Testimonials & user reviews

ing profound ... and that's exactly what I'm finding here with this Fengxi Old Ginger. Some context for my review: 2022 was the year of Jiang Mu for me, I sourced 11 different examples from 10 different vendors and drank Jiang Mu every single day. 365 days, 365 sessions with Jiang Mu. Most of what I sourced was daily-drinker material, meant to be target practice for me as I went through the motions and learned about the way this cultivar behaves and expresses itself. A select few were serious deep-dives. I was able to procure some single-tree batches including 28 grams of what was allegedly the mother bush from Fengxi. I don't know for sure if it was the real mother bush or not, but I can say for sure that it was very good, and very expensive ... as authentic Mu Shu dancong always is. Fengxi Old Ginger reminds me strongly of the mother tree, minus the price tag. There are some differences but the core nexus of flavors have strong overlap. This one is thick and jammy, with a whole bakery full of apricot-glazed shortbread cookies coming out in the first few steeps. It's really doughy and soft, but it also sits heavily on the palate and sinks deeply into the throat, where the huigan stubbornly emanates for a very long time. The mouthfeel is thicker than cold motor oil yet it retains a perfumy, soft floral quality that reminds me strongly of galangal root and white grape juice. The contrast is lovely, like watching steam rising off the surface of a frozen arctic lake in the dead of winter ... with a cup of Fengxi Old Ginger in hand, of course. There's a very gentle nibble of bitterness in these leaves which comes out towards the end of the session. I think this bitterness is a characteristic of the cultivar, and not the result of poor processing techniques, because I find a similar and distinct bitterness with other high-end examples of Jiang Mu. It reminds me a bit of turmeric root, especially in the final steep. The evolution of the huigan is perhaps the most profound aspect of this dancong, and that's where I find most of the ginger-like notes to be concentrated. It's warming, mildly sweet, and has some hints of sage that I haven't found in other Jiang Mu. This is clearly not plantation material, the complexity of the flavor profile from initial sip to the final lingering sensations of the aftertaste makes it apparent that Fengxi Old Ginger comes from a biodiverse farm, with good diversity and ecology. I love the depth of the flavors, how many subtleties there are, how cohesive all of this feels in the body and mind. This is top-shelf Jiang Mu.
Show Less

t on the palate. I have to reorder this... as my new staple oolong tea to which others will be compared.
Show Less

up the whole pack for it. I left the leaves in an 8 cup pot to refill for two times and changed once afterward to refill once. So total 40 cups. There is still half a pack of leaves. The tea was aromatic, delicious and great with the meal. Everyone enjoyed it. Strength of the tea was not quite even because of this steeping method, but that was expected. However, this quality is beyond my expectation for the price!
Show Less

a word: rarefied. The first few raven-dark cups gave way to a mahogany red color on subsequent infusions. The bold, earthy mist evolved to reveal a rich, mingled impression of truffle and cherry. I wish I’d known this sooner. A caddy of Yiwu Large Leaf has been sitting in the back of my cupboard for months, neglected and misunderstood. Yiwu, it was me, not you! My one previous uninspired tasting was the result of skimping on the tea as well as miscalculation of water temperature and infusion time. I’ve now corrected those variables after a double blanching. What a remarkable difference. Do all Shengcha pu’ers have this broad range of color and taste? I want to find out. And thanks, Yiwu Large Leaf, for not saying, “I told you so.”
Show Less

stringency to speak of. Re-infuses well even at 1g to 100ml ratio. Goes smoothly with savory meals and is very attractive on its own. M.
Show Less