

When the lid is set straight across the cup, there should be a gap between two sides of the lid and the wall. The other two opposite sides of the lid should be in contact with the cup. The tension between those two contact points act as a hinge for the lid to swing around. All good gaiwans should have this feature. As Bill from China Flair explained it; there should be a position where the lid rests naturally to create those points of tension and the gaps. and then you won't need to rely on finger strength to maintain an artificial gap. He has a great tip for the pros: Examine your gaiwan BEFORE you even add the tea leaves and find the contact points. Position the gaiwan and pitcher in such a away that you should be able to grasp the vessel and pour from it without any wasted time or movement.

One of the most cringe-worthy moments I've witnessed occurred while having tea with a friend at a tea house that just opened up in the city. While the proprietor was a very nice man and an avid tea drinker, it became quickly obvious that he had never been trained to brew with a gaiwan. What he knew was probably gleaned from watching his vendors and crucial details had been missed during his observation. First, he used a very lightweight glass gaiwan to prepare an aged puer, when a porcelain one would have handled the high heat better. Once the tea was in, he let hot water overflow his glass gaiwan for a good several seconds. A number of sizable tea leaves was pushed out in the cascade. While a dome of boiling water settled on the top and rested along the rim, he grasped the edges with his fingers and let the scalding water break against his skin. Ouch. I noticed his finger pads were a vivid, blistering scarlet. The lid slipped against his fingers a few times while he poured out the tea, allowing more large leaf chunks to escape and some awkward fumbling. Like watching a car lose control and veer off the road,we couldn't look away. When we asked why he chose that particular gaiwan to brew with, he explained that the porcelain lids were all crooked while the glass lid fit perfectly in the cup. If he realized all those times the lid slipped against the wall of the cup and further burned his fingers was because of that perfect lid, I don't think he would have been so happy.

Question 2: Why is the saucer so much wider than the foot of the cup?
Sometimes the dish is deeper than the height of the foot the cup has a lot of wriggle room. If you don't center the foot, it can sit at a tilt and appear crooked. This is prevalent in many older gaiwans like the one picture above. While there may not have been an original reason other than the fact that same person rarely worked on both pieces, Michael realized that looser saucers did have a benefit. When a gaiwan fits snugly in it's saucer, excess water that drips into the bottom can create a pressure difference and suction the base to the cup's foot. Of course, the effect doesn't last long and the bottom will eventually come loose again, often while the cup is hoisted in the air.
Michael doesn't use the saucer when he brews tea but this is one of the details he focused on when he commissioned his own gaiwans to sell. He wanted to minimize the risk of falling saucers for the customer that does include their saucer while they make tea.

Here's a modern hand-painted gaiwan I picked out while in Hong Kong. In addition to the beautiful lions cavorting across the lid and cup, it has functional features I'm looking for. A perfectly, imperfect lid with a natural tilt; a thin edge to the flared rim and a nicely balanced knob that's easy for me to grasp.

The saucer is also much wider than the width of the foot. If I ever do brew tea with the saucer, I at least don't have to worry about water suctioning the cup to the saucer. For the sake of full disclosure, this is actually the second one I've purchased... I dropped and chipped the first one while washing it; Yumcha strikes again!
Michael tends to go through several gaiwans in a sitting. Especially when the Mandarin stops by and the marathon comparison tasting commences. By the end of the day all the gaiwans are sitting out with lids at various crooked angles. The scene can look quite haphazard but it's one that hasn't changed in many generations.

Lion's Peak Preview

2010-06-13T14:08:00.000-07:00

Finally, our Lion's Peak Dragonwell (longjin) has arrived and we wanted to share a few basic tips for brewing such a delicate green tea:
We like to use gaiwans with thin porcelain walls to brew our Dragonwell. The thinness of the walls is important because it's the first step in ensuring that heat won't linger and over brew the leaves. Some people really like to use a glass gaiwan and seeing the leaves suspended in the water is very pretty but I've yet to find one that wasn't too clunky for my tastes. I like using a small glass teapot instead because there are better quality ones out there with nice delicate details and thin walls.

Always preheat your brewing vessel with near boiling water. While this is a common practice for brewing all types of teas it's especially crucial for green teas. Longjin requires low temperature brewing but if the temperature gets too cool, then you run the risk of losing out on some wonderful flavor notes. One of the ways to ensure the tea doesn't cool too quickly is to maintain the indirect heat. Also, heat up your serving pitcher and cups.

Winnie used our medium sized gaiwan (90cc) and 5 grams of tea or a heaping tablespoon full.
We like to prep the young buds by gradually building up heat levels. Once the dry tea buds are put into our prepared gaiwan, the heat will gently warm the buds and the aroma will come to life. This is a great time to appreciate Dragonwell's sweet and savory fragrance.

Now it's time to add the water.
Winnie likes to give the buds an initial shock with the rinse. She'll bring the water temperature up to 180F and give the leaves whats known as a "flash rinse" for the first. The hot water is poured in quickly, using the rushing stream technique. Once the leaves are covered, the water is just as quickly poured out into another vessel.
Save the rinse and drink it last. The aroma of the tea will have taken on even more depth and some beautiful notes of sweet rice and toasted nuts. My mouth is usually watering at this point.

With all the talk about low temperature brewing, why use scalding water at all? This is done to "wake up" the buds and prepare them for brewing. I also mentioned that heat is necessary to taste certain components. While we wouldn't brew at 180F for a longer amount of time. The quick dowsing at a higher temp. opens up the outer edges of the buds without unleashing any inner bitterness. I've experimented on friends and tried to omit this step and just brew at low temperatures but we found a dimension of the tea's flavor was missing.
Now that the tea is ready, Winnie brings the water temperature down to about 155F. She doesn't use a thermometer to gauge heat levels, but you can use one until you get a feel for it the Winnie does. The first steep can last as long as 20 seconds. Since we're using cooler water we don't have to worry about "cooking" the tender buds. If the water were even cooler, you can add another 10 seconds to the steep time. Once you decant the first steep and serve it, your assessment of the taste will inform the amount of time you need for the next steep. If the tea tasted too light for you, you will want to brew the next steep longer. However, once you've introduced bitterness from over steeping, there's little you can do to save it.

Beautiful Dragonwell buds are covered in downy hairs that's almost too difficult to see on the buds themselves. But they're easier to notice when you stare at the surface of the infusion. While the body of the tea should have a crystal clarity, the surface will be pocked with the little hairs, It's easiest to notice when light reflects off the surface and you can see the minute interruptions on the top of the brew. Some people use the "flash rinse" to scald off these tiny hairs to make the infusion even clearer. Sometimes the hairs can irritate sensitive throats and while there's no way to avoid them completely, you can avoid drinking the rinse which will have the most concentration. We're not bothered by the hairs and the rinse tastes too sweet and velvety for us to pass up.

When it comes to tea, especially green teas, temperature and timing are your tools to use in a number of ways. Use very low temperature and you can steep the leaves for longer. Sometimes, I like to cold brew green tea so I can take a bottle of it on the road with me. I simply add a tablespoon of Dragonwell to a 24oz water bottle with room temperature water and leave in the fridge overnight. In the morning, I have a sweet, delicious tea without a trace of bitterness that I can take to the gym or office. I love the convenience of it but I would never do this to a premium grade LongJin because heat is necessary for developing certain flavors and textures and experiencing a well rounded cup.
The combination of a high temperature rinse followed by longer low temperature brewing really gives us the best of both worlds. There are number of fun ways to prepare green tea and I'll be sharing more of them in the days to come.

Back to Tung Ting: Spring Harvest

2010-06-05T14:12:00.000-07:00

May was an interesting month for us.

Much of our work took us out of the tearoom and into large, beige conference rooms. We did a tea presentation and tasting every week for corporate sponsored Asian heritage events; I spoke from podiums and lost my voice a couple times. It was a huge relief when I showed up at our tearoom and there was nothing to pack, no lectures to hurriedly edit. I almost cried with happiness as I joined Michael and Winnie at the tea table, something we hadn't done together in several weeks. Winnie sat in the host's chair while Michael was leaning his elbows on the table.
Master Lin's spring harvest TungTing had finally arrived and this would be my first chance to sample it. This was also the first of our spring harvests to come in. Early April frosts in Asia had pushed back the delivery dates on many of our teas so our eagerness was ratcheted up this season. The afternoon light pouring through the windows was golden and hazy. It cast a glow over Winnie and the tea table. The blue and white porcelain took on muted shades and softer edges. I couldn't help but anticipate something special.

The tightly rolled leaves look very similar to the previous winter harvest TungTing.
They look like sleeping baby tortoises. They turn a rich, glossy green once they get wet with thick, woody stems.

The leaves didn't start to unfurl until the third infusion.

Winnie was brewing and she has a lighter touch than Michael. She used about 4 grams in our medium sized gaiwan.

After she rinsed the leaves and reserved the liquid in a separate pitcher, we could smell delicate orchids and a faint, pear aroma coming of the heated leaves. The first brew had just a hint of color. I was almost afraid Winnie had brewed it too light but one sip banished my worries. There was a surprising amount of sweetness and a creamy yet refreshing texture.

By the third brew, the color was a rich, buttery hue with a touch of green. A slender body with a lovely dry note brought the fruit and flowers to a sophisticated level. Although, light roasted oolongs like this don't carry the same depth of flavor that heavier roasts offer, Master Lin's masterful roasting techniques and the care he puts into his gardens are evident in the abundant layers we found in his tea.

Winnie demonstrates traditional tea etiquette: Her hand covers her mouth as she sips tea from her cup.

After the fifth cup, our mouths were practically exhaling a bouquet of sweet TungTing flowers, Winnie shared the reserved liquid from the rinse. It was a soft, shadow of the first cup. Elusive tropical notes washed over our taste buds.

