Cha Xi Collective

2011 Da Hong Pao - Wuyi Star Tea

Dark twisted dry leaves that look like the leaves on the trees outside on this chilly fall day. The aroma is pure warmth, like sweet wood smoke. 

The liquor is a beautiful autumn leaf blazing red that glows in the lamp light. 

The first infusion was without a rinse, so I allowed it about 45 seconds (a fair number of leaves were in the pot). I detect a subtle sweetness on the tip of the tongue, but a whole lot of smoke and earth. There’s a walnut shell or raw cacao effect: dry and textured. It really tastes like the smell of a walk in the woods on Thanksgiving day.

For the second infusion I returned to a more standard 20-30 seconds. The effect is similar if a bit more drying. But the next one packed quite a sweet punch like a really good toasted almond. The body gets lighter, but that crispness on the tip of the tongue does not fade. 

This tea was the only one I purchased at the Ningbo tea expo. I’ve written about our adventures in Ningbo previously. We had tasted many different teas from many different booths as we were guided around by our tea friends. There was pretty much everything represented there, including a whole section (in a separate building) for Taiwanese tea. 

The booth that sold this tea was one of the last I passed. Much of the visual draw for me was the fantastic (but expensive) teaware that various potters had displayed. This booth had no pottery at all, but they clearly had spent some money on packaging and advertising their products. Little colored tubes set up on a table really spoke to my love for the exotic. Each tube contained a different tea, and as I remember there was quite a nice selection. 

Even though my initial reaction was along the lines of, “how nice looking, but I doubt they really know their tea”, I was intrigued. The same must of been true of my friends, as before I knew it they had all purchased one tube or another. Now, even excited as I was to be at a tea expo in China, influenced by the purchases of my friends, and attracted to the appearance of this booth, I have a fairly strict rule of not buying tea that I haven’t had a chance to taste. It was the proverbial straw that broke my will when I learned that in buying one of these tea samples, the customer was given a free gaiwan and set of cups. I suppose I am more of a sucker for teaware than anything else. 

By the time I decided to get something, we were already on our way out, so I hurriedly excused myself from the group, ran back to the booth, and grabbed a tea I thought would be a rare taste on our trip (since we were enable to visit Fujian or Guandong), reliable Da Hong Pao. 

As it turns out, the free gaiwan was not very strongly built, nor well packed. By the time I made it to Shanghai, the fine porcelain was cracked and punished into a pile of silt. I did manage to save some of the cups, but the real treat of this experience was the tea itself. It turns out that Wuyi Star appears to match their quality with their style. Quite a number of infusions (upwards of 7) were my reward along with a rich, nicely textured flavor that blessedly was free of over-roasting (as is often the case with similar Wuyi Yan Cha).

I hope to attend more tea expos in the future. 

2011 Rou Gui from Shanghai

This tea came from Ming Qiu Cha Yuan, a shop in a Shanghai tea market. Pumpkin orange in the cup, there’s a lot of Autumn in this tea. A fairly strong roast to the leaves gives much of the Wuyi oolong character to this tea, although there’s a subtle sweetness and fruitiness that lies just under the surface. In fact, the more I think of pumpkins, the more similarities I can see. Mouth-filling and full with a starchy texture and a creamy sweetness behind the earthiness of a harvest field, this 肉桂茶 makes quite an impression on this rainy October afternoon.

The name of the tea means “cinnamon bark”, perhaps referring to the wonderful aromatic roast of this tea. When I arrived in China, however, I was only vaguely aware of this particular Wuyi oolong. The first character, Ròu, when used by itself can mean “meat”, and when I first encountered a shop selling this tea I was more than a little repulsed by the idea of a “meat tea”. Reassured by my friend that Ròuguì has no connection to dead animals, I was pleasantly surprised to find this mysterious tea which seems to lean back and forth between the depth of Da Hong Pao (大红袍) and the sweetness of Feng Huang Dan Cong (凤凰单丛). 

The shop in which we found this tea was in one of the large tea markets of Shanghai. If you have visited a multiple story indoor mall, the setup is much the same except that all the shops have some sort of connection to tea or teaware. We visited similar markets in Kunming, but the Shanghai variety seem to be more urban in style, with fewer outdoor regions and a more modern appearance with, for example, escalators. 

