Showing newest 10 of 11 posts from November 2009. Show older posts
Showing newest 10 of 11 posts from November 2009. Show older posts

30 November 2009

Château Belá 2004




It’s a natural instinct for a Polish wine drinker to closely follow the vinous progresses of our immediate neighbours, Saxony, Bohemia, Slovakia, the Ukraine, as well as our pre-1939 neighbours such as Romania and pre-1772 ones including Hungary and Moldavia. Of all these countries, Slovakia has been delivering the sorest disappointments. Despite the obvious availability of good terroirs progress has been very slow. Shopping randomly in a wine shop in Bratislava or leading wine town Modra, you’re guaranteed to bump into a record-high amount of faulty and unexciting bottles.

How much Slovakia is missing in terms of quality has been consistently demonstrated since 2001 by Egon Müller, Germany’s – and for some, the world’s – leading Riesling vintner. Through family affairs Müller has taken over some 20 hectares in the south of the country, on the Danube and the Hungarian border (Štúrovo is the nearby city and wine appellation). The estate of Château Belá has been delivering a lovely off-dry Riesling, or Rizling Rýnsky as it’s called locally, with plenty of minerality and personality. 

The 2004 vintage I’m tasting today belongs to the sweeter wines produced here (2005 and 2007 are nearly dry). Its structure, in fact, is very peculiar: it has plenty of sugar on the level of a German Auslese or Alsatian vendange tardive but double the amount of acidity of those styles. The result is a fabulously bold, searing style of wine that’s difficult to classify. The aromatic spectrum is very varietal – stone fruit, citrus and honey – with plenty of minerality wrapped around the acidic backbone. And with this acidity, it’s hardly surprising this wine is ageing so well. This 2004 vintage is already showing quite a mature bouquet of wax, dried herbs, cool cellar (the elusive German Firne aroma) but on the palate there is huge lemony freshness. It’s really an explosively expressive wine – technically far from perfect balanced and challenging to some palates but in the era of bland international-styled wines, the personality of this Riesling is a rare gem. Slovakia can produce brilliant wine – and hopefully it will follow on Belá’s trail.

25 November 2009

Black diamonds





Winter is not a very exciting time for food here in Poland. When wild mushrooms, pumpkins and new season pears and apples are gone, we are left with exceedingly few vegetarian options. (That’s why we’re experts at pickling vegetables, including our signature pickled cabbage that can be used in savoury dishes such as bigos).

But winter is also an occasion to reconcile with root vegetables. Poland has many, from potatoes to celeriac to beetroot. One of my favourites is black turnip (czarna rzepa in Polish). Together with the white turnip, it is likely one of the oldest vegetables still in use, going back to pre-Christian times. It’s a medium-sized, round bulb, hard as a fist, with a rough black skin that looks like a diamond between vegetables:

Black turnip apparently is known in many countries, including Germany (Winterretich), France (navet du Pardailhan has a different shape), Britain and the US where it’s called Black Spanish Radish. But I’ve never seen it sold or cooked anywhere in the ‘West’. For me it remains the quintessential Eastern European veggie, stern, earthy, very ‘old-Slavic’.

It has a considerably stronger flavour than white turnip: earthy, spicy and peppery. (It also gives off a rather unpleasant smell when boiled, like boiled cauliflower but worse, so it’s best cooked in butter or oil). When really fresh it can be grated into a salad, and is an excellent raw material for deep-fried crisps.

The range of culinary preparations, in fact, is wide – I recall a friend reducing black turnip wedges in a bottle of Tokaji eszencia: a really expensive dish but a fabulous explosion of sweet & savoury flavours! One of standard preparations is black turnip risotto. I use light vegetable stock for this recipe, to let the turnip flavours dominate the whole. In this season, the addition of toasted, roughly chopped fresh hazelnuts at the end of cooking adds a luxurious twist, as does a generous helping of a tangy grated pecorino.

