Archive for the ‘Darjeeling’ Category

an entirely new sense of both taste and smell


2011
08.15



It’s been interesting to go back and look at some of my earliest blogposts and see not only how different my method was then but also the dramatic difference in content. I reported on some relatively early experiences with Darjeeling when I wrote Getting my brain around Darjeeling.

I mentioned an interview with a tea grower called Ashok Kumar Lohia and his attempt to explain what makes Darjeeling tea different from all others. I liked his musings so much that I’ll actually quote what I said about it way back then:

The last thing I want to mention is how the interview began. He was asked why Darjeeling tea was so special. So different from other teas. His answer was that because the tea was grown so high in the mountains in the shadow of the Himalayas that there was something mystical about it. That the soil and the air was certainly crucial, but that the god Shiva lived there and his spirit affected the tea. It’s easy for me to dismiss that part, but then he said that the people who actually tend to the tea have an important impact on the way every cup of tea turns out. That growing tea takes a patience and dedication that has been honed for generations.

I’m sitting here on a very humid rainy day drinking a cup of Darjeeling Singbulli and I’m contemplating how my tastes have changed. This very delicious second flush is rather good, but it’s quite strong and possibly a little overbearing. Early on, I’d have veered away from a first flush because to my taste there simply wasn’t enough there to taste. That was then. It’s as if I’ve grown an entirely new sense of both taste and smell.

Don’t get me wrong. This has both a floral and citrus taste that I love in good Darjeelings. The muskatel is bold and tasty. But I’m smiling to myself that there was a time I’d want more boldness. Maybe a hammer blow of it. My tongue is begging me to brew a light and delicate first flush Darjeeling next to balance all of this power.

I might just do that.

Here’s a blogpost where I went into more detail about Darjeeling first or second flush?

that wet earth smell


2011
08.06

Am on a bit of a blogging tear right now, but it’s hard not to be when there’s so much going on around here. There was a nice mix of sightseeing and tea drinking today, but I wanted to quickly talk about a tea that Xavier brought along with him.

It’s a green tea from China that he got as a sample from Le Palais des Thés, which is a tea seller we both like quite a bit. The tea’s called Gu Zhang Mao Jian, and the package says that it has, ‘the aroma of wet earth after a storm that is so popular in China.’

We spent an inordinate amount of time trying to detect that wet earth smell. But now that I have a bit more time to think about it, I wonder if the Chinese really have such a fondness for this scent of damp soil. If so, why?


But enough about that. Here’s how the leaves looked before they got all earthy wet:

I thought it looked almost like a Darjeeling, but it tasted like anything but.

The first infusion was nice but alas, as you might’ve expected, no wet earth smell. Maybe it’d materialise upon further brewings (it didn’t). There was a freshness to this Gu Zhang Mao Jian that I almost want to call grassy. Nothing like a Japanese Sencha, but very vegetal.

There was something that almost tasted of asparagus in there, and that sent us down the rather confusing yet enjoyable path of finding the French word for asparagus (it’s asperge by the way). The asparagus-like taste only became stronger on the second infusion.

The smell of the leaves afterwards was so delicious. Almost wanted to go search for something about cooking with green tea leaves. Almost, but not quite.


Here’s how the leaves looked after the thorough workout we gave them:

Unfortunately, you can’t smell the asparagus in a photo. Use your imagination, ok?

There’ll be plenty more about the weekend that all these tea people came to visit, but I wanted to include this tea review before things got under way in earnest. There will be a bit of earnestness, after all. You don’t believe a word I’m saying, do you?

Who would put milk in their Darjeeling tea?


2011
08.01



There was a lively discussion this morning about polluting Darjeeling tea with milk. Robert Godden (you might know him as The_Devotea over on twitter) mentioned in passing that his wife insisted on drinking her Darjeeling with milk and sugar. It’s Australia. They don’t necessarily stand on convention in the distant reaches of civilisation.

For a few brief moments we had a Beasts of Brewdom situation. Almost immediately after the offhand remark about milk and sugar in Darjeeling, there was shock and dismay coming from up in Portland, Oregon. Lazy Literatus, who’s also known by his given name Geoff Norman, could be heard spitting up his tea upon hearing how the Darjeeling was being mishandled.
Well at this point, another Australian (Verity Fisher also known as @joiedetea) quietly admitted that she’d uncharacteristically added milk to her Darjeeling that morning because she’d over-steeped her tea and the milk cut down on the bitterness. I was worried Geoff might have an aneurism at this point. She assured him that it wouldn’t happen again, but I’m not entirely sure he believed her. Only time will tell.
I have an Irish friend who’s been ordering Darjeeling in bulk for decades from the Tee Kampagne, and he’s been putting milk in his tea since he was small. Or smaller. He wouldn’t give a damn what these tea obsessives on twitter thought about how he took his tea. He doesn’t idealise this high mountain delicacy like we do. It’s simply another black tea for him. Simple.
So what about you? Are you more like Geoff, whose precarious health status seems to have recovered from the original shock, or me even? Would you sooner pour used motor oil in your Darjeeling than destroy it with moo juice?
Or are you a bit of a Philistine on the whole ‘milk in my Darjeeling‘ debate? It’s just tea, after all.

Darjeeling - Lahikmajoe Drinks Tea

the ‘best tea’?