There were still a few more steeps left in the leaves but the brewing time was getting longer. To keep the water hot enough while the leaves steeped, Winnie transferred the tea leaves from the gaiwan into a heated, Yixing teapot she designated for light roasted Tung Ting oolong. She left a couple leaves out for us to inspect. I played with one, pulling and testing the resilience and thickness. The surface of the leaf was silky soft. When I was done, I let it drop into my empty cup not realizing Winnie had one more steep to serve...

Tea Meet Up in Brooklyn

2010-05-03T17:55:00.000-07:00

Photo by Brandon of Wrong Fu Cha

After a long hiatus from my tea life (family, cancer, death, grief, settling affairs, more grief and a recovery of sorts..), I sealed my recent return by hosting The New York City Tea Club at my home in Brooklyn this past Saturday. Guests included some well known tea luminaries like Toki of The Mandarin's Tea Room; Matt from MattCha's Blog; and Michael and Winnie. The wry and funny Brandon from the blog Wrong Fu Cha took photos and video. A number of members couldn't make it but my little tea table was still packed elbow to elbow.
Click here to see Brandon's photos of the event.
My friend Rob, had brought back some gorgeous shincha from his Japan trip for me. For those who don't know, shincha (new tea) is the first sencha harvest of the season. Just three weeks old, my mouth watered as soon as I opened the package and the aroma of fresh, green leaves spilled out. We started with that while more guests arrived. I was feeling rusty since it had been a while brewing gongfu style so I was grateful that Toki took over to brew a couple of puers he brought along. It was also one of those days where my clumsiness was in overdrive. I managed to chip the lid of my glass kettle and shatter a gongfu cup.

Photo by Brandon of Wrong Fu Cha

The time passed quickly and we moved through different teas, getting giddier with each sip. Some of the guests left for other engagements. Four hours after the first cup, the cookies I had picked up at the farmer's market weren't cutting it and we had to break for dinner. We wrapped up with some more shincha at Toki's request. Brandon took video of me brewing the tea. As I said, it's been a long while since I've made tea for anyone and the afternoon of drinking had me buzzed like a newbie. I was surprised by how low my tolerance had gotten and my hands felt jittery while I brewed. If you watch the video you can see it. I also didn't have a water cooler so I made do with a Ching Dynasty bowl once owned by Kingston. It doesn't pour well but it's beautiful. There's no style to speak of; it's fast and sloppy but it tasted great. Click here to watch.
After an excellent dinner and some shots of silky aged bourbon at Char No.4, we headed back to the tea table. Some of Michael's 1980's mushroom puer helped digest the rich meal. More guests took their leave, leaving only Brandon and Benito to share some suixian from the early 1900's. It was smoky and sweet. The chaqi helped relieve the fullness I was feeling from dinner. The last of our tea party finally headed out the door around 1:30 in the morning. I sat in my now quiet room surrounded by empty cups and tea filled gaiwans, feeling tired and content. It felt good to be back.

Visit Brandon's site, Wrong Fu Cha to see more tea events and his personal discoveries. His tea journal is always earnest and entertaining with great photos.

Brew Happy - Exhibition

2010-04-01T12:14:00.000-07:00

The Tea Gallery has been invited to this Saturday's opening of a tea ware exhibition by one of our tea patrons, Andrew Fair. He and his friend Susan will be exhibiting their lovely work in Brooklyn, NY. We're very happy for them and excited to see the show. If you happen to be in Brooklyn this Saturday, check out the exhibit:

Brew Happy

An Exhibition of Tea ware and Other Work by Andrew Fair & Susan Lambert

Opening Reception: Saturday, April 3^rd, 6-9 pm

At: Choplet Pottery and Studio

238 Grand Street

Brooklyn, NY 11211

-Click on the image to see the full size flyer and map details-

From TungTing Mountain

2010-03-01T20:10:00.001-08:00

We spent our morning on Tung Ting Mountain visiting the tea gardens. The sun finally broke through the early morning mist and the cool air was just starting to warm up. It was a peaceful walk through an emerald landscape dotted with palm trees. The air tasted sweet and crisp.

Winnie standing beside the stone walls that separate the tiers of tea bushes in a traditional Tung Ting tea garden. While we walked through the garden, the constant hum of bees drowned out most other noises as they flew from flower to pollen-stuffed flower.

We had a chance to examine the aftermath of the Winter Harvest. The tender, top leaves of the branches are clipped very cleanly by hand and the rest of the plant is left in pristine condition. They are left alone to grow alongside the various other flora of the mountain and tended by the diligent bees until next harvest. We were reluctant to leave the serenity of the tea gardens but it was finally time to taste some tea.

We were fortunate enough to have an audience with the famed Master Lin, whose tearoom has hosted the leaders of Taiwan for generations. We were greeted warmly by his family. Both Master Lin's son and grandson joined us for tea at the table.

Master Lin started with his recently roasted Winter Harvest Tung Ting.

Light, sweet and full of delicate orchid notes. The roast gave an appealing nuttiness and depth to the body of the tea. It was the perfect refreshment after our morning walk.

Master Lin spoke lovingly about his gardens. He cultivates both tea and bamboo.

He also spoke about his dedication to traditional roasting styles but was careful not to divulge the secrets of his family's techniques. He would only say that he used the wood of a particular fruit tree and Michael knew it was unwise to press for more information.
Even his grandson, who was asked to brew the next tea has been kept in the dark regarding the roasting process. He's still in college studying forestry and hasn't been allowed into the roasting room yet. Once he's graduated, he'll start training in this crucial part of his family's tea traditions.

We moved on to Master Lin's selection of aged oolongs. The teas he sets aside for aging get re-roasted once a year. He had his grandson prepare the 6 year aged Tung Ting. We had come across some aged oolongs during our trip but Master Lin's was the most captivating. Our biggest compliment to him was that the tea tasted older than was stated. It was a comment he was very familiar with. More layers of sweet flowers, roasted nuts, wood and bamboo kept revealing themselves. the chaqi was relaxing and I started to feel very warm despite the coolness of the room.

Master Lin took over the tea table again to brew his 20 year aged tea.
The color of the liquor was dark like a decades old puer. The quality of the leaf and his technique was apparent in the taste. Rich, deep, fruity with a hint of malted sweetness. Michael was intrigued by the results of Master Lin's roast, so different from the Hong Kong style he's most familiar with. The chaqi had me blissed out and suddenly craving the sweet pineapple shortcakes we had left in the car. Our tasting was almost at an end, and we had experienced stellar examples of high elevation, hand picked teas produced by a master and brewed by the same. Now it was just a question of how much could we take back with us?

With his tea in such great demand, it wasn't even our place to ask to purchase some.
We waited, hoping we had made a good enough impression (or at least not a terrible one) for him to offer us tea for purchase. Most of you know we are able to sell his Winter Harvest Tung Ting on our website but he also allowed us to take home some of his 6 year and 20 year aged oolong. Sadly, we could only take enough for ourselves and had to promise not to sell any of it. It would be for our own personal enjoyment.
I still have some and very soon I hope to share it with you.

An Update

2010-02-25T14:23:00.000-08:00

Hello Tea Friends,
You may have noticed there haven't been any recent posts on this blog or updates to out website in the past few weeks. I took some time away from my work to deal with an illness in the family. Someone very close to me was diagnosed with lung cancer and it has reached the advanced stages requiring hospitalization. It has been a difficult ordeal that my family and I continue to struggle with. I float between heartbreak and hope while watching a loved one fight for his life.

Michael and Winnie have been amazing with their love and support. They've put my need to spend time with my family before their business and I am extremely grateful to them. My return to normal routines has been slow with many interruptions and I apologize for the delays in responding to your letters and posting new teas and articles. Please know that your patronage is very important to us and helps us do what we love most: sharing tea with others.
Thank you for your understanding.

Oriental Beauties

2010-02-08T10:38:00.000-08:00

While the New York City streets are piled up with snow, it's a good excuse to stay indoors and finally have some of the tea we brought back from Taiwan. Things were so busy for me, I haven't even had a chance to open my tin of Oriental Beauty until now.

While I made myself a cup of this richly fragrant oolong, I looked over my photos of the trip:

We were lucky enough to have an audience with Master Shu, a tea master that specializes in Oriental Beauty in ShinChu Province. He had just completed his winter harvest and had a rare moment to sit down with us. When we got to his teashop, he was in the middle of roasting the last of his harvest and asked that we start our tasting at a table where several of his teas had been brewed competition style.

We were handed cups and ladled the tea into the our cups with a porcelain soup spoon. The tea was room temperature but the sweet perfume of the tea would cling to the spoon and the edge of our cups.

Michael and Winnie dove right in. At first I was concerned that tasting so many teas at once would make it difficult for me to remember which ones I liked and for what reason. While all were delicious a couple stood out above the rest and the choice was easier than I thought. There was also a unanimous agreement within our little group over the favorites.

This was one we all really liked.
Master Shu finally emerged from the roasting room and invited us to sit at his table. One got the impression of limitless energy barely contained in this genial man. We discussed the teas we sampled and he made some fresh pots for us to taste.

Michael sampling teas.
We must have tried over twenty varietials of Oriental Beauty. Because that much tea can really lower one's blood sugar, Master Shu served trays of peanuts he roasted himself.

We ate and drank, tasting the results of different elevations, parentage, and the age of the trees. We examined the wet leaves still steaming from the hot water and dissected the lingering aromas. Some were delicate and pale with high notes that evaporated at the back of the throat. Others were juicy and robust with candy-like perfumes.