As this was the first tea market we visited on the east coast of China, we weren’t sure what to expect. Consequently, I sat and drank tea with the women who ran this shop several times over the course of a few hours, leaving frequently to explore the rest of the market. The selection of teaware on offer was remarkable, and upstairs from this particular shop I even discovered what appeared to be a tiny music school for my favorite instrument, the Guqin. Either that or it was a teaware and art store run by Guqin devotees. 

The kind woman who served us tea was very patient with my comings and goings and allowed us to examine and taste several of the teas she had available, stored in large metal tins on the wall. One of the teas we picked, I think perhaps a Da Hong Pao, was a bit too expensive, so I settled on this unique selection, having never owned a Ròuguì before. Two seasons later I am very glad for my purchase!

I infused this tea in my wonderful new small Petr Novak teapot, gong-fu style. Attempting to follow the advice of Stéphane, I did not rinse the leaves first and instead increased the time of the first infusion to about one and a half minutes. The result was quite a roasted cup, which was probably more than I was attempting to invoke. For the second, shorter infusion and thereafter, the sweetness really shone through (starting with about 30 seconds and going up from there). 

Xie Xie, Ming Qiu Cha Yuan.

Tribute to Tie Guan Yin

A friend and one of my first TEAchers, Laura, Gave birth recently to her first son. Laura and her husband, Honza, A Czech man, fell in love on a tea trip with Dobra in 2009. I knew Laura and Honza from being a regular at the teahouse before I was hired (by Laura) After my hiring, I spent a lot of time with my new tea family. We would drink whisky, beer and obviously tea.

These two are wonderful together and I miss having both of them around. This Cha Xi is to welcome in the new life of Thymian as well as cherish the abundance of color in Vermont right now. Can’t wait to see all three of you soon!

2011 Tie Guan Yin (Laura’s Tea name)

A bit about Puer


Tea comes in many different shapes and sizes, most teas come from bushes that are trimmed, some come from larger trees and some come from huge ancient trees.

This Cha Xi is dedicated to that middle tree type, these are known as Arbor trees. They are often part of other plantations, but left to grow to create a different, more special tea. 

These arbor trees are typically in the 80-120 year old range. This particular cake is Chenyunhao Arbor Natural Teacake from 2007. According to the Nei Piao (inner ticket) This tea is grown in the primeval forest of Baiying Shan, Lincang, Yunnan.  

In teahouse, we call this tea Lao Shu Bing Cha (old tree tea cake) with the subtitle wild ancient puer. This is not quite correct but it gives me an opportunity to explain now what the difference is. A true wild tree was never part of a plantation, most ancient trees of 800+ years were found or re-discovered and either left alone or people built shrines and developed plantations around this tree. Such is the case with the 3200 year-old tree I saw 

Most of the younger, Arbor trees were part of old plantations and when those plantations dissolved or were sold, they kept some of the older trees and planted new ones.  

This is from an older batch of 200gr bings that we carried at the teahouse, now the tea is newer (2011) and only comes in 100g mini-bings. The new tea is still fantastic but is tasting a little sharp in the first few notes. 

The 2007 bing carries a velvety warmth of Cedar and Oak. The aroma is somewhere in between mango and peat with a hint of maple sap. The liquor is a light to medium amber and has a long smooth finish (the peaty flavors of a scotch with a strong finish come to mind) 

If you have never tried puer, only like shou (ripe) puer or you haven’t had enough to determine whether or not you enjoy sheng puer, Try a wild or arbor sheng puer. They are warming, mellow and have wonderful aromas. When tasting puer, certain flavors are desirable when described, while some are frowned upon. One of the worst is smoky (this means the tea was improperly stored, the leaves were burned or actually smoked or had some contaminate) The best description is woody (it means the tea came from a good tree, was stored well and doesn’t have any compromised aromas or flavors)  

I hope this helps demystify some confusion about puer types. There will be another post about the different mountains soon! 




2011 Pinglin Bao Zhong

Brewing this in Cha Xi for the early Autumn, sitting by the window with the pink and purple of the season’s last morning glories peeking in. Memories of distant sun-soaked Pinglin are coming out of the pot right along with the tea.

Knowing that the small town of Pinglin near the North-East coast of Taiwan was home to this iconic oolong, but little else, my friends and I muddled our way to the downtown bus that would take us there. When we arrived, we were surprised to find what looked more like a small village than the tourist-friendly tea town we had hoped for. There was even supposed to be a huge tea museum! 

