Wild Harvested

Tag: yunnan

  • Unbound by fragrance – The tea of Ba Nuo through a 2022 teng tiao gushu

    Unbound by fragrance – The tea of Ba Nuo through a 2022 teng tiao gushu

    In recent years I have repeatedly had the pleasure of trying Ba Nuo teas, it is one of the places that perhaps more than others has taught me to free myself from the “aromatic” dimension of tea and to concentrate on the sip, on the tactile sensations, on the physicality of the brew.

    Ba Nuo is a village accessible via narrow, dirt roads, you can still see the old houses, some with sheet metal roofs, flanked by other newer and larger ones, the result of overbuilding and the rush to compulsive urbanism that followed the economic growth of the tea villages.
    Ba Nuo is located at 1900 meters above sea level, located on the eastern mountain range of Mengku, Dong Ban Shan, populated by around 300 families of the Han and Lahu ethnic groups, practically all of whom work in the tea industry. From the top you can see the villages on the western side, the Xi Ban Shan range, Dong Guo, Xiao Hu Sai, Da Hu Sai, Baka, as if immersed in a Bierstadt painting.

    The soils contain a good amount of clay and organic matter, are acidic or sub-acid, with no stones on the surface, but what is striking are the Teng Tiao, also called “vine trees”, which appear like bony and lignified hands dating back to soil, without other plants to counteract them. Pruning the lateral branches favors the apical dominance of the plant, which will develop very elongated branching and leaves placed only on the tips.

    Yang, a farmer from Ba Nuo, explained to me how it is not a natural way of cultivation, the land has been prepared, even weeded up to 15 years ago, the surrounding forest has been partly cut down to allow the tea trees to receive more light. Many trees were planted by the Lahu people as early as 300 years ago but the influence of the Han and modernization over time led to the development of this type of cultivation.

    Despite the altitude, the agronomic peculiarities, it is not a tea that impresses with its aromas, it is not a complacent palliative for the slaves of fragrance. It took me five months to revisit this tea, perhaps among the most misunderstood in Yunnan, but also one of the most particular.

    This Teasenz sheng was harvested in spring 2022 from teng tiao gushu, after being aged 7 months as maocha. I waited 5 months before trying it again, stored at 65% RH, slightly lower than what I store my teas at (68-69% RH).
    Timidly the leaves began to advance notes of orchid, dandelion root, wood and toasted cereals. The sip was soft, with aromas of honey, chrysanthemum, apricot, but where it really struck was the qi. It wasn’t a sip that simply came and went, but it came again and again, it continually returned after each infusion and continued even far from the cup, the huigan accentuated the honeyed sweetness even more, surrounded by a light minerality that made the sip every time more pleasant.

  • Memories of chatting about Mengsong and an old Bameng friend with a 2007 Teasenz gushu

    Memories of chatting about Mengsong and an old Bameng friend with a 2007 Teasenz gushu

    I don’t think there can be any tea, any time, any sip without the people who bring with them the truth of a territory. One of the first tea maker I met was from Bameng, he worked for a factory in Mengsong and was nicknamed 小毛虫 “little caterpillar”. This name was given to him by his parents, when he used to sneak out of the woven wooden basket to observe spiders and insects while his family clung to the ancient trees for the harvest.

    Every time he picked up those yellow caterpillars he went back towards his mother’s legs crying, with his face full of mud and his hands swollen from the stinging substance of the insect. He had an immoderate passion for those caterpillars and an even greater stubbornness.
    His family’s teas were special, with that disarming power right in the mouth, his laughter when talking about the times now spent in his village were even more energetic.

    His nickname also referred to the ability of those insects to transform, as well as the growth that his parents hoped for him. He incessantly emphasized how his village had changed, how the people of that place had changed and with them their landscape. We talked about how tea had been an alibi for both dreams and reality, a substance of conversion capable of overturning eras and conditions, of extracting from things its opposite.

    We sipped pu’er talking about how the tea inherited its alchemical nature, as a transmutative substance and as a creator ex nihilo. The noise of the forest and of the harvest would always be the backdrop to his life and tea would always accompany him until the end of the sunset, until the last dance of the chrysalises.

    This 2007 Mengsong Gushu by Teasenz reminds me of those chats, those powerful, intense and penetrating pu’er. The scent of wet leaves is reminiscent of leather boots, sundried plum, flambéed citrus peel together with the sensation of dried rose petals in the middle of an ancient book. Balsamic notes then appear, of turnips cooked over charcoal and in the background light nuances of an open tin of latakia tobacco placed on an old, slightly damp fir furniture.