As the hours went by, conversation drifted from teas to politics, we had arrived in the last week of election campaigns. (We also had a chance to visit the roasting room but I've been asked not to post photos.) Master Shu talked about his gardens, the changes he was witnessing in the climate and the smaller harvests he and his fellow tea growers were experiencing. They noted fewer leafhoppers, those insects that feed on the tea trees and are vital to the unique taste of Oriental Beauty. It was a somber note of uncertainty but he also focused on the pleasure his tea brings and generously brewed cup after cup of his harvests.

Winnie took copious notes on the ones that caught our interest. We settled on two for the Tea Gallery and purchased a little extra for ourselves. One came from some old trees that get cut back to preserve their longevity and is only harvested every other year (Oriental Beauty - Special Harvest). The other was harvested from a small garden that grows by a mountain stream (Oriental Beauty - Sweet Water). (Both are available as a sampler pack on our site).

Back in New York I have more than memories of that visit, I have the tea from Master Shu's gardens and now I have a little time to sit and enjoy this tasty find. Toki of The Mandarin's Tea reviewed our Special Harvest so I brewed some of the Oriental Beauty - Sweet Water.
A chance to examine the dried leaf closely:

Delicate, wiry stems hold twisted leaves with mahogany and copper hues with bluish tints. Feathery, silver buds are threaded throughout. The aroma is soft with a little apricot.

Once the leaves are rinsed, that famous fragrance pours out of my gaiwan and lingers above my tea table; a bouquet of tropical fruit and antique roses. The first cup is mouthwatering sweet and soft with a hint of grapes. The flavor of ripe fruit and orchid gets deeper and bolder with each steep. A malted sweetness sinks into the taste buds. Each cup delivers a round body with a fine texture that leaves a velvet coating in the mouth. By the 6th cup, the aroma and taste soften and become less complex. I pour some more water over the leaves and let it steep for a few minutes. The first sip of the last cup is bittersweet. Still delicious with a trace of exotic flora but there's an edge of finality and the end to my blissful reprieve from the world.

Brooklyn Treasures - Pt.2

2010-01-26T18:02:00.000-08:00

Back in Brooklyn with Kingston, I was admiring his teapots and enjoying some puer. He keeps most of his collection in his tearoom but there's a more precious selection he stores in his home. When we had enough tea, we went usptairs to see the pieces he keeps closest to his heart. Here's a quick look at just some of the antiques he's collected over time. Sadly the photos can't convey the variety of textures and weight that are a part of appreciating these works of art.

An aged yellow clay (duan-ni) teapot can develop a rich hue and natural glow from years of use. Here's a great example of teapot with a traditional overhead handle.

A trio of small, well crafted gongfu teapots.

But Kingston had even smaller ones to show me:

I put my IPhone down for size reference. Kingston told me that the tiniest one is actually hand made and not from a mold. The cups are also exquisite miniatures but they lose a sense of proportion next to the pot.

An antique yixing clay double boiler for cooking ginseng. Nowadays, you can purchase modern, electric cookers lined with Yixing clay.

At first glance these teapots look like they're made from the yellow yixing clay but they are actually made from the rarer white clay. The one in the background is newer and had a slight greenish-yellow tint. Because of it's shape and hue it resembled a ripe honeydew.

Two lavishly glazed teapots with very different depictions of butterflies flitting among flowers.

A set of Song Dynasty wine cups. The only other cups I've seen of this size belong to Winnie. You can see them on an old post about Song Dynasty ceramics. Kingston explained how the rich, ebony color I was looking at was actually a very thick and translucent dark-mahogany glaze. He shined an intense light into the cup's interior to reveal its secret layers.

It looked like a glimmer of gold treasure shining from the depths of the darkest cavern.
I was getting a little overwhelmed with all the pretty things filling up my vision and Kingston's wealth of information but he still had more to share...

till next time!

Brooklyn Treasures - Pt.1

2010-01-25T18:28:00.001-08:00

I recently spent the day with Kingston, a Tea Gallery friend and patron who's amassed a lovely collection of old and modern Yixing teapots and some beautiful vintage porcelains. Many of his pieces are on display in his Brooklyn basement turned tearoom. We drank aged puer sitting on antique furniture (from Michael) and I got to feast my eyes on some stunning pieces. He was happy to let me take photos and share a small fraction of what he has with my internet friends. Here's a quick glimpse of what I got to see:

An elaborately decorated, large gaiwan with a rare feature:

A different style of saucer that I wish we still saw today.

Unfortunately, I've already forgotten how old these antique cups are. There was so much to see it was a little overwhelming. Maybe Kingston can leave a note about them in the comments section. They're beautiful and perfectly intact.

A complete western style tea set with two different types of cups for export made with Yixing clay in a retro colored glaze.

Kingston has shelves and shelves of teapots. We made plans for a future get together to better document each of his teapots. He has a diverse selection, from the very simple to the richly detailed:

I expected the lotus seeds on top to move independently from the rest of the lid but I was surprised that the eyes of the frog were also separate moving pieces.

I could barely pay attention to the tea Kingston was serving. There was so much to distract me.

A pair of yellow (duan-ni) XuiPing teapots. It may be difficult to tell from the photos but the foreground teapot is a darker shade with a glossier sheen from years of use by Kingston. He left the other pristine to show the difference. More remarkable was how much smoother the skin of the used pot felt from it's untouched twin. That's something else we don't hear too much about. Many people know that teapots darken and develop a rich patina with use. But the texture can also be altered. A pot with a sandy textured surface like these duan-ni pots can feel smoother after some years of use.

This was just the first hour of my visit. Kingston laughed at my excitement over his collection. "This is nothing", he said, " I haven't even shown you the old stuff."

to be continued...

A Little Peek

2010-01-14T12:56:00.000-08:00

Now that our teapot section is up on our website I've been receiving questions from people eager to see what other Yixing teapots we'll be selling. Since we're not as fast at posting new products as some would like, I've decided a quick preview of what's to come is the least our clients deserve. And I had to catalogue them anyway...

These are just some of what we'll be carrying in the future and we want to share a good mix of colors and styles. All of these pots were picked by Winnie or Michael and they have been part of the collection and the backdrop of Tea Gallery life for years. Another reason for the delay is Winne's attachment to her pots and she'll vacillate from selling to keeping a pot over the course of a few days. I understand the sentimental values she has for her pots but I've had a heck of a time keeping track of what can get sold and what can't.

I think she'd keep them all if she could but we really need to make room for some of the other teapots she found!

Well, it's back to work for me and these teapots but I hope this little look satisfied some curiosities...

Post Holiday Glow

2009-12-28T18:56:00.000-08:00

With most of the holiday season behind us, I'm looking forward to spending the new year with some new teapots I picked up in our travels. Here are a few that found their way home with me:

The sweet yellow speckles and oval shape reminded me of a bird's egg turned into a teapot. It's about the size of chicken's egg too.

The red clay and attention to detail on this tree stump pot make it appear timeless. Winnie owns a similar version done by the same artisan.

Here's a simple geometric shape, unadorned with a lovely satin sheen.

The restrained bamboo theme in an uncommon color attracted me to this particular pot in a room full of Yixing pots.

I also picked up some new porcelain

as well as some old porcelain.

Of course I brought back tea, plenty of tea..

Puer and roasted TiKwanYin

High mountain oolongs from Taiwan

I'm looking forward to the coming months with so much to learn and share.

Have a Happy New Year!

Hundred Year Tree - Young vs. Aged

2009-12-18T16:39:00.000-08:00

More and more of our friends have been asking about aged oolongs. Specifically aged teas from the WuYi Cliff regions. Why do we hold older teas in such high regard and what is the difference in taste between a recently harvested cliff tea and it's older version? What does one look for in an aged oolong? How many years is the best vintage? The questions go on and really the best way to answer is to have a tasting...

Of course, it helps to have a teamaster on hand but not necessary.

Michael decided to bring out some of the Hundred Year Tree he'd been aging since 2003 from storage. When sampling older vintages, it's a great idea to brew a recent harvest as well. In this case, the 2008. This gives you a way to compare the tea against itself and taste the differences between them. Another point for consistency was the fact that the 2003 has been under Michael's care since it was first harvested. This means we don't have to worry about improper storage and mystery origins that could also affect flavor. Both years are available on our website in a sampler pack so you can do your own tasting:
We used porcelain gaiwans and cups for both teas to keep the flavors clean and uninfluenced by yixing teapots.
The dried leaves of both the 2003 and 2008 were quite large and there wasn't any visible difference in size or color. It was the fragrance of those leaves that give off the first hint of change. The 2008 had the beautiful spiced aroma interlaced with delicate florals that we come to expect in WuYi oolongs. But the aroma almost seems like a starting point when compared to the 2003. A foundation that the 2003 takes and builds upon. There's more layers of some exotic spice and dried fall fruits. I smell a touch of cedar.
Michael measured out 6 grams of each on the scale.
The differences become more pronounced when Michael adds boiling water and rinses the leaves. The heat and water intensify the fragrance of both, now Winnie smells dates and a plummy sweetness in the 2003.
We know from experience that the younger tea will have the lighter body and flavor so we start with the 2008. With the 6 year difference between the two teas, there should be a notable difference in taste but also chaqi (cha-chi). What's best described as the energy of the tea. While flavors and aromas change and develop complexity as a tea matures, what connoisseurs really look forward to in aged tea is the qi. Drinkers often describe feelings of relaxation and physical warmth. From my own experience, I have felt a wide range of symptoms. Usually starting with a dampness in my normally dry hands, my core starts to get warm and yet my neck feels cooler. My shoulders relax, my face gets quite rosy and and I can feel a pleasant tingling running up and down my spine. Practitioners of Chinese Medicine will often recommend aged oolongs and puers to those with poor blood circulation like me. Especially in winter when their natural warming properties protect me from chills.