Root vegetables are interesting partners with wine. Any colour can be fine, but the wine usually needs to have a strong flavour and good minerality, so these veggies are natural matches with real terroir wines. Black turnip’s strong earthy flavour makes the choice of a red a bit tricky (though Pinot Noir styles could work). I much prefer a white, but it needs plenty of body and personality. Think a dry Hungarian Furmint like this one, a wine from the Jura, or a strong Chenin Blanc in the style of Savennières. But my favourite is Pinot Gris. Adding a splash of sweet wine into the sauce, a richer Alsace style works nicely, but with the above-mentioned risotto I prefer a bone-dry, mineral rendition from Northern Italy. (Not your commercial diluted Pinot Grigio, of course).

With this week’s rzepa, I’ve opened two vintages of the Pinot Grigio St. Valentin from the San Michele Appiano co-op in Alto Adige. The 2002 is (very) slowly maturing, and has surprising power left. Only slightly aged in the bouquet (honey and dried herbs), it shows that typical rich, creamy texture of Pinot Gris while staying quite dry. The acidity is low, and there’s an obvious contribution of new oak but it’s the strong mineral backbone that lends this wine a lovely sense of balance. It’s drinking very well now, but with turnip I’ve actually preferred the 2005 version of the same wine. The structure is similar – good body, moderate oak, lowish acidity – but the minerality is more upfront, and there is a juiciness that’s gone in the older version. Both vintages are quite similar though – consistency is this overperforming co-op’s big asset. Great food wines.

21 November 2009

2009 Darjeelings (4): Giddapahar & Okayti




The leaves are dead...




Long live the leaves!

More 2009 Darjeeling on the tasting table today. Two releases from the high-perched Giddapahar estate renowned for its highly aromatic teas.

The 1st Flush SFTGFOP1 ($3 / 100g from Lochan Tea; bottom leaves in the photo above and below) shows a contradiction between the visual aspect and the actual flavour. The dry leaf, wet leaf and brewed tea colour are announcing a fairly light tea: leaves are green, brew is apricotty-orange, while this tea actually packs in quite a bit of punch, with a bitterish, dry finish. The chewiness and murkiness are also signs of high oxidation. This however remains clean, with good intensity and not without interest but lacks the precision and distinctiveness of the best 2009 1st flushes.



Giddapahar 2nd (top) and 1st flush (bottom) after 5 minutes of infusion.



The 2nd Flush FTGFOP1 ($2 / 100g from Lochan again; top  samples on the two photos above) looks considerably more brown and oxidised than the above tea, plus the grade is somewhat lower and more rustic, with a high amount of stems. Brews a very dark cup with a malty-purple hue. I’ve only had one lucky shot with this tea, a competition brewing soon after receiving the sample in June: a dark aromatic register with plummy fruit, wet earth, high oxidation; balanced astringency within a voluminous, raisiney, almost chocolatey, quite individual mouthfeel. 


Giddapahar 2nd Flush FTGFOP1, expired leaf after 5 minutes.


But subsequent tastings have been very underwhelming, and the tea has developed an odd intensity of smokey, herby, onion-like, sulphury notes over the summer. The same, in fact, is true of the 1st Flush. Retasting alongside this morning both teas were on the verge of offensive. That’s quite an odd twist of tea leaf evolution. 



The Okayti tea estate is rarely on anyone’s absolute favourite group but produces a reliable tea from its plantations that are among the region’s highest. This 2009 1st Flush FTGFOP1 China Special ($3 / 100g from Lochan; pictured above) is an excellent tea. A good grade with some tips, it has a herby, bergamotty aroma with hints of nuts and citrus. Light in body but high in tannins, it is a delicate tea that’s quite easy to overbrew; I actually prefer a second long brewing here for its fruitier, less tangy balance. Fresh and lively, not among the season’s best, but then more resilient in time than many. I’ll surely be seeking more teas from this estate.

15 November 2009

Apenninic wine



Rúfina is a town east of Florence that produces, on just 750 ha of vineyards, a red wine from the Sangiovese grape that is labelled Chianti Rúfina. Like many Italian appellations it invites journalists to come and taste through the new vintages and so I’m in Florence to report for you on the 2007, 2008 and other trivia.

