Brooklyn Royalty

 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.

Brooklyn Treasures - Pt.2

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!

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 .

A season of Aloeswood

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.

Like Water for Tea

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

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.

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

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.