A strong chaqi exists in young teas as well if the leaves are harvested from centuries old tea trees. That's why a young tea like the 2008 can still have a physical effect on me. The taste is also delightful. The infusions are rich and sweet. There's a nice citrus note playing in the front of of the mouth. The first 3 cups have high floral notes that I taste and smell all at once. They fade slowly with subsequent steeps and reveal the mineral core of the Hundred Year Tree.

The color remains vibrant even after the 6th infusion. I drink the Hundred Year Tree often so the effect of it's chaqi aren't as intense as it used to be. But my usually cold hands are warm and damp. I feel relaxed but alert.
After the 6th cup, Michael refills the gaiwan and puts it aside for a long steep. It's now time for the 2003.

The changeis apparent even before the first sip. The color of the infusions is a deeper reddish orange. The heady aroma from the gaiwan reaches across the table to me. The taste is a bolder declaration of what a Hundred Year Tree can become. The floral notes of it's youth have been replaced with mature fruit and muskier overtones. While the 2008 had great texture and spread evenly across the front of the palate, 2003 broadens that reach. It hits the back corners of the mouth with a plummy sourness that turned mouth wateringly sweet. I taste a little aged tobacco note in the back of the throat.

By the 4th cup, the chaqi really starts to take over. I lose focus and my tasting notes past the 4th cup are a jumble of sentence fragments. We all lose track of the number of infusions. Everyone's elbows are on the table as our bodies relaxed and the spines loosen up. Michael gets a faraway look in his eyes and I slowly but surely lose sight of my earlier mission (something about a comparison tasting and keeping accurate notes). My brain refuses to hold on to facts and I just want to drift into the cloud of bliss floating above me. I don't even know where Winnie has gone to or when she even left the table.
Michael keeps brewing but now's its more for the pleasure of making tea than a lesson in aged oolong. As the winter night fills up our windows, the porcelain littering our tea table takes on a soft glow. He brings back the 2008 that's been left to steep this entire time. He decants the 7th infusion and pours some into my cup. It's a revelation, sharp and light. I'm brought back to the present having learned something after all.

Homecoming

2009-12-14T07:03:00.000-08:00

We're back from our trip, jet-lagged and mostly happy to be home. Found some great teas and we'll be posting our discoveries on our website in a few days. I've got a ton of photos to sort through and I can't wait to share my experiences with everyone. Taiwan was beautiful and Hong Kong felt like a second home.

Here's a few pics from our journey while I get back into the groove of things.
Our last morning in Taiwan, the view from my window.

The fresh, honest face of the Camellia Sinensis flower.

A tea tasting, one of many...

Enjoying some tea against the backdrop of the Hong Kong night.

Hong Kong egg tarts go great with tea.

Yet another tea tasting, this time some heavy roasted TiKwanYin.

And no trip would be complete without some beautiful antique teapots to admire.

More to come...

Greetings from Taiwan

2009-12-02T16:11:00.000-08:00

Yumcha here, blogging from Taroko. This is the first time I've had internet access since we crossed into the mountains of Taiwan. I'm losing battery power and my travel companions are impatient to get back on the road and go find some teas. It's been a great trip so far and I wish I could go into more details but my photos will have to do the talking for me since I have to keep moving...

Last Weekend

2009-11-13T14:02:00.000-08:00

This is the last weekend to purchase teas on our online store!
At least until we get back from China which isn't til the 14th of December. Once again, sorry for the inconvenience. Please get your orders in before Monday the16th, since it will be another month before you'll be able to order again. Visitors will still be able to navigate the site but unable to complete purchases.

Meanwhile, we're still working out our travel plans. The tea fields of Taiwan are on the itinerary! Also, hoping to visit a hot spring or two while we're there.

Travel Plans

2009-11-06T14:31:00.001-08:00

Hello beautiful tea people!
Just a little bit of news for our internet friends: The Tea Gallery TEAm will be heading to Hong Kong in a couple weeks. We're all terribly excited and impatient to leave the cold weather behind us. But we have some days to go before our plane takes off. Our travel plans are still being worked on and I'll post any new details I get.

Unfortunately, this means that out little online shop will not be running from Nov. 18th to Dec. 12 since we have no one to handle the orders and shipping for us. So please order before that date so you're not left without tea while we're away. To make it up to you, we promise to share our findings and update our site with new tea finds as quickly as possible. I know it's unusual to close down an online store for any amount of time but we really don't think we can let anyone else handle the daily affairs of our little gallery. Our apologies for the inconvenience this may cause to our good friends and patrons. (Visitors will still be able to navigate the site but unable to complete purchases.)

I, Yumcha, also promise to update this blog with notes and photos of our travels.

Vintage Tea Set

2009-10-22T14:22:00.000-07:00

I think the porcelain gods were with me last weekend. While poking around one of those "stuffed to rafters" vintage shops in upstate NY, this relatively pristine tea set was found in the back next to some Bakelite bracelets and a couple of tarnished tins. For an astonishingly small sum (I tried to hide my giddiness in front of the proprietor) I was able to take a little bit of history home.

I don't have Michael's eye when it comes to dating old teaware but I had no problem figuring out the age when I turned the pieces over:

While a "Made in OCCUPIED Japan" stamp is pretty obnoxious reminder of a terrible time with bad memories for many, it's useful as a "time stamp" that tells me the items were made between 1945 - 1952. Right after WWII, during the several years Japan was under US control.

Made for export, the tea set seems to be going through a little identity crisis. The teapot's round shape and spout has a Western feel but then it's paired with the traditional bamboo handle. I find it beautiful, right down to it's rusted metal hooks.

It's well made with nice thin walls, there's even a built in strainer for the loose tea leaves.

I was more attracted to the covered cups than the teapot. There were only two that were found but the set may have originally come with more. Still, I was pretty pleased to find both with their lids and only some minor damage to the rims.

The artwork is simple on both cups and teapot. The painting of the horse is a little on the cartoonish side but I find a childish grace to the effort. The lids on the cups is slightly larger than the one for the teapot. The cup itself has a nice flare to the rim and it rests perfectly against my bottom lip. The striped foot adds elegance to the wide body and from above the teacup seems to float above the table.

I hope this has encouraged you to go and look for your own lucky finds. Maybe we'll cross paths at the next flea market...

A "Classic" Afternoon

2009-09-17T14:11:00.000-07:00

Yesterday gave us our first chilly preview of fall. It was a good opportunity to make ourselves some heavily roasted oolong and stay warm. We decided on our Classic Roast Iron Bodhisattva. We've received a lot of questions about this tea and it's about time I did a post about our most popular oolong. Most were about brewing methods and water temperature. I'll try to include information that answers the most common questions we get.
While this is the tea that Michael uses for his ChiuJoa GongFu Cha, it's flavorful enough to withstand even a western style brewing method with little leaf, lots of water and longer steeping time. Michael is away for the week, so Winnie decided to brew in the basic GongFu style that anyone can do.
Right now, we're drinking and selling the 2009 Spring Harvest. Because of the heavy roasting, this oolong has a very long shelf life so long as it is stored in an airtight container, away from light and heat. Michael will usually reserve some of the harvest for himself so he can age the tea for later enjoyment. Aging is possible due to the high firing process the leaves go through. The heat stabilizes the tea oils and compounds. Once it's been stored for a few years, the roasted character mellows and the flavors become more complex. It's a softer taste with fewer floral notes but a more mature profile. Also, the cha-qi will strengthen over time and drinking a ten year aged TiKwanYin has had me blissed out and dreamy.

Now we that we have the tea, we need a teapot:

This Yixing clay pot is from the seventies. It can hold about 2oz - 60cc of liquid. It's TINY. It fits perfectly in my hand and I have small hands. Pots of this style are well crafted and beautiful to look at but the thin walls can crack if exposed to to extreme temperature change. This is rare but when you have something this nice , why take chances?
Take the time to start with very warm water (120 degrees), fill the teapot and make sure the outer walls are thoroughly soaked. Empty the teapot and repeat once more with hot water (175 degrees). After the teapot has been emptied again, you can proceed to use boiling water to heat up the pot before adding the tea leaves.

Once the teapot is heated through and emptied, Winnie pours in the tea. She doesn't stop until the pot is three quarters full. With so much tea, infusions are going to be very short to prevent bitterness and oversteeping. The first several steeps will be poured out almost as quickly as the water was poured in.

Hot water is poured first along the outer rim and circles it's way into the pot. Winnie pours it out as soon as she's put down the kettle and replaced the lid. This is the tea rinse and is reserved in the fairness pitcher.

We can't all have Winnie's delicate bone structure. But there are ways of moving and serving tea that create a graceful atmosphere. Every person who's ever made tea for me has their own "style" that comes through.

The rinse is poured back over the outside of the teapot. Winnie calls it "feeding the pot". The Yixing clay develops a rich patina from years of soaking up the tea. Most of our readers know this but I think it's important enough to mention again. Some people still toss out the rinse not believing it's good for anything. Bathing your teapot with the rinse is an important part of maintaining and properly aging the teapot.

Another good shot of Winnie's hand position as she pours out the tea. Her fingers are curled around the handle, mimicking the curves of the teapot and creating a nice rhythm. In my lessons with Michael in the traditional ChiuJao GongFu Cha method, I was made aware of how my pinky finger would often stick straight out and apart from the rest of my hand while I brewed tea. A little thing but one that betrayed tension in my movements and exposed my
inexperience. It seems like a minor detail most people wouldn't notice but your guests may pick up a sense of discomfort at a subconscious level. Afterward, they may wonder why they didn't feel entirely relaxed during the tea session. Keep your movements small and fluid. Notice your fingers, wrists, elbows and shoulders. Keep your back straight but not rigid
Maybe you don't care about appearance so long as you can make a good cup of tea. Or maybe, one day, you will make tea for a master... and they will notice everything.

