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I bought 25g of this tea at the end of 2015, and this is my last session with it. In the past, I steeped it Western style, with infusions of around 2, 4, and 6 minutes, and got tangy apple cider notes that made it perfect for colder weather. This time, I steeped my remaining 4g in a 120 ml teapot for 30, 25, 30, 50, 90, and 240 seconds.

Gongfu’ed, this seems more like a black tea than it did Western style. I get apple, sourness, tangy sweetness, and black-tea-like tannens on the first steep. It also has that gaba flavour I’m still not sure I enjoy. The second steep intensifies the apple and reduces the sourness, adding some floral and nutmeg touches.

Nothing much changes in the third and fourth steeps, though the spice note gets slightly stronger. It fades in the fifth steep, and by the sixth, the tannens are the dominant flavour. It’s worth noting that I don’t feel any effects from the GABA.

I think this tea works better Western style. Although it’s been compared to Bai Hao, possibly because they both have fruity flavours, the sourness makes it less appealing. I’ll probably go with Guei Fei instead if I want a less expensive alternative. Still, this was better than some other gaba teas I’ve had and it’s a decent easy drinker.

Fall seems to be the time for clearing out my older teas. In March 2016, I signed up for a deeply discounted subscription box from Ides Tea, then canceled after a month both because subsequent boxes would have been expensive without the deal and because my first shipment hadn’t arrived yet. I kind of feel guilty since the company is now no longer in business.

From what I remember, most of the samples they sent were good. Their Li Shan and Bai Hao were fantastic; their Sun Moon Lake Black, Jade Oolong, and Tie Guan Yin were tasty; and their Dong Ding was decent. Sadly, this Jin Xuan also falls into the decent category. I steeped 6 g of tea in a 120 ml teapot for 25, 20, 25, 30, 45, 60, and 240 seconds.

The first steep is delicately floral with notes of what I’m going to call lilac. There are also hints of butter, corn, and vegetables. Even though the second steep was for only 20 seconds, it’s unusually astringent. I always wondered what people were talking about when they said that Jin Xuans taste like popcorn, but now I can see it, especially in the aftertaste. That combination of vegetal, corn, and butteriness really does evoke popcorn.

In the third steep, the florals are starting to fade and something like arugula is emerging. The astringency is back to normal. The fourth steep gets even more vegetal, which is a sign that this tea might be finishing early. And, as expected, by the sixth steep, the only flavour left is vegetal.

This Jin Xuan is okay, but I’m not sad to see it go. I just opened the sample package a couple weeks ago, so I don’t think it’s due to age.

I’ve had this oolong for about a year and am nearing the end of the bag. According to Eco-Cha’s website, this is a combination of the heirloom Tie Guan Yin and Jin Xuan varietals, processed and roasted in the traditional manner. I steeped 6 g of tea in an inexpensive 120 ml clay pot I recently bought in Chinatown, which actually does seem to take the edge off roasted oolongs. I used 200F water for two steeps of 30 seconds, four steeps of 40 seconds, two steeps of 50 seconds, and a couple longer infusions.

The first steep is dominated by Graham crackers, with orchids, smoke, and honey in the background. The tea gets smokier and tangier in the second steep. I can imagine it being roasted over an open flame, although that’s probably not what happened. In spite of the smoke, it’s sweet, substantial, and comforting, with a Graham cracker and honey aftertaste that lasts for minutes.

Steeped at 40 seconds, the Graham crackers morph into wood and caramel, but the smoke, florals, and honey stick around. There’s a bit of a bite to it now at the end of the sip. Steep four is nearly identical. By steep five, the smoke is beginning to dissipate and there’s a grassy note in the aftertaste. (Could this be the Jin Xuan?) The tea gets softer and drier over the next few steeps until it starts losing flavour in the tenth.

This is the ultimate autumn tea. You can tell it was made with care because the roast adds to it rather than making it one-dimensional. I’m not sure how similar it is to the Tie Guan Yin Eco-Cha offers in their regular line-up, but I’ll definitely consider giving it a try.