    The sip is silky with a medium persistence and an excellent sweetness accompanied by a typical salty flavor that recalls a pleasant mineral sensation of rock. A good huigan is surrounded by notes of roots, rhododendron honey, rose hips, plum and leather, adorned with an orchestra of citrus notes, balsamic candy and light traces of cardamom.

  • Finesse as redemption for Fengqing pu’er. Xiangzhuqing gushu sheng pu 2019 by Li Yu Lu

    Finesse as redemption for Fengqing pu’er. Xiangzhuqing gushu sheng pu 2019 by Li Yu Lu

    Hiking in Fengqing it is impossible not to arrive at what is perhaps the oldest tea tree in the world after drinking liters of that Fengqing 58 which is served in every single restaurant in the prefecture. But climbing higher up, towards 2000 meters beyond the taidicha and rice fields that continue northwards, near the villages of Chajia and Hedicun, you arrive at Xiangzhuqing, a small village at the foot of the peak with a fair amount of ancient trees around the village.

    The air is cleaner, more humid, the heat stops in the Fengqing lowland and the rains fall timidly on the light sandy-ferrous soils of the mountain.
    The extensive drainage, the scarcity of nutrients towards the surface layer creates a clear distinction with Mengku trees, environment and in the concentration of biocomponents in tea leaves.

    Although it is assumed to be the same variety, Xiangzhuqing pu’er are lighter, floral and with almost no astringency and bitterness. They essentially seem like the less hypochondriac counterpart of some Yiwu teas on the Gaoshan side.

    Encountering this 2019 gushu sheng from Mr. Li Yu Lu is a direct response to the arrhythmic advancement of Fengqing pu’er onto the market; fine, delicate teas that showcase Lincang in a new, renewed light.

    The wet leaves seem to revive memories of a hot summer, with notes of persimmon, papaya, orange peel, in which balsamic tones and nuances of peach toffee candy, green melon, hay and dried apple alternate composedly. They are counterbalanced by floral hints of osmanthus, elderberry and scents of a walk in a freshly mown lavender field. More sharp fragrances emerge later such as rubber tree, juniper and black pepper.

    The sip is at times monotonous but enlivened by a pleasant mineral verve, it is sugary, medium-bodied with a typical absence of astringency and bitterness, ending on juicy aromas of persimmon, mango jam and elderberry.

  • A cup that smells like an orchard next to a creek. TTdC Sanmai 2013 sheng pu from hundred-year-old trees

    A cup that smells like an orchard next to a creek. TTdC Sanmai 2013 sheng pu from hundred-year-old trees

    The sheng pu of Thès Terre de Ciel is the reflection of an extraordinary terroir such as that of Sanmai, a village that follows the limelight of Mengsong teas, preserving its pure fruity appearance and sugary touch and at the same time sheltered from oracular exaltation and censorship which brought many teas from these areas at now crazy prices.

    Sanmai pu’er are nostalgic stimulants, a perpetual conversation with the hippocampus like opening an album of memories on your lap. This 2013, from old trees at 1600 meters above sea level, has the traits of someone who brings with him the first charms of the time while retaining that enlivening and exuberant youthful verve.

    The color of the liqueur is amber, the hints of the wet leaves echo peach jelly, dried plums, yellow rock sugar and custard cream. Its olfactory fervor is an unfolding of different layers of complexity, a swing of evolved notes and other more naive and fresh ones.
    The spectrum then turns to naturalism, with olfactory memories of pickled bamboo, of mountain flowers up to the progression of reminiscence first of undergrowth, then minerals and iodines, like an orchard next to a creek, enjoying dried tropical fruit and Moroccan biscuits.

    The aromatic approach in the mouth is that of a good, true pu’er, without excesses of fame or rhetoric. On the palate it is sweet and accommodating, with a practically absent bitterness and astringency. The sip is enveloping, of medium thickness, the sweetness of dark sugar and peach cream is integrated and it speeds it up, the note of pomelo zest is subservient to a set of bakery ad fruity aromas that recall a fruit tart. Excellent persistence of a finish with a fascinating floral and wild apple weaving.

  • Sanmai, the village in Mengsong where time seems to have stopped

    Sanmai, the village in Mengsong where time seems to have stopped

    Sanmai has gained more and more attention from pu’er enthusiasts in recent years, following the growing interest in the forests of Naka and the Mengsong area.

