Santa Cruz Tea Angst

I’m usually a pretty positive person, but I can’t believe how difficult it is to find a decent cup of tea in Santa Cruz. I’ve been singing the praises of kukicha lately because the taste resembles that of gyokuro without the cost or the water cooling nonsense. I had been ordering tea from a great little tea house back in Vermont, but because my stash is dwindling, I figured it was time to replenish it locally.

Our first stop was at Chaikhana Tea Culture. Now I realize that this shop specializes in Chinese pu-erh teas, but was a bit surprised when the proprietor told me that kukicha is hard to come by and implied that I could find it with low-grade teas in the supermarket. Yes, kukicha is made from the stems, stalks and twigs of sencha, but is surely not to be compared with tea dust or fannings. Instead, he then offered me roasted kukicha, which tastes more like bancha than the sweet, grassiness of gyokuro.

Unsatisfied we made our way to Asana Teas. I inquired about their kukichas but the gentleman behind the counter confused my request with kokeicha, a man-made tea with needle-like leaves formed from powdered tea. No kuckicha, but surprisingly they carry gyokuro. Overcome with disappointment and desperation, I decided it was time treat myself to a pot of gyokuro to soothe the pain of not finding my precious tea. But I really should have known better because the tea was stored in an oversized canister and the leaves lacked the typical dark grassy green color and sweet aroma that one would expect.

A few minutes later my very large pot of tea arrived, and the same gentleman informed me that the tea had already been steeping for about 1-3/4 minutes and should steep for another 2 minutes longer. Panicking I poured the tea into my equally oversized cup and discovered the temperature of the water to be about 190 degrees. I was too late, as the leaves had stewed. Lifting the lid from the teapot I found a cramped diffusing area, not allowing the leaves sufficient room to expand. In two short minutes my $10 pot of tea was ruined.

I understand that this was probably just some kid from the University working a part-time job, but I cannot believe that the owners of a tea house would not school their employees in the correct ways to make a cup or pot of tea. The use of thermometers, timers and teaware appropriate to the types of tea would be a simple solution to this problem. And, to all those people that are new to tea or who may not know better, what they think is already a great cup of tea, when prepared and served correctly, would blow their minds.

How To Brew Tieguanyin

I can confidently say that I now consume more tea than water. Most of the time I brew up a variety of Japanese and Chinese green teas to suit my mood, but every now and then I crave something a little different. On those occasions I break out my gong fu teapot and brew a few pots of tieguanyin.

It is recommended that you use the small, traditional, porous Yixing teapot for gong fu tea. According to folklore, if you use one of these teapots for 20 years, you will be able to brew tea just by pouring in hot water! The folks over at Ya-Ya’s Tea-Board describe how to create your own gong fu tea ceremony:


1. Heat fresh water to the desired temperature (~85°C/185°F for most oolongs, boiling for most pu-erhs) and display the dry leaves (optional)

2. Place cups and brewing vessel on your tea-tray or a shallow bowl. Preheat the gaiwan or Yixing pot and cups with hot water from the inside and pour some hot water over the outside as well.

3. Empty all and fill brewing vessel with a lot of tea leaves (generally about 1/3 to 3/4 full!).

4. Washing/waking up the leaves: Fill brewing vessel with hot water, close lid and pour hot water over the top (this helps to keep the temperature just right). Empty after 5-15 seconds. Pour away this first infusion, it isn’t for drinking. It’s intended to rinse dust off the leaves and helps to re-hydrate the leaves (waking up).

5. First infusion: Fill brewing vessel with hot water again to the brim, replace lid and pour hot water on top. Steep for 10-30 seconds (depending on tea and personal preferences). Pour infusion into the cups in a circular fashion, each one a bit at a time; DO NOT fill them one at a time since you’ll end up with different strength tea in each one. Alternatively, pour all tea into a serving pitcher and fill cups with this pitcher (Taiwanese method). OPTIONAL: Fill smelling cups first, empty them into the drinking cups and smell the empty smelling cup (this step is there to separate the smell of the infusion from the taste that inevitably involves our sense of smell).

6. Repeat step 5 as long as you enjoy the flavour of the tea. You will have to adjust the water temperature and steeping time for later infusions (a slight increase from steeping to steeping).

When brewing tieguanyin at work, I use a slightly larger teapot with a 7 ounce capacity. I heat the water to 85°C/185°F and infuse about 2 tablespoons of loose tea for 1 minute. I can usually get 4-6 infusions out of the tea before it starts to lose the full-bodied, floral taste that lingers on the tongue and down the back of the throat.

Iron Goddess of Mercy

Tea and Buddhism share much of the same beginnings, spreading in popularity together around 700 AD. So, it isn’t surprising that tea myths draw upon the gods and goddesses of the Buddhist pantheon.

