A "Classic" Afternoon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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...