Not dissuaded, we did what we usually did in Taiwan: walked about until we saw some tea and headed toward it. Right next to our bus stop there was a small shop (or house, it was difficult to tell the difference on the streets of Taiwan) that was filled to bursting with big bags of green leaves. After pushing our way toward the back, we were met by a very friendly family. The parents didn’t speak any English, and we had no Chinese to offer them, but we managed to communicate that we were interested in tasting some local oolong. Luckily for us, one of their sons, probably around high-school age, spoke some English and we were able to taste a wide selection of what they had to offer.

It turns out there is quite a variety of taste, even among Bao Zhong (literally meaning “wrapped item”) teas produced by a single family. The oxidation level, date of harvest, the leaf size, and the level of roast all have a noticeable effect on the final product. Since this was the first tea shop in the entire town we visited, we bought a small amount of our favorites and then, emboldened by our success, headed out to see what other treasures we could find.

After several hours of wandering the streets and trying a few other shops (or living rooms?), it became clear that our first stop had been the best all along. 

There was, in fact, a tea museum. It was completely empty of other humans and the only staff we saw were in the small gift shop near the entrance, but it was indeed a storehouse of tea information and examples. The advantage of the lack of people was that we were free to wander the halls all by ourselves with no ticket required. The down side was that it was a little rough around the edges. (It was also one of the many places in Asia where one is expected to bring one’s own toilet paper. Altogether a good life lesson.)

We eventually returned to the first tea shop we had found and purchased some more recently harvested leaves, including this light roast oolong and a Green Bao Zhong for its freshness. As I’ve come to expect from good quality oolongs, this tea has aged well in its simple foil package, possibly improving in the year since its harvest.

Sweet like green grass and honeydew. Gentle roast that joins “tea” to “melon” in my taste memory; it creates a texture and chewiness on the sides of the mouth. Golden-green color. 

Second infusion is more rich and less sweet. Tending toward the sweetness of a good light ale. 

I figured a bit longer in the pot would help to bring back the honeydew. The third infusion takes the sweetness and makes it into a bold statement rather than a gentle brush. Mouth-filling, it brings together the tastes of the previous two. 

About 45 second to one minute infusions with a decent amount of leaves. Brewed in my Yixing pot from Maokong, Taiwan, reserved for light roast oolongs. 

Bai Hao 


Partially inspired by fall, partially by Stephane’s Posts and mostly inspired by my friend Jane from Shanghai sending lots of delicious tea!
Bai Hao is a Taiwanese oolong from Hsinchu that is famous for the bug that bites the leaves, releasing a hormone that oxidizes the leaves while still on the bush. Despite only chewed leaves being selected for harvest, the tea always seems to have a remarkably consistant and beautiful leaf-set.
For me this tea is synonymous with Autumn, a notoriously special time in and around Vermont. The air is crisp, the leaves are changing to copper and gold, the aromas of the soil and trees permeate in every step. Like pumpkin pie, cider and baked squash, Bai Hao is a must this time of year. 
This particular Bai Hao (Eastern Beauty as I received it) came from my friend Jane from Shanghai. She drinks a lot of Taiwanese teas and sent me this tea long with some Dayulin and these teas I posted about in my last Cha Xi. 
As I drank this tea on my porch, I found myself just staring at the tea in my cup and smelling the air. I sometimes caught myself waiting to drink for a couple minutes not realizing how much I enjoyed the aromas that fresh brewed Bai Hao creates and the lovely liquor it produces. I wasn’t even tea drunk(yet) but I was already blissfully absorbed into my Cha Xi. 
The warmth of each cup is present in the honey, cinnamon, menthol and hazelnutty flavors. My tongue detected a bit of a lychee flavor and my nose discovered a hint of rose. The flavors and aromas of this tea aren’t really fully understood until you drink it outside, during a crisp fall day. 
More photos here 

Bai Hao 




Partially inspired by fall, partially by Stephane’s Posts and mostly inspired by my friend Jane from Shanghai sending lots of delicious tea!

Bai Hao is a Taiwanese oolong from Hsinchu that is famous for the bug that bites the leaves, releasing a hormone that oxidizes the leaves while still on the bush. Despite only chewed leaves being selected for harvest, the tea always seems to have a remarkably consistant and beautiful leaf-set.

For me this tea is synonymous with Autumn, a notoriously special time in and around Vermont. The air is crisp, the leaves are changing to copper and gold, the aromas of the soil and trees permeate in every step. Like pumpkin pie, cider and baked squash, Bai Hao is a must this time of year. 