Because there is so much leaf packed into the pot, it's important to give the teapot time to let as much of the infusion drain out. Find an appropriate fairness pitcher or porcelain cup to rest the teapot against. The circumference of the opening should be small enough to keep the lid secure against the pot. While the water navigates the labyrinth of twisted leaf to pour out of the spout, the tea's finish should be perfuming the mouth and tasting sweeter on the tongue.

The first couple of steeps gives us an autumn hue. I think of sunsets when I see this color. Subsequent steeps get richer and darker as we move to heart of the tea.

As Winnie brews, the leaves expand and start to push out of the pot. There's just enough tea to fill two little cups.

The afternoon wore on, and each infusion took a little longer than the last to brew. Finally, Winnie upended the pot one last time that day. There was a little light left in the sky and Winnie fancied a walk in the crisp air.

I hope this has answered some questions, although maybe I'll have created more. Either way, it's always great to hear from other tea people and I'll do my best to respond to any comments left on this post.

Rain and Phoenix

2009-08-28T15:32:00.000-07:00

I do love a flared rim on a porcelain cup. Filled to the top, the edges of the tea lighten and disappear into the porcelain's glaze. There is no demarcation of tea and vessel, just softness and a beautiful blurring of elements. I take a sip and the world seems to lose its hard edges. Rain on a weekday afternoon also gives me that same fuzzy feeling. Sheets of water slap against the windows and the city skyline fades into the clouds. It's dark and cozy and I happily abandon the computer and join Winnie at the tea table.

She's brewing the Phoenix oolong, a tea that loves the wet weather. Hard to explain, maybe it's the humidity or the change in atmospheric pressure... whatever it is, a rainy day just seems to bring out the best in teas, especially teas from Phoenix Mt. My mouth starts to water as she scoops out the dark, slender leaves. I can already taste the notes of peach and wild almonds. I know the aroma will not disappear and instead wait for me at the bottom of my cup

The afternoon seems even more special as Winnie pulls out her cherished Yixing teapot for Phoenix tea. Since the move, so much of what used to be on display has been carefully packed and shelved to keep our new, smaller space organized and clutter-free.
It's been months since I've seen this beautiful teapot:

Understandably, Winnie stopped using her phoenix pot at tea gatherings as she hated to disappoint everyone who wanted to purchase it from her. It's not for sale but I can see the desire to add this beauty to one's collection. Even without the hand-painted artwork, the teapot is a well balanced Yixing ware with a classic shape. The dark purple clay feels supple to the touch and darkens considerably once it's fed water and tea.

More like a kingfisher than a phoenix, the bird theme is fitting for the Phoenix oolong without having to be too literal. The delicate colors and expressive line work is a lively contrast to the dark clay. Bold and sweet at the same time. There's skill in decorating teapots with this much color and keeping it all in the realm of good taste. Sadly, teapots of this caliber are much harder to come by in this day and age. No wonder everyone wants Winnie's.

Even in Winnie's dainty hands, her teapot looks tiny. In fact, I've never seen Michael use this teapot.I don't know that it would look right. It's not about the size, Michael's used smaller teapots for his ChiuJao GongFu Cha. I really think this is about the matching the teapot to the appropriate personality. There's a feminine beauty to Phoenix pot that seems to come alive with Winnie's graceful movements.

If there's a ever a reason to choose fine, porcelain for your tea, this is it. To see the effect of the light as it tumbles about in the cup, transforming tea into a glimmering treasure. And perhaps it was all in my mind, but the Phoenix seemed to taste richer for the company, the rain, the clay and the porcelain. A sweet, floral fragrance hovered over the table. I tasted hints of lychee and a rich, mellow honey that lingered after the fruitiness evaporated off the palate. A touch of astringence led to a cooling finish. Even as the rain let up and I shuffled back to my work, I could still taste the ghost of the tea getting sweeter and sweeter.

have tea, will travel

2009-07-16T13:01:00.001-07:00

Just got back from my summer vacation up in Lake Placid. I spent a wonderful, isolated week and a half at a friend's cabin on one of the islands in the middle of the lake. The rule had been to "pack light" since I was sharing a small car and limited trunk space with three others. The last leg of the trip ended in a tiny motor boat (with a maximum capacity of 5 people or 4 with luggage) ride across the lake to the cabin. Packing only the essentials, I had to leave all of my tea equipment behind. I spent the days sunning, swimming, making s'mores in a century old fireplace, and hiking Whiteface Mountain with friends. I also spent a lot of the time craving tea and wishing I had risked even a small gaiwan and some cups. I regretted not hijacking Michael's personal tea kit for traveling.

During my vacation, my thoughts often drifted towards that elegant, two-layer Ching dynasty basket containing the necessary basics for Gong Fu Cha outside the tearoom. Tall and slender, I could have easily shared my car seat with it. I'm posting some photos I took of the tea basket during a cultural event we participated in before I left. Now maybe I won't be the only one fantasizing about this beautiful antique turned tea kit during summer vacation.

This basket of brown laquered bamboo and cane dates back to the 1880's and was used primarily to transport food. A thin strip of metal sits over the lid, between the handles and is locked in place with a key. A nice solution to keep the contents from falling out if the basket is tipped over. When the cover is removed, a shallow tray sits above the first layer. This is where Michael keeps tea utensils and a strainer, folded into his tea towels.

I have to admire Michael's showmanship. Usually during an event, a crowd gathers to watch what he pulls from the basket. The setup becomes just as interesting as the actual tea ceremony. I can't think of a more stylish way to announce one's tea addiction while far from home. The first compartment has enough room for a small porcelain tea tray, a tea boat, a gaiwan wrapped in it's silk purse, some shallow dishes to displaying dried tea leaf, several tea samples, a funnel for the teapot and a rolled up mat to that goes under the tea tray.
The bottom layer holds some more tea towels ( they do double duty of protecting porcelains from knocking into each other during transport). A waste bowl cradles a wrapped teapot. There's also a fairness pitcher, some wooden tea coasters, teacups and even a shallow vessel for rinsing teacups.

Almost ready for tea...

I hope you can agree, it's a pretty nice setup for tea on the road. All one needs is a pure water source and a kettle. A teamaster on the premises would be nice too but not necessary. Maybe next time, I'll have the pleasure of a holiday with the comforts of tea .

Brewing Sencha

2009-07-03T12:48:00.000-07:00

This week, Winnie and I want to answer your questions about brewing techniques for Japanese Sencha. There is more than one appropriate way to brew and I'm sure some will disagree with the information in this post. There's lots of instruction available online but we just wanted to share some of the tips we've picked up from other tea masters. We also encourage every one to experiment and decide what works best for their own preferences.

The heated water is first poured into a cooling vessel.
Water temperature is judged in stages and this is the first part. The rising steam is beautiful to look at as it curls and dances away from the water. But it also tells us the temperature is too hot to start brewing. Usually, the water is then poured into the empty teapot to warm up the clay and then returned to the cooling pitcher. This helps to dissipate some of the water's excess heat. Many people brew sencha at 175-185 degrees Fahrenheit but I feel that cooks the delicate, fresh leaves. Then you end up with broth, not tea. Lower is always better for me and I usually wait til the water temp. is at least 140 -150 degrees (F). A basic rule for green tea is "to brew longer, not hotter". Brewing with lukewarm or room temperature water is a different matter entirely.

The Asatsuyu sencha is poured into the heated teapot. The warmed tea leaves give off a soft and savory aroma.

So the tea leaves are ready and we want to double check the heat of the water. We often run the cooled water very quickly over our fingertips to help us gauge the heat level and calculate how long the brewing time will be. Sane people use a thermometer. Let me just add, we are NOT pouring scalding water over our skin. The water is already cooled a bit and we are using the sensitivity of our fingertips to judge if it's ready to brew tea. It should feel like dipping a toe into a fresh hot bath. Almost too hot to bear but endurable. You know what... just get a thermometer. I do not want to receive emails from people with scalded body parts.

I think the terracotta color of the tokoname ceramics complements the emerald green of the tea. The water is now poured over the leaves and the lid is placed on the pot. It's only a matter of seconds before the first brew is ready for us.

Now it's time to serve the tea. Some pour the tea into the cooling vessel and serve from there. But is also acceptable to pour directly into the cups, provided that each cup only receives a little at a time as illustrated. The timing is important for this part. Especially for the first brew, the initial pour looks more like water but by the time you've emptied the teapot, each teacup holds a beautiful shade of green.
While you are serving tea in this manner, the start and stop effect keeps the tea leaves in constant motion. The idea is not to agitate the leaves but to gently swirl them around and keep them suspended in the water. This prevents the smallest particles that get bitter very quickly from settling at the bottom of the pot. Instead, they usually pass through the teapot's strainer into the cup. You can strain out the particles if you wish but we like the depth of flavor and texture they add.

I know it's far easier to show a brewing technique rather than explain the process in words. So I did a quick and terribly executed video of Winnie brewing sencha. The quality's just so-so (used the new IPhone video tool) and the lighting is worse but I figure it saves me some words. Also, I hope this answers some of the other aspects I did not really address. This video is a first for us and a spur of the moment thing. So please don't judge too harshly.
I should mention that Michael was not around when I did this. Otherwise, there would be proper lighting, stable camera work and it would be a million times better. In fact, I know he's going to cringe when he sees this. Fortunately for me, my vacation starts tomorrow and I can deal with it when I get back.
Happy Independence Day.

