What our customers say

It is great comfort to read from a user who can so explicitly understand the rarity and value of this selection. It does take ample exposure to what’s available in the market, consistent brewing skills, as well as the talents of a sensitive palate to write this comment here. My deepest appreciation.

Fenghuang Rou Gui is an exceptionally rare cultivar, and makes for a very intriguing experience for the seasoned dancong aficionado who has been around the block with many of the usual Shui Xian hybrids.

This dancong is incredibly creamy and smooth, with a velvety texture and an oily viscosity to it that quickly spreads throughout the mouth and coats the entire throat as I continue to work the magical soup down into my belly.

The evolution of flavors and textures is stellar; across the full session, there is much to appreciate in every sip, and as I continue to work my way through the tea, it’s hard to miss the “wow” factor that these leaves bring. This is seriously impressive.

The initial sensations remind me of freshly churned butter and heavy cream infused with a touch of sweet cinnamon; it’s soft and round with no discernible edges to it, and has a warming spicy quality. The mouthfeel is doughy and chewy, like freshly baked scones or shortbread.

As the silky-smooth buttery notes melt away on the palate, they reveal a gorgeous bouquet of florals which remind me of white magnolia and lilies – but not just the blossoms, I’m talking about the stalks and stems too. This is a very three-dimensional experience, with great depth and nuance in every aspect of the flavor profile.

The milky, flowery notes get stronger even half-way through the session, and are joined by a powerful and characteristic dancong minerality which adds a lot of texture to the mouthfeel. It isn’t aggressive, but adds a touch of sharpness that gently cuts through the smooth, buttery-like qualities initially perceived on the palate, leaving behind what is undoubtedly a vibrant and earthy note of ginseng with slightly tart undertones which remind me of hibiscus flowers and cherries.

Towards the end of my session, those fruity undertones start to rise to the surface of the flavor profile, carrying with them a distinct fruity sweetness that is seamlessly integrated with notes of ginseng root soaked in cinnamon oil.

My favorite part about this tea is just how complex the mouthfeel is, and how much it changes over the course of a good, focused session. If you are a fan of the Jiang Mu cultivar, you don’t want to miss this one, it will certainly elevate your appreciation and understanding of Fenghuang dancong.

Glad that you and your wife both recognise the difference of this very fine pu’er!

Tea Master’s Pick

Opening a package of Keemun Traditional Supreme will transport you into a library full of fine leather-bound books. The infusion will yield a glossy, mahogany liquor tasting of figs, almond blossoms, and sanded timber. One can easily imagine a sea captain bringing this tea across the ocean to his titled patrons, reserving some first for his own personal use. The taste of Keemun Traditional Supreme stays reminiscently on your palate long after the drinking is done with just enough caffeine to set your sails to the wind.

Indeed, sometimes we want a fragrant tea, sometimes a fruity one, yet some other times things that are a little deeper. There are teas that easily appeal to most people and there are teas that only some will understand. When I was young I could not bear the taste of bitter gourd, but some time somewhere in my adulthood, I suddenly found the taste of bitter gourd amazing. They say it is only after one has learned the bittersweet nature of life that one can appreciate bitter gourd. I think it is the understanding of taste itself.

Enjoy!

I appreciate the depth and clarity of this Yunwu, it is most certainly a mature & sophisticated representation of a popular cultivar. This one is pungent & complex, with some nuances that set it apart from other examples of Yunwu that I’ve tried in the past.

The dry leaf aroma is strong and clear, with subtle traces of dark chocolate, perhaps a testament to the wild nature of these tea bushes. As the steam from my hot mug warms up the leaves, I get some hints of malted grains that begin to waft up from the cup.

Regardless of how you brew it up, the soup is quite complex, with a full and round body that has well-developed notes of cucumber, squash, snow peas, and steamed spinach. There are some of the typical nutty undertones associated with Yunwu, and I also get some hints of cacao nibs. There are distinct overtones of fresh-cut florals, and a lingering sweetness that is pervasive from the initial sip through the aftertaste. This sweetness sits firmly in the back of the throat, creating a very soothing and pleasant sensation that lasts for a while.

This is a very clean and refreshing tea, all the way through. Upfront, it’s powerful and will definitely grab your attention, and on the back-end, it’s very gentle and soft in its nature. It even resists turning bitter in the cup as the soup cools, which makes for an interesting session if you want to take your time sipping on this tea slowly and appreciating the subtle changes as the temperature drops gradually.