Rúfina is a zone with many assets. It is well located on the Western slopes of the Apennines, rather high by Tuscan standards (some vineyards up the 650m mark) on very good dolomitic soils. On paper, in a good sunny vintage with a prolonged autumn (Sangiovese’s favourite conditions) it should produce an exciting medium-bodied red wine with good structure, minerality and considerable ageing potential.

Yet it rarely does. The level of bad wines here – oxidised, reduced, vinegarish, dirty – is the same as everywhere else but there’s a surprisingly high proportion of average stuff: not downright bad but just devoid of any character. Or perhaps it’s not so surprising after all when you look at the figures: on 750 ha of vines there are just 23 bottlers operating (the similarly sized DOCG Barbaresco in Piedmont has 10 times that). Rúfina is dominated by large industrial players and there isn’t enough competition between the small estates to guarantee a steady increase in quality. Viticulture in many places is still primitive.

Rúfina has two world-known names: Frescobaldi and Selvapiana. The former are producing – besides an ocean of every conceivable Tuscan wine from Chianti to Ornellaia – two definitely engaging Rúfina bottlings, Nipozzano and Montesodi, which however are so much Bordeaux-styled that in a comparative tasting, anyone would pick them out of a bunch of Rúfina Sangioveses. The 1985 and 2007 Montesodis I’ve tasted over the last two days are very serious wines with considerable concentration and a fine design to the tannins but the blueberry register is so un-Tuscan. Selvapiana, on the other hand, remains a benchmark for its 1960s and 1970s Riservas – last year I’ve had a superlative tasting of the 1965, 1970, 1979 and 1982 that were second to no other Tuscan wine – but it seems to have changed its course considerably over the last years. In 2006 and 2007 the flagship bottling, Bucerchiale, is tasting puzzlingly modern and international with big extract and lavish oak notes; the finely poised structure of Rúfina is there but it remains to be seen whether it can rise to proficiency again from underneath the oak. Given Selvapiana’s track record I trust it will. The 2004 Bucerchiale is very good indeed, too.


On the side of uncompromised tradition there is really a single name: Cológnole, belonging to the same family that used to own the well-known Chianti brand of Spalletti. From an impressive estate of 700 ha in the highest crus of the appellation come structured, ungiving, mineral, majestic wines that need a long time in bottle, though the 2007 Riserva del Don is approachable now and, by a margin, my best Rúfina of this very good vintage.

There are some other dynamic estates including the modern-oriented Lavacchio and Castello del Trebbio, whose owner Stefano Casadei is doing some impressive work in the vineyards and whose Riserva Lastricato has been consistently good in 2006 and 2007, with fair weight, balanced oak and very good potential. I’ve also been happy with Fattoria di Grignano that is a bit more traditional-oriented, especially with its basic Chianti Rúfina that’s perhaps the most consistent of the bunch.

From the other 16 estates that I’ve tasted this year and last, the impressions are mixed but 2008 Chianti Rúfina from Frascole, Il Pozzo, Il Lago and Dreolino are recommended, as well as the 2007 Riservas from Travignoli, Fratelli Bellini and Il Capitano. These estates are still rather inconsistent in quality but they remain a good source of reasonably terroir-driven, continental-profiled, structured, mineral, ageworthy wine. In your diet of Chianti Classico, do make room for Rúfina from time to time. It’s well worth a detour.


12 November 2009

2009 Darjeelings (3): Jungpana


Top to bottom: Autumn Delight, Imperial Muscatel, 2nd Flush Clonal, 1st Flush.
All brewed 5 minutes on 2g of leaf for 100ml water.



The independent tea estate of Jungpana might not enjoy the reputation of more centrally located gardens such as Castleton or Margaret’s Hope but has its loyal followers. I’m one of them. This year Jungpana has presented the best line-up of my (admittedly limited) 2009 tastings. Here are notes on four teas from three different flushes. (All sourced from Lochan Tea Ltd.).