A farewell.. of sorts

2009-06-04T12:59:00.000-07:00

There are a lot of reasons why a store closes it's doors for good. Ours was one of the most straightforward: our lease was up and the landlord wanted to double our rent. We did the math, factored in a lousy economy, the large number of available storefronts that weren't charging exorbitant rents and knew it was time for a change. What that change meant was a little harder to grasp and the questions about the Gallery's future didn't come with immediate answers. A move was imminent but finding and preparing a new space would take time.
Fortunately, the teas and accessories are available through the website and Michael and Winnie set up a temporary space to host tea-tastings for the summer. Work continues for us and we're excited about upcoming plans. Not having a retail space to anchor them to the city, talk of travel is in the air. I'm giddy about the future but my mood is bittersweet. It feels like leaving a home I grew up in and I wanted to share one last look...

Michael's still packing up the antiques and furniture. Some of it's being used at the temporary space we're working out of. But a number of pieces are destined for storage.
I did offer to help with the packing but I could see the movie reel in Michael's head playing back my clumsier moments from the past. And there have been a lot. If I wasn't dropping gaiwans and knocking over his camera equipment, I was doing a good job of smashing my own body parts against table corners and tripping over chair legs. So it didn't come as a surprise when Michael suggested I take that time to do anything else but help him. He would call me if they needed someone to prop open doors while they moved the heavy furniture. I couldn't argue, I was too busy doubled over from the pain of slamming my knee into a chair corner.

I will miss walking through the moon gate. I'm sad we couldn't take that with us. It helped separate the world of loud, ugly street traffic from the peaceful devotion to tea. People always lost track off time while having tea with us and I credit Michael and Winnie's interior design.

While Michael preferred to make tea in the back of the store, so many Saturdays found me at the original tea table waiting for the day's appointments. I loved the quiet moments while I heated up the kettle and rinsed out teacups before our clients arrived. The table is with us in the new space and it's a comfort to take a break from work and ask Winnie to brew a cup of tea. We still sit together and sample the new harvests coming in. It's been a relief to know somethings do not change.

One thing I'm sure about, there is still a Tea Gallery. We're enjoying our tea and you're welcome to join us.

Tea with Masters

2009-03-14T13:55:00.001-07:00

A very special tasting at the Gallery this past weekend with our friend and patron, YoungJai; her lovely daughter, Helen and her former tea master from the Urasenke Center, Terazono Sensei.

Michael started with a 2008 BingDou puer cake and then a WuYi Cliff Cinnamon. The conversation became light and lively as we put away several rounds of tea. "This is great", Mr. Terazono joked, "I can relax while someone else makes tea... Very good tea"
As he bantered and sipped tea, he observed Michael closely and commented on the gracefulness of Michael's movements, "This is something tea masters share regardless of culture." Fluid, unhurried motions that bring a sense of ease and harmony to your guests. Michael decided to perform his ChiuJia GongFu Cha ritual for Mr. Terazono
Much was said on the similarities between the two tea forms represented at this tasting.

After the last sip of Michael's GongFu Cha, YoungJai said, "I believe Terazono Sensei would like to make matcha for everyone... " This was met with a burst of excitement and Michael insisted on giving his seat to Terazono Sensei. As he removed his tea implements out of the bag, he warned, "This is very informal but I can show you the mechanics of making the tea. For the true experience, you must come to one of my classes " We started with KoiCha, the thick grade matcha. Terazono Sensei quickly sifted the KoiCha powder.

As he prepared the whisk and teabowl, he discussed the basics of brewing matcha. He scooped a few grams of the emerald green powder into the bowl and poured in some hot water. As he whisked the tea, he discussed the texture and thickness he was looking for. The end result had consistency similar to eggnog or pancake batter. The taste was sweet and slightly vegetal, rich and mouthwatering.A sumptuous mouth-feel with a spike of energy at the finish.

Drinking etiquette was discussed, as well as the proper way to hold and pass the bowl.
A white tea napkin was passed around to wipe the edge of the bowl where each person had sipped.
When the bowl was returned to Terazono Sensei, he said, "Now, maybe Michael should try and make matcha."

The teacher is also the student.. Michael gets some pointers on whisking matcha.

It was interesting to see the two masters standing together. One getting a lesson from the other. Michael's unruly hair and his disheveled "James Dean" look was in stark contrast to Terazono Sensei's neat and studious appearance. There was also a difference of culture and generation but none of it mattered while tea was the subject.

Enjoying a good lesson.

Someone finally consulted a timepiece and we were surprised to know that more than 4 hours had passed while we shared tea and knowledge. Time had flown by in the tea oasis we had created and it was coming to an end. We thanked our guests for the company and the lessons. There was no farewell, instead a promise to visit the world of Terazono Sensei very soon.

A Week of Sencha

2009-02-13T14:16:00.000-08:00

Grey winter days and the low energy that came with it were starting affect the attitude at the Gallery. Hoping a little spring fashion would help us through the bleak weather, we hit an exclusive sample sale before work. After dismal pickings and a mediocre lunch, Winnie and I headed to the Gallery in defeat. At least we could have tea. "We need something to go with tea," Winnie announced. We found some brightly frosted "Spring Cupcakes" at Pinisi Cafe, a few blocks away and I felt the dark clouds lift just a little.
At the Gallery, Michael said, "Our samples and the new teapots just arrived." Samples of single bush senchas and small tononame teapots. Things were starting look up.
Toki of the The Mandarin's Tea dropped by and the atmosphere was feeling festive.

A pairing of new tokoname with a 1950's Japanese covered tea bowl.

We spent the day, exploring the sweet, velvety world of Japanese senchas. From single bush offerings (some that tasted like a gyokuro) to three bush blends. We played with different brewing methods to see if we could raise the umami factor and play up the sweetness.

This little teapot is probably what started it all.
A Yixing teapot produced for the Japanese market during the late 60's. I found it while rummaging through one of many teapot laden cabinets at the Gallery. Of course, I had to know how a Japanese tea would taste in a Yixing vessel. Now that we had our samples, and I had spent the better part of the week cleaning out the old teapot, it was time to play.

I used a single bush sencha from the Saemidori. The pot heated up beautifully and the aroma from the warmed tea leaves made my mouth water. It took a little more wrist dexterity when it came time to pour, the broken leaves kept clogging up the small Chinese style strainer holes. The liquor was rich and expansive on the palate. Aside, from the tricky pouring, the clay itself added a little softness to the overall flavor and texture.
We spent the rest of the week playing with and tasting senchas, taking copious notes and finding favorites. The weather's still awful and grey but there's some spring green in my cup and bright days ahead.

Life is sweet...

Burn Victim

2009-01-14T21:24:00.000-08:00

A cold winter, an extended vacation... but I'm back now.
It's lovely to return to The Tea Gallery when I've been away for any length of time. It's even nicer to see patrons returning from holiday adventures to share a cup of tea. Kai dropped by on a very busy Friday but I unglued myself from the computer, eager to see what he had brought with him. He unwrapped a small Yixing teapot and lightly said, "Tell me what you think."

The color was beautiful. The right shade of "purple" that can add more value to a teapot. Knowing Kai, it was at least a hundred years old and probably more. It was small and fit easily in my hand. The lid was nearly the same width as the pot, unusual to see such a large opening.

The characters inscribed on the lid's handle said Han (Dynasty) Tile because it was shaped after the style of the roof tiles from that period. A gentle curve that left a sliver of space between lid and handle and not much to grip. The clay felt smooth beneath my fingers until I came across a little bump. What's this? A blemish on an otherwise lustrous surface. "How did this bump get here?"
"Look inside", said Kai, "You'll get your answer..."

I gasped when I saw the blistered interior and Kai laughed at my surprise. What could have caused the surface of the clay to form those bubbles? I pressed on the raised welts as if I could smooth them out, it was hardened of course. Winnie had a similar response when I passed the pot to her. Kai finally explained, "Sometimes this happens to teapots that have been fired in a Dragon Kiln. If the heat is improperly controlled, especially in the hottest part of the kiln, the clay gets damaged in this way." It looked like a burn victim because it was in a way.

I wondered if it affected the flavor of tea in any way. Kai didn't know because the pot didn't pour very well so he had never used it for tea. "But it's a nice teapot and it still has something to teach", he said. I could agree with that.

Kai couldn't tell me much about the stamp on the bottom. He guessed it was the name of a teashop that had commissioned the production of this teapot.

After I had finished taking photos, Kai wrapped up his pot and had one last cup of tea before he ventured back into the cold and his work. I stared at the photos on my computer, admiring the color of Kai's teapot, grateful for the lesson and happy to be back at The Tea Gallery.

A season of Aloeswood

2008-11-11T11:14:00.000-08:00

Tea isn't the only thing Michael's been brewing these past few months. He partnered with Toki of The Mandarin's Tea Room in a little side project. Lately their interest had been in the rare and rarified Aloeswood. The resinous heart of an evergreen tree that's found in parts of Southeast Asia and cherished for it's intense fragrance. One that conjures up exotic forests, spice markets and perfume soaked nights. What makes aloeswood different from other naturally scented woods? The tree must first become infected with a fungal parasite, then it exudes a dark resin as part of it's defense against the fungus. This rare but natural process has to occur for the tree to become the fragrant Aloeswood.
But why were we brewing it at The Tea Gallery?
Most often used in incense and perfume, Toki thought the wood's fragrance might enhance a basket of liubao tea if stored and aged together. Winnie noted a flavor and scent in certain aged teas that reminded her of Aloeswood. The more it was discussed, the more associations between tea and tree were discovered. Also, making a tisane of Aloeswood wasn't uncommon. We just had to try it oursleves.

