The beginning hours of drinking this ripe, dark viscous Puerh was as if I had wandered alone, yet feeling watched over and safe, into a heavily forested, humid mountainside. I taste soil, damp wood, the natural scent of organic decay. I feel intrigued and confused, turned on and turned off, uncertain of how to feel, just lost, yet happily and full of curiosity in a vast lush world of trees and fresh living earth. There is no musty attic or fetid basement here, this is an outdoor wonder-world of distinction. I have no idea if I 'like it' or not. Doesn't really seem to even be a valid line of questioning. This is not the time for questions, this is a time to teleport to somewhere I have never been. I close my eyes, sway a little, my husband asks me if I am OK. He refuses my kind offer of taking a second sip of this transportational magical brew I now began to rant about to him. (Dude thinks I am a witch, I just know it. A neurotic, Jewish, liquid-obsessed witch. God only knows what my twelve year old thinks.)
To try to bring my husband in on the curiosity I tell him I think many connoisseur of aged whiskeys, bourbons, whatever, are turning to teas of this sort with open hearts and passion, but honestly, I might be making this up.
Ah well, it's a solo journey, is it not? Be it tea or life itself, we can share what others allow us to share and be there when we can for others to share their own journey's but ultimately my taste-buds, memory-triggers and passions are my solitary own. And with teas like this, it is sufficient. As the Jews of old say,'Dayenu!' (Enough!')
The first two steeps are at near boiling point and are flash rinses, so dark! The smell coming from my pot is the truly transporting agent, the taste is quite aggressive compared to the subtle hints of all those dark forests the leaves at the bottom of my pot, steaming and waiting for more water are whispering about.
Here is the third brew.
Darker than coffee and full of a chi that makes me feel a third eye opening up in the middle of my forehead. OK, not really, but there is a definite intense buzz coming on and it is centered right in-between my eyebrows, my sinus get very open and I begin a light sweat. Two more steeps and I am done for awhile.
I pick the journey back up long after supper, after sundown, and the brew is lighter, milder but still with its presence of intensity. Two quick steeps and I leave it for the night, cleansing my palate with a little Bao Zhong before bed.
I awake at 6am and head right for the kettle. I don't know which steep this will be for this hearty Bulang Shan Shou, I am guessing nine.
It's a fine way to start this Sunday morning but no quick trips into a humid wonderland of forested mountains await me, it is simply a nice, slightly sweet, dark amber tea now. Two more steeps and I am ready to bid the leaves good bye. A 250 gram brick of this is still available for only $30 from Crimson Lotus and I am thinking seriously about buying, what would be, my first brick or cake Puerh purchase. For those interested it is called 2008 Bulang Shan Imperial Grade Ripe Puerh and the Crimson Lotus website has more information about it, including the owner, Glens thoughts and a great video link to TeaDB where they talk about this tea and Glen shows the boys his Jian Shui pots, which I wasn't expecting to see and which thrilled me to no end, being a new Jian Shui obsessed pot owner.
Off to brew one last steep of this Puerh and then my sample is truly gone. I am relieved to have finally had a dark Puerh that I could 'handle' and am now ready to venture further onto the path of Puerhs to see where else it will lead me. I am even more open to finding myself in an old man forgotten sock in a mildewing basement with charcoal smoke stinging my eyes and a mouthful of shoe leather. Whatever. Let's just go!