    It is surrounded by some of the most famous mountains in Menghai county, about an hour north of Banpo zhai in the Nannuo area, and an hour and a half south of Huazhuliangzi, reachable passing through the villages of Bameng and Baotang. The forests alternate with the taidicha like an ecological clash between human and nature,the primitive and forest scenarios intensify as you enter the trees towards the North, on the road to Sanmai Laozhai. Once in Sanmai Shangzhai there are only a few kilometers to walk towards the ancient gardens where the natural severity and the inexorability of the woods continues up to the gates of Nanben Laozhai.

    Some Mengsong areas seem to open up towards the immense, they consecrate themselves in that “Open” which for Heidegger was the condition in which things, places, people can appear for what they are and not for their numerical value. From the ancient gardens of Sanmai, the valley sloping down to Jinghong, it seems like a mirage that would have elicited a surprised smile, despite his countless trips, even at Frederic Edwin Church.

    The lichens and saprophytic plants embrace the shrubs in those slopes born from an insane verticalism, which forced the few pickers who bet part of their existence on tea to remain more anchored to the anxieties of concreteness, where the violet of their cheeks was the only chromatic hint among the shades of that primordial greenery.

    Beyond the narrow and steep road, the rugged gorges and the road surface in which every ravine seems an existential leap, the Hani have found a home for centuries, what was previously a settlement became a security hub in 1934 under the name of Nanben Hebao, for then seeing his own name, Sanmai, only in 1956. Caravans often interrupted their journey here, the rains broke in for days, the oxen slipping caused them to lose the equipment entrusted to them and hence the legend of the name Sanmai, or the place where the tools were tied forming a trellis in the saddle of the ox.

    In the ancient gardens tea trees are scattered, some tall yet young seem to converse with the conical bodies of Moso bamboo which often makes this forest look like the ecosystem of Huazhuliangzi.
    Here, on the contrary, the bamboo was planted artificially, when tea had not yet reached its current economic importance, as a cash crop for building and textile purposes, and to restore the excessive soil reclamation which led to extremely important erosive phenomena. However, now its removal and reconversion of the land is a problem that inhabitants are facing with difficulty.

    The descendants of those exiled souls who bet on the tea of Mengsong and Sanmai now reap the fruit of a legacy that expands beyond its disciplinary limits, to the point of involving the destiny of their own territory.

    The rural scenes give value to the time that has passed, the villages develop on the open ridges of the mountains,where the approximately 500 families, mainly Hani, still live mainly thanks to livestock and farming. During the Gatangpa festival you can smell the scent of glutinous rice cakes in the alleys, people walk along the beaten path to reach the place of offerings, and then gather with their families drinking tea and rice wine, even some hens seem busy running out of the old wooden sheds; the black of the ethnic clothes, adorned with silver and silk tassels and the colorful bandanas with geometric motifs offer the only chromatic contrast from the red of the clay soil, as if their smiles were in that instant the only color detail on a black and white background.

    Despite the growing awareness of the value of their tea, it seems that the jianghu forged by conflicts of personality and self-affirmation has not arrived here, their leaves still manage to offer an experience saturated with meaning, freed from economic conflicts and apocryphal slogans; they develop an extended atmosphere in which the link with a past emerges, with those identities, of those perceptions beyond time, which have the ability to bring the aesthetic experience of this village back to the dimension of the present in a different, imperceptible and at the same time sensitive in its liquid revelation.

  • A forest out of this world, shaped by a Caravaggesque hand. This is Paliang

    A forest out of this world, shaped by a Caravaggesque hand. This is Paliang

    Passing the muddy paths close to Bulang, with those mountains behind you that seem to have been born from the virtuosity of a Caravaggesque hand, shaped by tectonic inclemency, by geological tension, the sun shines burning over the tropical karst sinkholes, a place where nature and men weave millenary relationships, meeting in the most inaccessible forest and in the architectural remains of the imperial era.

    The light filters through the dense forest, radiating the tea trees that look like illuminated actors in a naturalistic work twisted in lignified gestures, while the boys in the village load the trucks with cassava and laughter intones a background melody. Here stands the ancient village of Paliang, an out of this world place at about 1850 meters above sea level, surrounded by primitive works, where popular customs are preserved in their amnioticism.

