Laobanzhang has long been an example of ambivalence. Its bitterness contrasts with the sweetness that pervades you a moment later, the exaltation of its essence opposed to the condemnation of the upheaval caused by its own greatness. Its leaves can be as bitter and severe in youth as they are sweet and complex as they age, teaching us that solemnity is not in the present and that it can never be enclosed once and for all. What drives us to buy what now seems so distant from reality? Yet as Sophocles said there is no life without pleasure but, above all, life is more beautiful when one does not think.
This is Laobanzhang, a corner of the world where gods seem to have found refuge, a strip of 300 hectares of ancient trees that have seen the course of the ages so much as to survive the history of the village itself. There are about 120 families mostly of the Hani ethnic group who inhabit these mountains, about 500 people almost all involved in the tea market, that same tea that once animated their ancestors now seems to have took away the soul of their descendants. The radical change in lifestyle, the experimentation of mere materialism have placed the village in front of a test that is only partially overcoming. There are many examples of counterfeiting, of slightly above average tea, quality standards that are not always clear or respected. All at crazy and irrational prices.
However, a sip of a real Laobanzhang is able to enrapture us to the point of blurring the language, words become superfluous and we are ready to resort to the credit card through a disintegration of self-control only to chase the memory of a tea which, when authentic, remains indelible in our memory.
The problem is that by now we risk finding very little of that authenticity in the future and at that point the bitterness will take over even the sweetest of memories.
That of the Tianhong Tea Factory is a centenary trees sheng pu from material collected in the spring of 2018 that contains all the ancient charm of a village. It appears in a brilliant golden color with pinkish undertones; notes of wood burning in the rain and nuances of ripe apricot emerge from the wet leaves than hints of cavendish tobacco, plum jam, light botanical-alcoholic fragrance along with reminiscences of wild flowers, caramelized citrus and subtle scent of violet candy.
I think the measure of a good Laobanzhang is not only the sensory complexity, but the ability to stimulate the memory in a articulated and orderly sense, like an open book on the knees whose pages are nostalgically leafed through; that is what happened with this sheng. On the palate it has an extraordinary balance, the herbaceous flavor is wrapped in a honeyed sensation, the liqueur is thick, juicy, the bitterness allows the aromas to remain for an interminable time and the mouth to salivate while intrepidly awaiting the next sip. The qi is strong and the final notes close on a pleasantly floral and refreshing sensation.
Wild Harvested 