I’ve discovered that the secret to bringing the cinnamon out of this tea is to use a lot of it. I used to put about 4 or 5 g of tea in a 120 ml vessel, but adding a couple extra grams makes all the difference. I steeped 7 g of tea in my 120 ml teapot at around 195F for 10, 12, 15, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 120, and 160 seconds.

In the pot, the dry leaves smell like cereal, roasted spices, and char. The first steep has initial impressions of wood, roast, cereal, honey, and char, with the cinnamon lurking at the end of the sip. The cinnamon is more roasted and mellow than spicy, and I might not have classified it as such if I hadn’t been looking for it. The tea is a bit drying and has a reasonably long aftertaste.

The roast really ramps up in steep 2. I don’t think I oversteeped it, but it sure tastes that way. Gone are the cereal and sweetness, and the cinnamon is relegated to the aftertaste.

Steep 3, at 15 seconds, isn’t so roasty, and the original notes come through again. Still, this tea is a little too roasted for me. The sweetness gradually diminishes over the next three steeps until, by steep 6, it’s not nearly as complex. The cinnamon has virtually disappeared by this point. By steep 10, when I called an end to the session, the tea was just charcoal water.

This Rou Gui was good, with a nice cinnamon note if I use enough tea. However, I’m just not as fond of Wuyi oolongs as I am of greener ones.

I was going through my tea stash and realized that I’d accidentally created “aged” sencha. I bought this in 2014 or 2015 in one of my first loose-leaf orders, probably brewed it incorrectly, and promptly pushed it to the back of my tea cupboard. Since this review isn’t really fair and is more of an experiment in what not to do with delicate Japanese greens, I haven’t rated this tea.

In an effort to get rid of my sample, I steeped 5 g of leaf in my 120 ml Bankoyaki kyusu; I used 158F water for steeps of 20, 10, and 30 seconds, then upped the temperature to 175F for 45 seconds, one minute, and three minutes.

This sencha has a large number of longer needles alongside the regular small pieces. In the pot, it smells surprisingly fresh and buttery. The first steep is buttery, mellow, and somewhat floral, with little astringency or umami. However, the butteriness has an odd, kind of stale quality, which doesn’t bode well for future steeps.

The second steep is more smooth, brothy, and astringent, and though the off note is still there, it’s less noticeable. This isn’t bad. However, the third steep, at 30 seconds, increases both the astringency and the off flavours. It does have a nice, grassy aftertaste that kind of redeems it.

The fourth steep at 175F eliminates the butteriness altogether and turns into astringent asparagus soup. The profile changes again in the fifth steep, taking on the floral, buttery qualities of earlier ones. This marks the end of the session, as the sixth steep diminishes in flavour.

For a tea that was at least three years old, this sencha performed well. Perhaps due to my unusual brewing parameters, the flavour changed dramatically from steep to steep, generally improving as the session progressed. I’d call this experiment a success!

I received this tea as a free sample in my last Camellia Sinensis order. I followed the instructions on their website, steeping 4 teaspoons of leaf in 120 ml of 175F water for 30, 20, 40, 70, 120, 160, and 300 seconds.

These downy white buds are unique. The first steep is herbaceous, with notes of sage, basil, and other cooking-type herbs. There’s an underlying earthiness and sweetness that sort of balances it out, but the herbs are the dominant flavour. The second 20-second steep is quite like the first, but the third introduces more complexity as the sweetness increases. As a previous reviewer mentioned, the creaminess and sweetness make it taste kind of like marshmallows.

By the fourth steep, I can understand why the website states that this tea is spicy. The sage and other herbaceous notes, however, are still pretty overpowering. The tea peters out by the seventh steep, though I suspect I could pull a couple more out of it.

While I won’t be reaching for this tea regularly, it was fun to try. It has a much different taste profile than other white teas.