This tiny splinter of Aloeswood was all that was needed to fill four gongfu cups with the most incredibly scented water. There were layers of fragrant wood and warm spices wrapped in sweetness. I was reminded at once of sandalwood, cedar, cinnamon, clove, ginger, allspice and none of the above. There was something familiar and yet an alien profile was now altering my tastebuds and pulling up random recollections in an effort to fit itself into my sensory banks.
While Michael steeped the precious splinter many times that afternoon, the fragrance did not dampen. It was obvious we would have to stop before the Aloeswood did. When I asked Toki if this was normal, he replied, "Not all Aloeswoods are equal." Many believe that the best specimens were harvested to extinction decades ago. The wood that may have scented the perfume or incense of a Ching Dynasty aristocrat may have been far more powerful than the modern grades available now. Many trees are deliberately infected to meet the demand but these are considered an inferior grade to the wild Aloeswood. You can find Aloeswood to brew but the strength and complexity will be determined by the grade and age.

While the alluring perfume danced on our palates, Michael decided to give our other senses something to indulge in.

An Aloeswood carving of a boy sitting atop a bull and his companion on foot.
About 6 inches tall and possibly early Ching Dynasty. I'm always impressed when Michael produces the appropriate antique for a tea gathering; it's like bringing the perfect dessert to a party only much cooler.

Amazingly, there was still a fragrance but one that had mingled with dusty storage rooms.

Although the figures lack finesse, there's a beautiful rythm and fluid movement to the overall piece. The gold accents glow softly against the dark wood. Expressive poses and swirling branches brings this carving life.

At the foot of the carving are two wooden peg inserts. This was once attached to something much larger and we can only guess at what it was. Part of a greater artwork or something more utilitarian? If so, was the rest of the piece also made from the precious Aloeswood? Having been passed through several owners before it reached Michael, it's history has been pretty much lost to us.
I asked Michael the age of the carving and he would only say a few hundred years, give or take. When I pestered him for more information, he pointed to the shelves of antique catalogues and books and wished me luck on my research. I'm still searching...

Sometimes it's the other things you learn that bring you back to tea.
Months later we are still sipping water steeped with a little splinter.

Song Dynasty Teaware

2008-10-29T12:49:00.000-07:00

I was having an accident free week and Michael deemed it safe enough to pull out some pieces from his collection of Song Dynasty ceramics for my education. Michael uses words with great economy and he prefers to teach by showing. He did turn down my offers to help him carry the antiques to the table and suggested I stand perfectly still until everything had been safely settled.

A scattering of stars against a deep ebony glaze. The beauty of this tea bowl lies in it's deceptive simplicity. A sophisticated expression of muted form and minimal color that characterizes many Song ceramics. Pieces like these are understated and easily overlooked by untrained eyes. The bowl fit perfectly to the curve of my hand. The surface was cool and inviting to touch and I marveled at the natural and seemingly effortless styling.

The rich glaze is allowed to pool, thick and luxurious towards the base.
The naked foot adds a lovely and thoughtful contrast.

Tea bowl next to a tea or wine cup.

These might be the smallest cups from the Song Dynasty I've ever seen.These cups are very dear to Winnie's heart and still in use. If you catch her in the right circumstance, you may be lucky enough to sip tea from them one day. Now if only there were a tea old enough...

This pale beauty is a cup with connected saucer. Michael and Winnie wanted to show me these early influences that shaped the modern gaiwan. Since we rarely use the saucers that come with most gaiwans (except for display), it was interesting to see how long cups have been married to saucers and even fused into a single piece. Cups and stands were also made into separate components.

How to drink out of one these works of art? One hand grasps the saucer and carries the cup toward the mouth. The other hand screens the tilted cup and bottom half of the face while you drink.

With almost modern looking silhouettes and beautiful finishes, these works seem to exist out of time.

My communion with the past was at an end and Michael carefully put the ceramics back, away from harm's reach. Seeing the despondent look on my face, he said, "Cheer up. There's still so much more you have to see."

Like Water for Tea

2008-10-15T10:53:00.000-07:00

I think for as long as Michael has been studying tea, he's also been learning about water. Whether it's a new understanding or rediscovering an old tradition, he wants to know the how and why of water. He's played with many types water from springs, wells, melted glaciers and so on. At the Gallery we boil our water with mineral rocks from Mongolia in our kettles to add fullness and and a soft, silky texture. In China, it is traditional to soak these types of stones in water for drinking and cooking purposes. Although the why was not clear, the result was a better tasting water and tea that kept people healthy. Our clients also enjoy using the stones but we could never explain why these rocks worked the way they do. To help shed some light on this, Scott, a close friend and patron of the Gallery, had our rocks examined by a mineral expert and discovered some interesting results.

There was a surprising amount of water soluble potassium. And though the expert couldn't test for exact amounts of silica, he was certain the rocks contained a large amount. To explain what the effect these minerals might have when dissolved in water, Scott also sent a link to an article on the nuances of drinking water. Most enlightening was this description: "Potassium, for example, may give water a sweet taste. Silica may impart silkiness. Calcium can give the water a lactic taste some people find refreshing. Others enjoy the cleansing quality of water with a high sodium content."

There's something else the rocks impart: A pleasant clinking sound from the kettle as they get jostled by the boiling water. The gentle ring of stone bumping up against the glass is incredibly soothing.

What else can affect the taste of water? Here at the Gallery, Michael is still experimenting with water. Sometimes he starts with spring water or filters his own and stores it in this late Ming to early Ching Dynasty water jar for a few days before using it to brew tea.

The result of many blind taste tests with the unwitting participation of shop visitors had everyone preferring the flavor of the water from the antique water jar. "Sweeter and softer" was the most common response. We still don't know why a 200 year old, glazed porcelain pot would have such an effect on water. The same water did not have that sweet fullness when we used other contemporary porcelain vessels.
Of course not everyone can haul out a Ching Dynasty water jar to store water for tea but I hope others will experiment on their own local or imported waters with different materials and share their results.

As for Michael and friends, the experiments continue...

Ching Dynasty Pewter Teapot

2008-10-08T16:44:00.000-07:00

Kai dropped by last week with another unusual teapot from his collection. I had mentioned an interest in pewter clad Yixing teapots during an earlier visit and he was kind enough to bring his own and satisfy my curiosity. Another Ching Dynasty teapot from the 1850's. Kai confided that pewter clad teapots were not a style he particularly admired. But he did appreciate the historic value and craftsmanship of this one. It's in great condition except for some damage to the all pewter lid. And no, I am not responsible for the dent.

The shape of the teapot mimics a common good luck symbol, one that is often seen in jade jewelry. I asked what the inscription meant but there was trouble deciphering some of the characters and I hope maybe a reader of this post could illuminate me.

A common embellishment seen in pewter teapots are spouts and handles carved from jade (nephrite). I think it's a beautiful touch, the pale stone lightens up the metal composition and gives elegance to plain pewter. Kai was quick to point out the jade was of moderate quality and added little to the monetary value of the pot.
From certain angles the clean, sharp lines gave this teapot a modern silhouette.

I found the artist's stamp inside the teapot.

I'm grateful to Kai for sharing his collection and knowledge with me. I look forward to his visits and a chance to sit by his side while he talks about his appreciation for Yixing teapots and the joys of collecting. I know it's inspired my own passion for these teapots and opened my eyes to the many beautiful styles.

Saturday at the Tea Gallery pt.2

2008-09-25T15:15:00.001-07:00

The continuation of Toki's visit with Betty and Conrad...We started Saturday's tea session with a 1970's loose, supposedly "cooked" puer from Conrad's collection. Conrad was very modest about his knowledge of tea and he had little to say about his collection, only hoping we would enjoy the experience.

Michael weighed out 10 grams of the puer.
There was a light, woody fragance with a hint of must and old parchment.

Once the leaves were heated in Michael's puer pot, their warm aroma was as inviting as a traditional Korean herb sauna.

My first sip was sweet, delicate and silky. There was a refinement and a velvety finish that's hard to come by in shupu's, even aged ones.

By the 2nd cup, I was taken over by an immediate sense of calm and felt more relaxed than I had in days. "So smooth", Toki said, "It's like air."

As we continued to drink and admire the color of the tea, we wondered if the puer was possibly a blend of raw and cooked leaves. So delightful with an elegant body, Toki didn't believe the puer was cooked at all.

Betty started describing the wonderful effects of the tea.

Although the conversation never got serious, there was a more contemplative aura surrounding the table. We were all surrendering to the chaqi. My normally dry palms were moist with sweat and I felt an incredible warmth emanating from the seat of my spine. The 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th cups were consistently smooth with a lovely phantom coating of a fat. There was a sweetness that flooded the back corners of my mouth and I tasted more sugar every time I swallowed. By the 7th cup I was feeling drunk with tea and qi. My own tasting notes are indecipherable after this point. General consensus was that Conrad's puer was actually not cooked at all.

Knowing Betty and Conrad had other engagements that afternoon, we moved on to another tea:
A raw puer cake of unknown origin, possibly from the 80's.

Michael separated 10 grams of mystery cake to brew in a vintage gaiwan.

Winnie, taking a deep inhalation of the rinsed tea leaves.
I could smell the awakening fragrance of flowers, dried fruit and perfume from the other side of the table. There was a sweetly old fashioned note of vintage cosmetics (what Toki refers to as granny face powder). It's an aroma that inspires a sense of happiness and romantic fancies.

Still blissed out from the previous puer, I was happy to watch Michael brew tea so effortlessly. Even taking photos seemed to be taxing my brain.

The first cup was a mouthful of sweetness and perfume with a bit of wild musk. The 2nd cup yielded a pleasant astringence that balanced the sweet. A bouquet of flowers clung to the bottom of the cup. Subsequent steeps built up layers of vanilla, musk and gardenias on my palate. After the beautiful lull of the previous puer, we were starting to wake up with this tea's chaqi. It was an interesting contrast. Conversation became lively and and more animated. Everyone started sitting up straighter in their chairs. The tea also woke up our appetites and I found myself longing for the uneaten half of my breakfast croissant.