The 1st Flush FTGFOP1 is simply a delightful first flush rendition of Darjeeling. The leaves are small and moderately tippy. Interestingly they show none of the fashionable green of modern Darjeeling productions: the oxidation is high, and the aroma is unfruity, quite spicy, and with enough notes of bergamot to pass for a light Earl Grey. The grade is high and the leaf selection has been very good: this is less of an indistinct mash than many a Darjeeling expired leaf.



Consequently to its highish oxidation it brews a deepish colour: although my initial brewings were warm amber-brown (as above) ,in a comparative ‘competition-style’ tasting (see photo at top of post, the 1st flush is first bottom) it’s a pretty medium-dark brown. Aroma is generic but not bad, echoing the bergamot of the nose in a lower key. A balanced cup, medium-bodied with good length and pleasantly citrusy-flavoured tannins on end. Hardly very complex but I like the balance and semi-ligthness here. However, this tea has quite some power up its sleeve and can become hefty when overbrewed but is deliciously clean with a lovely dried fruits expression. The only drawback is that my sample has deteriorated over a few months and what remains is yielding a less distinctive, walnutty tea with none of its former finesse. (I find this typical of first flush Darjeelings which really behave much like early-drinking primeur teas).
 

The 2nd flush Imperial Muscatel is well-presented with largish leaves and few tips; it has a very exciting scent of milk chocolate and other complex notes of herbs and dried fruits. Reasonably deep-coloured, it is all about harmony and complexity. It exudes a sense of calmness, depth and dimension. The tannins are very fused into a broad, almost mellow whole, although the tea by no means light. There’s a ripe, summery sense of second-flushness to this, quite different to the herby drive of the above FF. The empty cup aroma is especially noteworthy: summery, warm, spicy. (The famous muscatel scent escapes me here, though). 


Tremendous complexity and balance but also considerable concealed power: just for fun I brewed it gongfu-style (photo above: the colour is slightly lighter but less than you would think given the infusion time relation is 5 minutes : 25 seconds) and it generated a very exciting 7 infusions with a fantastic chocolatey-roasted aroma cup, and a fair bit of potency; the earthy tannins are not far removed from a good Wuyi yancha. Remarkable tea and by some distance my favourite 2nd flush of this season.
 

Another 2nd flush is the FTGFOP1 Clonal. This one is fairly light, as preannounced by the leaf which is greener and tippier than even the FF here, with an intense smokey-bergamottey aroma. The cup is light-coloured (see photo at top of page, second bottom), peachy-amber in colour, with an exciting if short-lived aroma of fresh leaves, mown grass, freshly polished wood, with subsidiary notes of fresh summer fruits (peaches). Astringency is there, ending the palate progression in a crescendo. A nice tea, much more first than second flush in character, and if not compared to the vastly superior Imperial Muscatel above, really quite good.
 

The Autumn Delight is, obviously, from the autumn flush. After two remarkable and one very good tea this one is only good. A standard Darjeeling smallish leaf with some lighter brown hues to the whole but few tips, it boasts a lovely dry leaf aroma: more humid and fresh than the second flushes, gloriously intense fresh wood and walnut notes. The infusion starts with intense fruitiness (candied fruits: mango, cherries), mild spice, good concentration but little in the way of tannins. I like the balance and the feeling of effortless quality that is usual with Jungpana but its the least immediately engaging of their 2009 releases: it’s rather simple and one-dimensional. After the dry leaf aroma the biggest moment of interest is in the finish which is poignantly hazelnutty. Representative of an autumnal flush in being less generous, more bone-dry, less fruity than a second flush. 



2009 2nd Flush Imperial Muscatel: large leaves.
 

11 November 2009

2009 Darjeelings (2): Castleton


Castleton is one of the most famous Darjeeling tea gardens and according to a self-description you can read here, is particularly renowned for its intensely aromatic second flush muscatels. The latter found a confirmation in my tasting, with the additional advantage that the two teas tasted here are extremely representative of their flushes and genre. Both teas are sourced from Lochan Tea Ltd.