I picked this up on sale from this company’s Kensington Market location. I think it’s from winter 2016, though I’m not entirely sure. The salesperson kindly opened the vacuum-sealed package to let me smell the tea, so regardless, it’s in very good condition. I steeped about 5 g of leaf in a 120 ml teapot using 195F water for 25, 20, 30, 30, 45, 60, 180, and 240 seconds, followed by another long steep.

This Li Shan is buttery and floral, with interesting mineral and cooked spinach notes in the background. It’s also one of the sweeter ones I’ve had, with a sugarcane quality in the first four or so steeps. The vegetal mixed with the sweet makes for an interesting combination. Even steeping at two minutes, the florals aren’t completely gone and the tea isn’t too grassy or bitter.

This is a solid Li Shan that I’ll have no trouble finishing, but possibly because of my brewing, it didn’t shine for me. I’ll have to try some of their other teas, such as the Pinglin Red that Indigobloom reviewed a while ago.

One final note: Why are small (80-100 ml) plain porcelain pots so darn expensive? Is it just because they’re almost impossible to find? I ask because I saw them for around $70, and while they looked nice, I don’t think they were handmade or particularly special.

Sipdown! I thought there was a little too much leaf for one ordinary session, but not enough for two, so I dumped everything into my 120 ml teapot. It ended up being about two-thirds full of gorgeous golden buds, which told me I was in this for the long haul. Using 195F water, I steeped this tea for 8, 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 120, and 180 seconds

This session is similar to previous ones, although stretched out over a longer number of steeps. The first two steeps are milk chocolatey and sweet, and the tea gets darker and breadier as the session progresses. After the tea is finished, my cup smells like it’s been coated with baker’s chocolate. A nice thick mouthfeel shows up around the fifth steep and sticks around for a while, though the tea starts to get drying around the tenth infusion.

This was one of my best purchases from Yunnan Sourcing in 2016, and I’m sad to see it go.

Since I generally like oolongs from the Shan Lin Xi region, I eagerly picked this up when I ordered from Taiwan Tea Crafts almost a year ago. It says something about my tea stash that I’m only getting to it now. I steeped about 6 grams of leaf in a 120 ml vessel for 25, 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, and 90 seconds, plus one more long infusion.

The dry leaf smells floral, sweet, and full of coconut and tropical fruits. These flavours show up nicely in the first steep, though they’re kind of muted, probably because the leaves haven’t opened up fully. They still aren’t fully open in the second steep, which is unusual even for tightly rolled oolongs.

I pushed the third steep a few seconds longer to open up the leaves, and it had the desired effect. The coconut, florals, and sweetness are much more pronounced. The body is light and smooth. By the fourth steep, I agree with a previous reviewer that this is like coconut cream pie. Yum!

The fifth 50-second steep is getting vegetal, but it’s still very enjoyable, and I get a hint of vanilla along with the coconut. The tea peters out by the seventh steep.

When this tea is good, it’s excellent, but between the first two weaker steeps and the last couple vegetal ones, its peak is relatively short. I’ll have to lengthen the steep times to see if I can get more out of it.

This is a good one! I’ve had it before and was impressed by its complexity, so I thought it would be the perfect sendoff before my weekend away with no gongfu equipment. I used around 5 grams in a 120 ml teapot, with steeps of 30, 20, 25, 30, 45, and 60 seconds, followed by steeps of 1:30, 3, 5, and 10 minutes.

Many oolongs have a faint first steep, but not this one. I get aromas and tastes of citrus and dried fruit, florals (Lilacs? Gardenias? I’m bad at picking out floral notes.), butter, menthol, spinach, and lots of other things I can’t put a name to. This tea is remarkably smooth and has an aftertaste that lasts several minutes. By the third steep, I’m just sitting and savouring that aftertaste. Caramel notes also seem to be emerging, and the dried fruit and citrus are getting stronger.

The fourth steep starts to move into more vegetal territory, though all the other flavours are still distinct. This tea also keeps getting sweeter, though the nuances are beginning to fade by steep six and the gorgeous aftertaste is gone. Even after ten steeps, it’s worth drinking.

I thoroughly enjoyed this tea, and while the price is a bit high, it’s a wonderful occasional treat.