Dark Roast Anxi Rou Gui

Finally getting around to trying this 5g sample I received what seems a lifetime ago. I found it near the back of my cabinet in a vacuum sealed container.

Upon opening, it had that lovely roasted oolong smell. As it was steeping, I got a very heavy cinnamon aroma which was interesting. Some of that flavor came through in the liquid. There is also a lighter roast flavor than I was expecting based on the scent of the leaves. Though, full disclosure, it is probably affected by my haphazard brewing method. I was putting away groceries and helping my toddler who fractured his toe a few days ago so my brew method was "pour hot water in kettle on top of leaves, smell while brewing, pour out some liquid after 20 seconds to sample, let brew another 15 or so seconds and then pour out liquid from leaves. Not super scientific but the tea tastes good enough, if not a bit weak.

Either way I’m happy to be enjoying a dark roast oolong today.

Upon

Spring 2016 harvest,
After really enjoying my last dark roasted oolong from master zhang, im quite interested to try this, also I’ve got like.. $250 worth in tea-related things in transit to me right now lol I’m losing my patience waiting for all of it

there’s kind of a dry burnt roasty .. woody earthy autumn leafy dry leaf aroma,
in my warmed gaiwan it’s a lot of the same, but there’s this.. chocolate, hazelnut thing behind, with some toothpastey mintiness .. This doesn’t seem like it’ll be as pleasant as the last one. too autumn-leafy, but hey we’ll give it a go,
I smelled the gaiwan after the first steep and it was like gross burnt tar, and like.. just like kitchen smoke, like seared food, and then it just sort of melted away to this lovely sweet brown sugar aroma.. That was a weird experience.
So I do get a lot of the autumn leaf in the taste, a very roasty kind of thing, again with the same sort of roastiness of a dan cong behind all of the dark charred flavours, with a very strong cooling sensation, there’s some sort of floralness and maybe some apricot notes, there’s a lingering astringency that leaves the front part of my tongue dry
I get a lot of honey and brown sugar in the second steep’s aroma. The autumn leaf is already starting to fade in the second steep, there’s definitely some mango as well, it kinda tastes like a mi lan xiang dancong to me right now, just.. over-roasted and burnt, and the cooling is very strong.
I’m very back and forth, there’s a lot of autumn leaves obviously, which I’m finding.. really unpleasant, but there’s some really nice feelings and a few good flavours and aromas occasionally, but sometimes it even smells like.. garbage,
It’s very slowly mellowing down, I think…. I get some sort of lemon on the fifth steep, but I think i’ve decided that I don’t like this. It’s too woody and burnt tasting and it’s all the things I always find wrong with dark roasted oolongs, there’s a bit of redemption in the mouthfeel and in the later aromas – peach, apricot, lemon, some hazelnut and chocolate, but I can’t get past the taste, and in the end that’s all that matters

I think I’m done with the session, if you’re reading this because you want to get some dark roasted oolong from verdant, go get the Qilan instead.

Rou Gui is generally known as a strip style oolong from the Wuyi Mountains, yet it is grown and harvested elsewhere. I have noticed that Verdant, or at least the individual tea producers who supply them, have gotten into experimenting with the effects of different terroir and different production methods in the production of some of their oolongs. This tea and the Dark Roast Anxi Qilan are both Anxi County takes on traditional Wuyi oolongs, while the new Wuyi Jin Guanyin is a Wuyi take on a new Anxi cultivar. As with Qilan, I have come to discover that I tend to prefer Rou Gui as produced in the traditional manner.

I prepared this tea gongfu style. After a quick rinse (about 4-5 seconds for this one), I steeped 5 grams of loose tea leaves in 4 ounces of 208 F water for 10 seconds. I followed Verdant Tea’s gongfu method very closely this time around. I conducted 9 subsequent infusions, increasing the steep time by 2 seconds per infusion. Steep times for these infusions were as follows: 12 seconds, 14 seconds, 16 seconds, 18 seconds, 20 seconds, 22 seconds, 24 seconds, 26 seconds, and 28 seconds.

Prior to the rinse, I noted that the dry leaves emitted a mild aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg with a light vegetal undertone. After the rinse, I noted a strong spicy aroma. The first infusion produced lovely aromas of cinnamon, nutmeg, honey, and flowers. In the mouth, however, the taste of the tea did not follow the aroma. I got strong notes of grass, basil, and Buttercrunch lettuce underscored by mild traces of cinnamon, nutmeg, honey, marigold, and chrysanthemum. The next several infusions heavily emphasized aromas and flavors of honey, chrysanthemum, marigold, cinnamon, and nutmeg underscored by lettuce, basil, and grass. At this point, I began to note that the tea was settling and fading faster than I would have liked. The final series of infusions began to wash out quickly, though I could still detect distinct impressions of grass, basil, lettuce, marigold, and spices underscored by traces of honey and minerality.

To be perfectly honest, this oolong did not do much for me. Again, I tend to like oolongs produced in the traditional manner. It was quite obvious to me that the influence of Daping’s terroir produced a much milder, more floral tea, and that is not really what I look for in a Rou Gui. I can understand why some people may like this tea-I suppose that if you find the spice notes of traditional Wuyi Rou Gui overpowering, then a milder, smoother version such as this may hit the spot. For me, however, I just do not see the point. I’m glad I had the opportunity to try this experiment, but I think I will stick with traditionally produced Wuyi Rou Gui variants from here on out.

This is my second oolong from Verdant. It comes in cute little red plastic bags, each containing 5 ounces. They say Tieguanyintea, along with Chinese characters that I can’t read. I assume Master Zhang used a Tieguanyin bag because that’s what he grows the most of. I know it is actually Rougui because of the aroma.

I bought 25 ounces, five measures. I’m on my last measure now.

I’ve typically been drinking it in a 10-ounce teacup, making two steepings at a time in a gaiwan, pouring them into the cup, and then drinking them. Ten seconds, then about five seconds more each time.

The leaves are rolled tightly in the Anxi style. The flavor is very dark and deep. The aroma is spicy. I guess it must be the aroma of Chinese cinnamon, but I haven’t smelled that before, as far as I know. It’s slightly reminiscent of coffee with its bracing aroma, but not as bitter. A big contrast with the light roast qilan that I’ve been drinking on alternate days.

Occasionally I notice a slight floral aroma reminiscent of paperwhite narcissus. I like that scent myself, though I know other people don’t.