The 1st Flush FTGFOP1 Special (photo above and below) has small tippy leaves in a wide variety of green and light brown colours: it couldn’t look more 1st flush-typical. The wet leaf shows moderate oxidation and a good leaf selection. The dry leaf aroma is quite herby and earthy and less citrusy than many 1st flush Darjeelings this season.

The tea brews a surprisingly deep colour that shows this straight away to be one of the more structured 1st flushes, excitingly complete, dense and flavourful. But the texture remains light as befits a spring picking and so the assertive tannins that arrive at the end are really let loose. Their flavour is earthy, fully oxidised, less citrusy-bitterish than many 1st flushes. This is really good tea with plenty of personality. (Though on a side note, it seems to have deteriorated a bit since my first brewings in June; retastes this morning alongside the 2nd flush, it is now quite light, less flavourful at mid-palate, and tannins are sharper than before, though very clean).

The 2nd flush FTGFOP1 China Special (wet leaf above and below) is less tippy than the above tea, with a darker, more oxidative leaf appearance (consistent brown colours). The aroma is very intense, mixing chocolatey richness with mild herbiness. The milk chocolate aroma is reminiscent of a Chinese oolong tea from Wuyi.

This is showing classic Castleton character (as I understand it): balanced, stately, even lofty Darjeeling. It isn’t particularly aromatic in the brew and not so very muscatel-driven, but has a sweet fruity (dried fruits), almost honeyed flavour and dense texture at mid-palate that make it very attractive. Oxidation is rather high and the perception of the astringency is different from the above 1st flush: the tea tastes rounder, less drying, and the tannins are more walnuty in flavour than the earthy, woodsy 1st flush. Brewed alongside this ‘China Special’ is more complete and preferable to the 1st flush ‘Special’ (though as mentioned it might have to do with the latter sample’s freshness). It is not a particularly vivid or poised tea but for balance and breadth, is surely in the top league of Darjeeeling. (See Facebook discussion of this tea). 


09 November 2009

The wines of St. Andrea

Hungary is an exciting wine country with great potential for all sorts of wine but it’s been a little slow in improving its red wines. While the days of overcropped oxidised ancient régime reds are gone, Hungarian vintners have contracted another disease: overextracted, overoaked international-style wines that show little in terms of terroir expression or even regional definition. (See here for an earlier discussion of this).

It’s also been the case of Eger, arguably the country’s most promising red region, where the volcanic tuff soils can yield wines that are both minerally structured and alluringly elegant. Yet the fashion has been to plant Merlot and Syrah and reach for 15% alcohol with a creamy, vanillish, soft-tannic, Chilean-lookalike mouthfeel. The recent scandal with Béla Vincze adding glycerol to entertain this style is quite telling.

Owner and winemaker György Lőrincz (photo taken June 2005).
Although of recent extraction (the first vintage here was 1999), the St. Andrea estate in Egerszalok near Eger city has quickly risen to fame – largely because it’s been able to detach itself from the above-mentioned nouveau riche tendency. Throughout the rather extensive range here the keywords have been balance, finesse, freshness and terroir character.

It was exciting, therefore, to have a look at the new releases here. Take the inexpensive 2008 Rosé: usually in Hungary it’s a way of doing away with surplus grapes rather than building a wine with full identity and justifiability. St. Andrea’s pink is ambitious and uncompromised: based on Pinot Noir it even sees a brief passage in oak. The result is a bone-dry, structured, minerally tense, ageworthy effort that however remains a real rosé, not an underextracted red. The 2007 Pinot Noir is also successful. Hungary has been looking for its own style of Pinot, combing the vegetal and earthy overtone of German Spätburgunder with a more generous Mediterranean fruitiness and, rarely, real Burgundian minerality and finesse. Here the first element dominated (a saline, almost cornichoney backbone) but there’s also quite a bit of Pinot Noir’s elusive poise and crystalline fruit.