    All this is defined by leaves that show in an objective elegance what is an empathetic initiation to Bulang teas. The infusions reveal a more restrained astringency, a character devoid of that fatherly austerity represented by the strong bitterness of some teas that are encountered a few tens of miles away.

    This sheng pu comes from material harvested in 2021 in Paliang. The scents of the leaves are like taking a look at an ancestral view, when wet they recall charcoal-cooked tropical fruit, the wild flowers bring back memories of an excursion on the bank of a wooded river, surrounded by deep forest moss, pervaded by the smell of wet rock. Almost primitive and mineral scents are accompanied by those of the juiciness of a basket of ripe fruit, there are notes of toasted dried fruit and slight hints of ancient leather.

    In the mouth it flaunts a smooth texture, it seems wrapped in silk drapes, the bitterness is contained although present, tempered by the soft and deep echoes of a sweetness resulting from the juiciness of a ripe peach. The sip recalls the sensations of a good Montrachet, the palate is soon refreshed by a peculiar minerality and eagerly seeking the next contact with the cup.

  • An emotional tea along Xiangling Highway. Mr Quen Cun An and his early 2000’s Manzhuan pu’er

    An emotional tea along Xiangling Highway. Mr Quen Cun An and his early 2000’s Manzhuan pu’er

    Along the Xianglun Highway, the entrances to the forest alternate with those of the taidicha, a single main road connects the village of Manzhuang to that of Manlin. The primeval essence of the tropical forest can be seen from the few patches of bare earth left; the age, mineralogy and extensive leaching of acrisol, which have led to low levels of plant nutrients, counteract the silt-clay undertones of the iron- and aluminum-rich ferrarsol in which the camellia has found its home.

    In the teahouses you drink the liquid consequence of a territory and its time, of a history of sacrifices and the search for the truest self-assertion. They become a place to find a family, a group or a simple shelter where one can abstract oneself from taxes or from any contradiction of contingencies, where every soul, even if tacit, does not wander alone, but together with other worn out and thirsty souls.

    Mr. Quen’s Manzhuan sheng pu’er expresses the charm of the lived, it is the example of those teas that seem to simplify what is most hidden and arcane and complicate what is simpler, making a set of organoleptic notes a complex symphony and a vivid image.

    The liqueur has a reddish color with orange reflections, reminiscent of the nuances of a tawny port. The scents of the wet leaves enriched with jinhua bring back memories of raw and primitive landscapes as Bruegel the Elder would have imagined them, with notes of damp earth, dried mushrooms, undergrowth, leading to a wood cabin under the rain, with the smell of aged mahogany, old books and a bouquet of faded flowers. Light balsamic tones take over in the background, together with those of burnt wood, laurel, dried plums, piloto tobacco, black pepper and dried longan.

    The gloomy evening atmosphere becomes more vivid with the appearance of notes of leather, cognac and typical hints of aging in oak barrels.
    The body is medium thick, the sip has notes of walnut, dried plums and aromatic herbs which are the prelude to the nuances of leather, old wood, cinchona, dried citrus peel and filter coffee.

    It is a sheng of great balance and sensory complexity, the bitterness is now perfectly integrated and not very perceptible as is the astringency, excellent huigan and remarkable persistence.
    Material from Ba Zhong Zhai village, Manzhuan area, family garden of Quen Cun An.

  • As long as the root is still there, everything is still there. A few words about Manzhuan

    As long as the root is still there, everything is still there. A few words about Manzhuan

    “只要根还在，一切都还在”
    Before the advent of a group of Taiwanese tea explorers in 1994, Manzhuan was a heavily rural area, dominated by vegetation surrounding classical Han architecture. Residents of Manzhuang, Manlin and Manqian were still recovering from the war that decimated many families, the losses due to the famine and class sacrifices of the Maoist era, especially between the 50s and 70s, brought the area of Manzhuang to count less than a hundred people, the sale of tea was almost impossible and agriculture was not even enough for self-sustaining.

    Social regimentation had devastated the existence of a place, disfigured the quiet by imposing an artificial order irreconcilable to it. But history soon revealed a whole other future, and from the mid 70s onwards the production and sale of tea was resumed, many centuries-old trees were pruned to increase production and answer an ever-increasing demand. This happened until the early 2000s, when the effects of the Taiwanese expedition and the explosion of the pu’er market made sure to return to a policy of conservation and preservation of their land, reliving their past.
    As long as the root is still there, everything is still there “只要根还在，一切都还在”.