As we drank, the taste got softer and rounder but still that beautiful perfume persisted.
By the 7th and last cup we were left with a delicate rose petal finish.
Betty and Conrad had to leave soon after and the rest of us were left to contemplate our beautiful tea experience and lunch options.

Ching Dynasty Tea Brick - Saturday at the Gallery pt.1

2008-09-23T12:10:00.001-07:00

Last Saturday morning I was staring into the calm visage of this Tang Dynasty Bodhisattva at the Gallery while waiting for our guests to arrive. I don't always work at the Gallery on weekends but Toki of The Mandarin's Tea blog was coming over with friends and Michael recommended I show up. He said, "They're bringing something special and it's important that you see this." I asked Michael what I would be looking at... "A bit of history", he said with a wry smile. And so I started my weekend at work but not working. Staring into the depths of Bodhisattva until the doorbell rang.

Toki's "Auntie" Betty and "Uncle" Conrad came first and I liked the gracious couple almost immediately. Betty was bright and vivaciously pretty. I could see Conrad with his deferential gestures and handsome features at home in a classic cigar club. They had brought over a few exclusive teas from Conrad's collection including a 1970's cooked loose puer, a puer formula cake of unkown date and origin, both of which we brewed when Toki arrived.

But the real treat they had brought along was Conrad's Ching Dynasty tea brick that had been reviewed in Toki's blogpost: Vincero!. This is the same tea that Toki gave to Michael after a week and Michael continued to brew it for over a month almost every day. Now to bring that experience full circle, I was allowed to take photos of this legendary brick and share the beginning while Toki bid farewell to the brewed leaves in his recent post: Sharing a thought...

It was such a wonderful opportunity to finally get a chance to see and handle such an old tea brick. It looked and felt more like a piece of quarried stone than a brick of tea.

A brief origin story:
This tea brick was passed down to Conrad from his mother almost 30 years ago. It had belonged to his grandmother for most of her life before she bequeathed it to her daughter, Conrad's mother.
The tea was over a hundred years old when it finally passed into his possession. Conrad, himself could not elaborate more than that but it was impressive to know three generations of his family had cared for this precious heirloom.

Winne and I wrote down the brick's dimensions:
6 1/2 in. Long
4 1/2 in. Wide
1 in. Thick
Weight - 566 g (Toki wrote 600g in his post)
Considering the length of time it's been around and the amount of moisture it's lost, this brick may have weighed up to 700 grams when it was first pressed.

Notice the little white spots on the surface. I thought they might be mold spores. But a closer inspection revealed a crystalline structure. Winnie said they were sugar crystals from the leaf. I've only seen that on the outside of naturally dried persimmons and I have to wonder how long it must take to start seeing sugar crystals on a pressed tea cake.

This brick was so compact we could see the saw marks from previous tea brewing occasions. Betty said they also used a hammer to loosen the corner piece when they last brewed tea from this brick.

The light colored spots are probably cross sections of the tea stems.

A close look at the surface shows a lovely patina from the age and the tea oil. Because of that, there were subtle color variations when the brick was moved around beneath the light. Sometimes it took on a dark iron colored hue with bluish tints or it picked up coppery accents against a deep mahagony.

Michael with his oyster shucker turned puer knife, looking for a suitable entry point. I had never seen him more careful but I understood. There was a danger of splitting off more than he wanted or leaving cracks in the brick.

I held my breath when the knife went in but there was no need. Michael's a pro and he got exactly what he wanted:

3 grams of Ching Dynasty tea.

The biggest surprise was the delicate fragrance emanating from the leaves Michael pried off the brick. Like a faded perfume, more a memory than an experience. Since we already had a chance to drink Toki's sample, we weren't in rush to brew this. Also, there were the other teas we had to drink as well. Betty and Conrad's visit continues in part 2... coming soon.

Ching Dynasty Beauty

2008-09-16T12:41:00.000-07:00

This gorgeous 1850's yixing teapot belongs to Kai, a serious yixing collector and frequent visitor to the shop. Until this post, there's only been a handful of us lucky enough to see pieces from Kai's private collection. He brought along this Xianfeng Era teapot a couple Fridays ago. It fit perfectly in my palm and I felt the supple clay come to life as I warmed it with my hands.
I ask him if his teapot will pose for photos while he's having tea. He's more than accommodating, "You can keep it till my next visit. I have faith in you." I'm touched by his generosity and trust. But then he (half-joking) made me understand any serious damage to his pot would result in the immediate surrender of my strand of Tahitian black pearls. I guess it's easier to have faith when it's bolstered by collateral : )
Afraid my recent streak of clumsiness would result in 20 grand worth of pretty pottery shards and the loss of one cherished necklace, I hurriedly snapped some pics and returned the teapot to Kai before he left. Part of me wanted to keep it forever.

Lush peonies, chrysanthemum and even a sprig of bamboo are topped with a decorated finial.

Kai says this teapot was most likely produced for export to the West. Although the body is a traditional Yixing pear shape, the illustration and decorative accents would not have appealed to Asian tastes. I love how the unusual amalgam of styles makes it exotic even among other Yixing pieces.

Even the spout has some abstract adornment; something I've never seen before.More decorative glaze on the handle. Although the art is quite elaborate for such a small teapot, the simple shape supports all the incredible detail. Not an artist's stamp but a carved inscription. One that was difficult for us to make out.Fanciful butterflies play in a garden of floral delights. Even the wings have elegant streaks of gold!
I wish I could convey to everyone just how incredible the clay felt. There was something buttery and smooth in texture. It seemed to pull the heat away from my hands and I could have held on to this perfect little gongfu pot for a long time.

Remnants of a past

2008-09-10T13:02:00.000-07:00

This beautiful shard of porcelain used to be a gaiwan. A notably elegant one that managed to stay intact for over 50 years until one day, several years ago, it was dropped by Winnie. Even dainty, gracile Winnie has clumsy moments (not me... I have clumsy weeks). This one resulted in shattered porcelain. Naturally, Winnie was upset over the loss of a favorite tea vessel. Michael helped her pick up the pieces but instead of throwing them away, he insisted they keep every shard found. " You never know, we may find a way to use them again", he said. "Besides, it's still beautiful to look at."
Picking through remains, I had to agree. Still beautiful...

The reason Michael and Winnie wanted to show me these fragments: This exquisite bird.

There's something poignant about this delicate bird, separated from it's tree. Pert and lively, it looks as if it will sing or fly away at any moment.A beautiful show of brushwork from beak to tail feathers.

Speaking of porcelain remnants...

Here are a pair of identical lids long separated from their cups. As I mentioned in my previous post, surviving lids can have a second life as shallow cups for tea or rice wine. I can only imagine how beautiful the missing cups and saucers were.
These lids are reproduction pieces from 1900 - 1950.
The stamp on the lid says it was made in QianLong era. That tells us the original design was produced between 1736 - 1795 during the Ching Dynasty. The playful pattern is delicately embossed. Bright colors are subtly brought together, enhancing the lyrical design.

Whether it's saving the unbroken parts of a gaiwan or holding onto a handful of shards, there is still beauty to be found, new perspectives to be learned. I'll think twice before judging something just because it's less than whole.

Til next time...

Vintage Gaiwans

2008-09-02T12:41:00.000-07:00

I ask Michael if I can take photos of his vintage gaiwan collection to share with some friends on the web. "Just be careful with them," he says as he watches me raid the cabinets. "It's hard to find the older styles." Knowing the hefty price tag on some of them, I'm very careful with the gaiwans. But I do trip over a wire and knock his super expensive camera off the table. Surprisingly, he allows me to live and continue taking photos. Here are a few of my favorites. No gaiwans were harmed in the making of this post.

Lively brushwork on a rich orange surface. Michael believes this piece was crafted as early as the 1930's. Vintage gaiwans enhance a collection with different clay, discontinued colors and shapes. There's a variety of artistic styles missing in more modern forms; not to mention a level of creative expression that was stamped out during the Cultural Revolution.

A playful piece with bold primary colors. Is it a psychedelic plant creature with multiple heads? Was the artist recreating a childhood dream or nightmare?

From retro outburst to an elegant floral motif.
It seems there really is a style for every mood and every tea.

Let's compare a pre-Cultural Revolution gaiwan to it's modern counterpart:

Many older gaiwans are characterized by a bluish-grey tint to the porcelain. A hue made more apparent when compared to this modern gaiwan with it's milky white complexion. It's not hard to see why the short, shallow nob and straight walls of older styles have fallen out of vogue. It takes a skilled tea brewer with adroit, nerve-deadened fingers to maintain a secure grip on this type of vessel filled with dangerously hot tea. Newer gaiwans generally have a tall, easy-to-grasp nob and a flared rim that allows for a comfortable grip.

What's the safest way to handle a vintage lid with a shallow nob? Pinch one side of the nob with thumb and index finger and brace the middle finger against the opposite side of the nob.

Another eye-popping design. This one I've used (very carefully) for tea tastings. I love to pair a decades old gaiwan with an equally old tea. The opportunities are rare but the experiences are unforgettable.

A more traditional looking piece with delicate artwork. Little details like the cobalt blue mountain peaks add something precious to the already graceful scene. Subdued and refined.

For a more contemplative tea experience. A rare find: the skillful brush strokes and delicate coloring by the artist increases the value of this piece from the 1930's. Sadly, many gaiwans of this caliber do not survive the decades of use. Often times, cups are missing lids or vice versa. But separate pieces still have a value and use. What was once a beautiful lid can be flipped over and used as a shallow tea or rice wine cup. The nob now becomes a little foot. New life for old porcelain.