2011
07.19


Was asked by a friend today what the ‘best tea’ was. What a question, eh? But I love a good debate. And blog comments. In case I’ve been unclear in the past, I really really like blog comments. So here’s my not-so-humble answer. I wonder how the rest of you might respond.

Many teabloggers focus on green and/or Oolong tea, but as much as I like them, I’ve focused more on black tea. Most tea sellers in Germany make their own unique Ostfriesen Blend that is often a mix of strong, malty Assam and a Chinese Keemun (and maybe an Indian Nilgiri). If I had to choose my favourite non-single estate tea, it’d be one of those specialty blends.

But if it’s brands we’re talking about, the tastiest and most consistent tea I’ve found is ‘Yorkshire Gold‘ made by Taylors of Harrogate. But that’s only if we’re talking about black tea blends.

I’d say the best non-green/Oolong tea, in my opinion, is still a single estate Darjeeling (to be truly accurate, most ‘black’ Darjeeling is really only 90% oxidised, so it’s actually Oolong). I like stronger tea, so I enjoy second as well as first flush Darjeeling.

But the best brand? If you’re buying from a seller that can tell you on which estate a Darjeeling was grown, then the likelihood is that it’ll be better than something labeled simply as ‘Darjeeling‘. The estimation is that 40,000 tonnes of Darjeeling are sold worldwide, while only 10,000 tonnes are grown. Logically, one isn’t always entirely sure that purchased Darjeeling was actually grown there.

Again, I’m very grateful for the question. Clearly the answer you’ll get is entirely objective. I like thinking about how to make loose-leaf tea drinking more attractive. If I were a tea snob, it’d be the worst way of going about the whole thing.

What about you other tea obsessives? When someone asks you what the ‘best tea’ is, what might you say? I know on the face of it, it’s an impossible question. But please jump in and claim your stake on this issue.

Did I mention that blog comments are encouraged?

like a Cheshire Cat


2011
03.30

I’ve had several whole day meetings with some clients, and something very curious happened during the coffee break each day. My tea was brewed and carried to the office in two well-worn flasks. It had to last me through the entire day, so I rationed it very carefully. By the late afternoon, I still had at least one very delicious cup of Darjeeling to savour.

And then it happened.

The break was announced, some headed for the toilets, others went outside to smoke, and one guy broke out his tea stash. I wish I could report that he was a loose-leaf tea drinker. Alas, it was a plastic Ziploc bag with a variety of bagged tea.

Nevertheless. The assortment was carefully arranged. Others were curious what his bag o’ tea selection offered and gladly accepted his invitation to pull out their choice of teabag. Someone put on the kettle and soon thereafter teabags were submerged in nearly boiling water.

‘Wait just a minute’, I hear some of you say. ‘You’re a tea snob, right? No teabags for you. Why did this put such a ridiculous smile on your face?’

Well, of course loose-leaf tea is the goal. It’s what I’m sure people would insist on if they knew how far superior the quality of tea almost always is when it’s loose-leaf. We all know the arguments for rejecting teabags. But this was tea (no matter how substandard) being fully enjoyed by a group of people who very likely would’ve otherwise had yet another cup of overheated coffee. These were my people.

Did I try to lure them over to the leaf-side? I did not. I sipped my perfect cup of Darjeeling and smiled like a Cheshire Cat and took in a deep breath.

And then I let it out. Still smiling.

tea entrepreneur


2011
03.17

Some weeks ago, Neil from Neil’s Yard told me a story that I’m sure I’ve heard before but not in such detail. The way he explained it was that there was a business professor in Berlin who wanted to show his students an example of entrepreneurship. He also happened to really enjoy drinking tea. Darjeeling tea to be exact.

If you’ve read even a little of my blog, you know that this story quickly got my attention. The professor’s name was Günter Faltin and his company is called Teekampagne. He was fascinated with how inexpensive products were in their country of origin, so he resolved to sell Darjeeling tea in bulk with nearly no markup. He was offering fair-trade long before it was the done thing. Here’s how he describes how his rationale for not charging more for fair-trade:

The education reformer Ivan Illich who I got to know in the early 1980s, used to argue vehemently against charging extra for fair trade. In this practice, he argued, the customer pays not only for the product but also contributes to an invisible “charity box,” a modern version of buying “indulgences” (paying money to save your soul) – a trade that Martin Luther was already inveighing against. Although charity has some positive effects, it does NOT challenge the business models that put pressure on commodity prices in exporting countries and inflate prices for consumers at the other end. Since it does not represent a systemic change of business practices, it is also not sustainable: it may stop when the charitable giver’s attention is drawn to
another urgent need. We practice fair trade with a different method: we do not charge the consumer so that we can feel good about ourselves; instead, we challenge costly conventions, and the savings benefit everyone.

That’s just one interesting point he makes in a lengthy article called “Citizen Entrepreneurship” for a Meaningful Life. There’s enough here to make several meaty blogposts, which I intend to write, but I wanted to quickly introduce him to those of you who might not have heard of him or his company yet. Teekampagne is Germany’s largest mail order tea company, as well as the biggest Darjeeling importer in the world.

If you’re in the US, you might know his company as Boston Tea Campaign. In Japan, it’s called Teeidee. Can’t wait to dig in deeper to this guy’s ideas.