Although not my style, I have positive feelings about the two oaked whites here: the entry-level 2008 Napbor (Chardonnay and Pinot Blanc) and the single-vineyard but reasonably priced 2007 Ferenchegy Chardonnay show good (if low-acid) fruit and balanced oak of a quality that’s still rarely encountered in Hungary (where many wines are marred by poorly seasoned and manufactured local oak barrels).

Two big reds to finish; both labelled as Egri Bikavérs (Bull’s Blood: read more about it here) although the 2007 Hangács is based on Merlot with lesser amounts of Cabernet Franc and the local Kékfrankos (a.k.a. Blaufränkisch) while the 2006 Merengő has 50% Kékfrankos and 20% Syrah. The former is a dense, earthy wine with finely integrated oak and a reassuringly continental, authentic style: it nods not to Chile but to northern Italy if anything. The fruit is perfectly ripe with no vegetal deviations but the alcohol remains a reasonable 13.5% and there is good freshness. This wine be had for 10€ retail in Hungary and if you ask me, is a seriously good bargain.

The 2006 Bikavér Superior Merengő retains broadly the same style but packs in quite a bit more concentration, and fruit is riper, taking on an almost Tuscan air. Despite its unarguable weight the wine is finely balanced, and 14% alc. must be seen as admirable self-restraint among modern Hungarian ‘icon wines’ (the equally famous Ferenc Takler’s 2006 Bartina Cuvée, tasted alongside, is 15% and more than a bit port-like in profile).

First produced in 2003, Merengő is a serious contender for the title of Hungary’s best red wine. Two years in a row when I judged at the Pannon Bormustra competition, it came an obvious 1st among 30-odd Bikavérs. This new 2006 is really a non plus ultra.

08 November 2009

2009 Darjeelings (1): Margaret’s Hope




Over the next few days I’ll be posting reviews on a wide range of 2009 Darjeeling teas (interspersed with some wine talk for those uninterested in tea). All these are first and second flush teas sourced from Lochan Tea Ltd. but coming from renowned gardens, they can easily be obtained from other merchants. All teas were tasted several times including in competition standard (2g / 100ml boiling water / 5 minutes) and in large pot; my tasting notes are a summary of those several tastings.

Today I look at three samples from the Margaret’s Hope Estate, on which there’s information here.  
A. 1st Flush FTGFOP1 China Special  
B. 2nd Flush FTGFOP1  
C. 2nd Flush Muscatel (see Facebook tasting


 2009 1st and 2nd Flush assessment.


As a side note, I remain confused by the many subgrades and additional appellations of Darjeeling teas. While it’s more or less clear what an FTGFOP1 is, the difference between various FTGFOP1s from the same estate and same flush isn’t clear at all. Nor is it easily grasped what ‘China’, ‘Clonal’, ‘Special’ mean, while other categories such as ‘Tippy’, ‘Imperial’, ‘Muscatel’ are entirely discretional. 
It’s the usual practice of most merchants to offer a tea generically named Margaret’s Hope First Flush. There being several dozen second flush offerings from Margaret’s Hope, it’s always necessary to ask for a more specific name. But when, like in this case from Lochan, you learn that the tea in question is a First Flush FTGFOP1 China Special, how does it differ from a First Flush FTGFOP1 that’s not China and not Special? I’m often of the impression that even tea estate managers are rather vague on this. For easy reference and comparison it would be so much more useful to code teas with a ‘bin number’ or similar, so you’d know the First Flush FTGFOP1 #138 is the same you tried a few months ago from another source. Am I being too meticulous?  


1st Flush FTGFOP1 China Special and 2nd Flush FTGFOP1.