This particular Bai Hao (Eastern Beauty as I received it) came from my friend Jane from Shanghai. She drinks a lot of Taiwanese teas and sent me this tea long with some Dayulin and these teas I posted about in my last Cha Xi

As I drank this tea on my porch, I found myself just staring at the tea in my cup and smelling the air. I sometimes caught myself waiting to drink for a couple minutes not realizing how much I enjoyed the aromas that fresh brewed Bai Hao creates and the lovely liquor it produces. I wasn’t even tea drunk(yet) but I was already blissfully absorbed into my Cha Xi. 

The warmth of each cup is present in the honey, cinnamon, menthol and hazelnutty flavors. My tongue detected a bit of a lychee flavor and my nose discovered a hint of rose. The flavors and aromas of this tea aren’t really fully understood until you drink it outside, during a crisp fall day. 

More photos here 

2010 Shou Mei 寿眉 and 2012 Ba Xian 八仙

寿眉 - A warm, velvety infusion with a rustic depth similar to fall leaves with a mellow sweetness. I have not had Bai Mu Dan in some time so it’s hard to compare. This tea does not wow me, nor disappoint. I think this is why many people enjoy it so much, it’s reliable and sometimes fills that void when you want tea but don’t need to drink your expensive aged oolong or sheng bing from ‘85.  

八仙 - A light and sweet brew that dances delicately on the tongue without overwhelming you with intense fruitiness like other Dan Cong varietals. Although not as durable or fragrant, the first three infusions are treasure enough for the palate. 

My new Petr Novak pot (and Novak jar and cup)

Petr Novak is a Czech potter who blogs about tea as well. I am lucky to be surrounded by his work at teahouse. I have the joy of using handmade pottery that not only was made for tea, but also made by someone who knows tea well enough to make both beautiful and practical teaware. 

His style is stoneware with a Japanese wabi-sabi influence. Each piece unique with a difference in a splotch of glaze or a stripe carved into the side of a shiboridashi.

Two years ago I bought my parents a teapot of his ( the cup I used for this Cha Xi matches that pot) I also purchased one of his jars (seen in this Cha Xi as well) from Stephane Erler last year.

There’s something rustic and earthy about most of his teaware that prompted me to take my tea outside. The weather also happened to be a perfect autumn day in Vermont, so everything was lining up quite nicely. I arranged the Cha Xi on a tree stump that I have grand plans to turn into a tea table. I opted out of a Cha Bu in order to see the notches and shapes on the stump.  

The tea was a sample of 1998 Sheng Puer - Gan Xiang Jiu Yun - From Chawangshop.com ~This 400g aged raw puerh cake is somewhat rare and very interesting. Yunnan large leaf tea has been used, harvested in the late 1990s stored in a cool, dry place for about 6 or 7 years. In 2004, Kunming tea businessmen found this tea in Lincang and after two years, in 2006, they made the tea into 400g cakes and 250g bricks.



The material is not selected - it consists of leaves with long stalks. When the cake is unwrapped, the leaf surface is shiny and smooth; that’s a good sign, it means the tea is rich in pectin. The taste is very unique for a raw puerh tea, a bit like 1990s aged oolong.



The tea does taste unique, similar to a 1987 Hualien oolong I have. The ‘87 has a more roasted flavor, like a baked root vegetable. The Puer tastes sweeter and a little more on the smoky yet fruity end of the spectrum. What really surprised me was that even at 14 years old, the tea was still a little sharp. I think the dry storage maintains some of that while the wetter storage tends to bring the teas down to the more grounded and smooth tastes that Shou puers try to emulate. 


It’s not my favorite tea but I wonder how the new pot affected the tea. If I used my aged sheng teapot I would probably have different results, maybe smoother infusions.


I’m looking forward to trying out different teas in this pot, I’m thinking some rolled Oolongs or maybe some Hong Cha will be my next venture. 

Recent Cha Xi



I have been drinking plenty of tea but something hasn’t been inspiring me in the writing department so I haven’t been posting. If you follow me on instagram then you’ve probably seen some of these pics already.

Teas I’ve been drinking:

Yixing Bi Luo Chun

Liu An Gua Pian

2009 Shou Dragon Xinghai Mini Bing

2002 Gedeng Sheng Bing

2010 Da Hong Pao

Revisiting a Cha Xi I filmed in my old tea room. Tea is 2007 Zhao Li Qiao, a Shou Zhuan Cha from Dobra Cajovna