The oolong, tieguanyin, celebrates who else, but Guan Yin. The story of the origins of this beloved oolong is as follows:

Deep in the heart of Fujian’s Anxi County there was a rundown temple that held inside an iron statue of Guan Yin, the Bodhisattva of Mercy. Every day, on his walk to his tea fields a poor farmer named Mr. Wei would pass by and reflect on the worsening condition of the temple.

Something has to be done, thought Mr. Wei. But he did not have the means to repair the temple because he was poor.

Instead the farmer brought a broom and some incense from his home. He swept the temple clean and lit the incense as an offering to Guan Yin. “It’s the least I can do,” he thought to himself.

Twice a month for many months, he repeated the same task. Cleaning and lighting incense. One night, Guan Yin appeared to him in a dream. She told him of a cave behind the temple where a treasure awaited him. He was to take the treasure for himself, but also to share it with others.

In the cave, the farmer found a single tea shoot. He planted it in his field and nurtured it into a large bush, of which the finest tea was produced. He gave cuttings of this rare plant to all his neighbors and began selling the tea under the name Tie Guan Yin, Iron Bodhisattva of Mercy.

Over time, Mr. Wei and all his neighbors prospered. The rundown temple of Guan Yin (Bodhisattva of Mercy) was repaired and became a beacon for the region. And Mr. Wei took joy in his daily trip to his tea fields, never failing to stop in appreciation of the beautiful temple. (From Wikipedia.)

Gyokuro: Precious Dew

I never thought that Cliff, my huz and avid Capital Grounds French Roast coffee drinker, would ever turn me onto a new tea. We had stopped into Dobra Teahouse to blow some time and Cliff found this gem on the menu:

GYOKURO KYOTO: An excellent, very distinguished Japanese green tea. Its delicious taste and fresh, grassy scent of spring offer a touch of heaven in your cup. This tea is one of the most valued products of the Nippon islands. It is picked by hand in specially shaded fields and guarantees a rare experience, enhanced by an original method of preparation. Dark green, flat, subtle leaves of uniform size give a fresh grassy aroma and a gourmet taste. Gyokuro tea is much prized for the characteristically strong taste that is especially pronounced when it is carefully brewed in miniature infusion bowls. It is usual to make three infusions from the same leaves, allowing the superior quality of this tea to be fully enjoyed.

Gyokuro is Japan’s finest tea, and is traditionally reserved for special occasions and to serve to guests. As soon as the tea begins to bud in the beginning of spring, the tea bushes covered with bamboo, reed or canvas mats to shade the plants by 90%. The greatly reduced light for about 20 days, causes reduced tannin levels (bitterness), but increased chlorophyll levels resulting in the characteristic dark green leaves with a sweet, mild flavor.

At harvest time, the most tender leaves and buds are gathered by hand and are immediately steamed to seal in the flavor and to prevent fermentation. Then the leaves are fluffed and pressed until only 30% of their original moisture remains. Finally the leaves are rolled until they form emerald needles, and are sorted to remove any stems or damaged leaves.

A Tea Taster’s Vocabulary

Much like describing the qualities of wine or coffee, there are a number of terms used to describe the subtle nuances in flavor and appearance, as well as detectable defects, in tea. Some of the most used terms to describe brewed tea while tea tasting are defined below.

Aroma: This refers to how brewed tea smells.

Body: Describes how the brewed tea feels on the tongue. Delicate white tea will seem to instantly evaporate, where as a full-bodied black tea will linger.

Brassy: Bitter taste. This is a processing defect caused by not allowing the leaves for black tea to wither long enough.

Brisk: A pleasing and slightly tangy taste from a well-fermented and well-fired tea.

Burnt: Burnt taste. This is caused by overfiring, and is undesirable.

Course: Acidic and slightly bitter taste.

Crisp: Taste quickly disappears on the tongue. Very desirable characteristic.

Earthy: Slight moldy taste, caused by underfiring.

Greenish: Brewed tea is bright green in color. Not desirable, caused by either under-rolling or under-fermentation.

Malty: Malty flavor, desirable quality found in well-made teas. Tastes like steamed vegetables: slightly sweet and/or citrusy.

Mellow: Smooth, pleasant and rounded, opposite of greenish.

Smoky: Slight taste of smoke or tar. An example of a smoky tea is Lapsang souchang, in which the heat for drying is produced by the burning of pine.

Sweet: Pleasant taste, often smooth and fruity.

Thin: A brewed tea with little strength. Most commonly due to under-rolling, too high of temperature while rolling or allowing to wither for too long.

Vegetal: Desirable characteristic of green teas. Taste similar to steamed asparagus or slightly grassy.