On to the teas. The dry and wet leaf shows some minor differences that can be summarised thus: ‘C’ is more fragmented than ‘A’ or ‘B’. ‘A’ and ‘B’ are similar in showing impressively healthy, intact young leaves, but ‘B’ has somewhat larger leaves. A seems to have a bit more tips than ‘B’, which has very few. The leaf oxidation on all three samples is moderate, leaves are of the lighter shades of brown, and show a pleasantly crisp, herby-spicy (bergamotty) aroma, although ‘C’ is a little fruitier, applier, with a hint of that elusive grapey ‘muscatel’ character.  


The above being said, the differences in flavour are minor. If tea ever has the bad luck to be rated on a 100-point scale similarly to wine, I’d score these teas less than 1 point apart.   
Tea ‘A’ is the lightest of the three and has the most pronounced bouquet of dried aromatic herbs (verbena / bergamot). It has good body and good length but very limited astringency. It shows a dynamism and poignancy that ‘B’ and ‘C’ are lacking. On the finish there’s a pronounced nutty (hazelnutty?) note.   
Tea ‘B’ is best described as ‘complete’. It is a bit less punchy than ‘A’ but adds just a bit more roundness and mid-palate filling. Thanks to this, it seems even less tannic than ‘A’. There might just be a touch more oxidation. Still light-bodied but deeper. Excellent tea.


2009 2nd Flush Muscatel.


Tea ‘C’ is centered around that faint grapey-appley ‘muscatel’ note. It is also a little drier on the throat, showing a more autumnal character than the 2nd Flush ‘B’. It is easier to overbrew (fragmented leaves), and contrasts with the light citrusy character of ‘A’. I’m much enjoying the second brewing here, which shows an exciting muscatel and bitter chocolate character. But in a way it’s the least eloquent of the three. A slightly lower grade?

This is a trio of seriously good teas from one of Darjeeling’s most famous estates. But I often find Margaret’s Hope teas to be somewhat on the safe side. Their aroma and flavour are consistently in the middle of the Darjeeling spectrum. The quality is very good indeed but I find them to lack the assertiveness of e.g. Castleton, the precision of Jungpana or the sprite of Giddapahar. The 2009 2nd Flush Muscatel is a good example. It has all you can expect from its appellation but somehow lacks sparkle.

2009 2nd Flush Muscatel.

07 November 2009

Some Assams




I rarely drink any black tea, and when I do, I tend to go for the lighter styles such as Darjeeling, or complex Chinese teas I have a weakness for such as Yunnan. So Assam – the strongest black tea in Asia – is never high on my list. 
It was interesting, therefore, to operate a full-immersion Assam course tasting six teas sourced from Lochan Tea Ltd. Two (teas B and D on the list below) are part of the ongoing online tasting on Facebook while the remaining four were part of the free 2nd Flush sampler pack I ordered back in June (and which is still available – see here). 


Let me just say that the tasting revealed an unexpected richness of styles. I was expecting all teas to conform to the deeply coloured, full-bodied, tannic, chunky Assam stereotype but several samples actually showed quite some complexity and elegance. Plus it must be mentioned these teas offer tremendous value for money: they range from $1 to $4 per 100g which is several times less than good Chinese black teas and 50% less than a good Darjeeling.

All teas are 2009 2nd flushes from Assam and all were brewed competition-style (2g of leaf / 100ml boiling water / 5 minutes). 
A. Budlabeta FTGFOP1 
B. Harmutty Golden Paw 
C. Harmutty FTGFOP1 Tippy 
D. Hattialli Golden Bud 
E. Rembeng FTGFOP1 Clonal
F. Sewpur SFTGFOP1


Top row, A to C, bottom row, D to F.


