How do you raise up an underdog tea region?
A sumptuous oxidized oolong + Anna Ye on the state of Việtnamese tea.
Champagne oolong for my real friends
The tea: Champagne Oolong, sold by Anna Ye Tea. $92 for 4oz.
Plants have complex immune responses to injury, just like us. When the tiny leafhopper insect bites down on a tea leaf to feed on its sap, the tea plant directs hormones to the wound to ward off infection. It turns out that some of these hormones taste good to us, lending a ripe fruit flavor to the leaf. This immune response, combined with oxidation triggered by the injury, is essential to making a distinctive oolong called dongfang meiren, or Oriental Beauty. (I prefer the name bai hao—”white tip”—for reasons that I hope are obvious, but you should know what the tea is called in the trade.) It resembles a fine black tea in appearance and flavor, boasting a heady floral perfume and a honeyed richness akin to sweet sherry.
This highly oxidized oolong has become a signature of Taiwan’s tea culture since its development in the last ~150 years. More recently, it’s found a home in Việt Nam, where farmers and leafhoppers collaborate to make versions of bai hao for the export market, usually at a fraction of the price of Taiwanese leaf. Much of this bai hao winds up in Taiwan, where it’s relabeled and sold as Taiwanese tea. There’s a similar scam in the olive oil business: Italian companies import oil from less prestigious regions like Spain and sell it as Tuscany’s finest. Pay attention to your labels, yes, but remember that labels can lie!
The source: Camellia sinensis, the tea plant, is native to Việt Nam, and tea cultivation thrives there. Most Việtnamese tea is grown with a focus on yield more than delicate flavor, but tea educator Anna Ye has built her three-year-old business on the nation’s emerging specialty industry. She wants to promote Việtnamese tea on its own merits, rather than as a cheap substitute for more famous brands overseas. This has made her an ambassador on two fronts. To Western drinkers, she reps an underdog tea region with a unique culture. To farmers in Việt Nam, she offers access to a different market with higher margins, and incentive for value-added agriculture and skillful processing. Anna and I met years ago when we worked at the same tea company. I’ve admired the breadth and quality of her Việtnamese tea finds, and am excited to see how she helps the Việtnamese tea industry establish itself on the world stage.
To brew: I like to make bai hao style oolongs almost like black tea, with larger vessels and longer steeps to draw out a rich, honey-sweet cup. In this case that’s 3 grams of fluffy leaf in a pre-heated 150 milliliter pot (1g/50ml), brewed with boiling water for 2 minutes. Subsequent brews can go longer; you should get at least three to four really nice steeps of this tea. I’m not big on tasting notes, but Anna’s are right on the money. The flavors of rose, lychee, and jammy grapes stand out to me. I also get a Turkish delight vibe that I’ve only found in a nice Darjeeling. If you’re making a cute Valentine’s Day meal for someone, this sumptuous tea should engender lovey-dovey feelings.
Selling the story of Việtnamese tea
I used to dismiss teas from “developing” regions as a pale imitation of the really good stuff. Why drink an experimental black tea from Colombia when I can get a tried-and-true version from Chinese companies with generations of experience, honed for a more established market? However as I’ve learned more about specialty food and drink, I’ve accepted three truths:
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