    Manzhuang is one of those few remaining places that detract from humanity the superficial, in which between man and earth there is not a mere utilitarian link as between an animal and a drinking trough, but rather existential as the one between the world and God. It is here that trees distill the air full of herbs and wild fruits and man becomes able to transform it into the liquid painting of a land that still resists modernization, taking root in its primordial essence.

    Drinking Manzhuan pu’er like Mr. Quen’s is like letting a sip of reconstruction run down your throat, giving you the keys to a hard-earned identity. They are teas that allow to go beyond the material nature of the object, a liquid synthesis of the historical complexity of a region that has been the cradle of tea lyricism and incubator of a natural heritage for more than a thousand years.

    P.S. the cake in the photo, although produced in Yibang, bears the symbol and style of the productions of Mr. Quen Cun An’s family (Quanjihao tea factory), who manage gardens throughout the Six Mountains, including Manzhuan.

  • The Shangkang festival, the reconciliation of civilization, a nostalgic tea. Thoughts through a 2021 Wengji sheng pu from Moychay

    The Shangkang festival, the reconciliation of civilization, a nostalgic tea. Thoughts through a 2021 Wengji sheng pu from Moychay

    People gathered at the Shankang festival, their predecessors were honored, the offerings placed at the foot of a distant past in which every year the memory revived. It was an occasion to dance, to be involved in a moment when time seemed to stop, saturated with a sense that was difficult to translate into words, where society was reconciled and perfected, new relationships were woven and in the dance a harmonious idea of freedom and order was restored.

    The intense emanation of life was palpable also through the negatives of the photographs still hanging to dry, in those images you could see the dynamism of movements, conversations, aspirations, through that dance was reconstituted a kind of social consciousness, a “to be for others” even through the individualism, an assignment of virtue reflected in rhythmic and modal imposition, in traditional customs, in emphasized forms of courtesy, creating a link between distance and proximity, freedom and respect, confidence and discipline.

    In an age of collective utopias, among the mountain forests of Wengji flourishes instead the sense of dwelling, tea is evocative of a feeling of belonging, a vital civilization supported by the ability to live for its territory and its history alongside its neighbors, a loyalty to its land and the narration of its importance.

    In the gaiwan there is a 2021 Wengji sheng pu from Moychay, a complex tea where the typical character of Jingmai emerges in the notes of honey and flowers, orange peel, caramelized apricot, cooked strawberry and pandolce, with more primitive nuances in the background. The body is medium thick, the aromas direct and defined, the huigan emerges early after the advance of a archetypical and balanced bitterness.

  • The primordial essence of Da Xue Shan in YongDe County

    The primordial essence of Da Xue Shan in YongDe County

    he subtropical scenery of the Nanting River, from the foot of the mountain to the northern view of the main peak, seems to capture all the splendor of the world. Daxue rises to over 3,400 meters, opposite the other peak of the Nu mountain range, Xiaoxueshan.

    Karst severity alternates with the chromatism of the tropical forest of broad-leaved trees, water and land, peaks and plains create an antithetical contrast. It is said that a mountain has 4 seasons but thousands of different skies, and in Daxue there is nothing more true.
    Primordial colourism is the home of the black crested gibbon, the beauty and brilliance of wild flowers interrupts the immensity of the mountain, the Wanzhangyan waterfall seems suspended, as if it fell from the sky.

    Some families of the valley floor who do not work in large cities graze animals, while others work in small laboratories that produce Mangtuan paper, a tissue paper with a history of over 600 years made by hand from a bark called Maisha in the Dai language, for centuries used to transcribe Buddhist scriptures, books and packaging. Still others are dedicated to the collection of tea leaves and of the rare fruit varieties of the county such as Xiaomengtong pears, Mengdi litchi, Minglang papayas and Yongkang mango.

    The tea of Daxue, like its places, is addressed to the taster as a sincere lyric does with its auditorium, the distilled essence of a place is poured into our body giving it back its life while sweetness refluxes like childhood memories. His tea has quenched the thirst of poets and workers, revives memories of distant and primitive places as well as those of a work of art on a ceramic.

    Tea like those of Da Xue Shan are invested with a symbolic charge like few others, labaro of radical changes and that rise and fall from one existential plan to another that nothing is but the path of a rational being. Tea appropriates human nuances and analogies without resorting to forced anthropomorphism, it is imbued with a meaning that we ourselves put on it, it represents a momentary suspension where the ego meets in the cup its reflection.