The dry leaf shows the great stylistic diversity of these six teas: 
A. Highish grade (but leaves larger than other samples), negligible tips. Subdued aroma, unpushy oxidation, dried fruit/spicy: mulled orange, minor chocolate; caramel and red fruit jam too from warmed leaves. 
B. Good grade, good proportion of golden tips/buds, but ‘Golden Paw’ is a little over-indulgent. Aroma not so oxidation-driven, quite sweet (brown sugar), minor spice, inviting. 
C. The name says it all: this is tippy tea! Dominated by orange-amber tips (>50%). Aroma close to a Darjeeling: subtly herby, spicy (bergamot), more lifted, far less chocolatey and charcoaly than Assam average. 
D. Good grade, deep black colour, around 20–30% tips yielding a brighter, orangey-spicy aroma to the deeply smokey, fully-oxidised aroma. Warmed leaf smell less attractive. 
E. Another über-tippy Assam, very well-processed, abundantly hairy, orange-coloured tips (~50%), remaining leaves more brown than black in colour. Distinctive, very sweet aroma, almost grapey (muscatel?), dried red fruits; little obvious oxidation, no herbiness. 
F. Good grade, conservative blend, small leaves, not very dark colour, negligible tips. Aroma subdued, earthy, herby, black-teaish, minor bitter chocolate. Expecting a bone-dry tea no-nonsense tea. 

As you can see the difference in colour between the infused teas is very minor: 


Tasting notes: 
A. Pleasant dried fruits aroma (prunes perhaps) but unremarkable flavour, black-teaish (later Chinese mushrooms and seaweed, odd). Ordinary with little personality. Not too tannic. 
B. Deepest colour of all. Meaty, chewy, deep aroma, Assam-typical with good depth of taste. Very tannic, easy to overbrew, a bit low on fruit. In the comparative tasting this is underwhelming and unbalanced. Lochan Tea recommend to brew this at 82C and as odd as it seems it makes sense: a much lighter version no black or purple hues, good fruit, echoes of dry leaf sweet treacly note; chewy, earthy Assam notes kept in the background. A little vague and unstructured with a chunky finish but better than with boiling water. 

Harmutty 2009 FTGFOP1 Tippy: almost looking like a Darjeeling.

C. Standard parameters bring an unexpectedly hefty tea but fairly complete, with unaggressive tannins and excellent length (as always with buds). Even better when brewed lighter, wonderful tea, subtly spicy, juicy, mildly Oriental Beauty-like in the incomplete oxidation, not really tannic. Brilliant value. But positively un-Assamish. 
D. Deep brown colour. Restrained aroma: rich, malty. Lovely balance in taste, very good tea, broad, voluminous and complete. Perhaps most tannic of six. Big, assertive. Here again Lochan recommend brewing at 90C giving some unexpected sophistication and softness in taste. Very different than C but excellent. 


Hattialli 2009 Golden Bud: a classic Assam colour.

E. Extra fruitiness on nose, orangey, citrusy, bright, open. Nice balanced tannins. Nuanced and balanced. Surely best of flight together with C. Easy to brew, the tannins are so balanced you have to push it hard to get any astringency. Fantastic value.
F. Simplest of six, linear and uncomplex. Unremarkable and somewhat diluted even at high dosage. Not so much power even brewed with a heavy hand. Decent quality, cleaner and preferable to A. 


Wet leaf appearance and final remarks: 
A. Expired leaves quite thick and coarse, high amount of stalks. Wet leaf smells very earthy with minor fruit sweetness. Ordinary tea and clearly a lower grade (so why is it called an FTGFOP1). 
B. Wet leaf is not bad showing an amount of tips, however this is a bit unbalanced and takes some extra care in the brewing to produce a good cup. Good not great. Best thing about this tea is the evocative ‘Golden Paw’ name. 

Expired leaf of Harmutty 2009 FTGFOP1 Tippy.

C. About the highest grade I’ve seen in a black tea: wondrously healthy bud-and-leaf systems with not a particle of broken leaf. Thoroughly lovely from looking at the dry leaves to finishing the second brew cup. And it’s only $4 / 100g. 

Expired leaf of Hattialli 2009 Golden Bud.

D. Nothing special about the wet leaf, seems less tippy than B but surely tastes better, a well-presented, balanced and complete tea, classic Assam with some extra elegance and character, recommended. 
E. Wet leaf similar to C, lots of tips, intact leaf. Clearly a special small lot production. Brilliant tea at a ridiculous $2 / 100g although in the end I preferred C by a minor margin. 
F. Wet leaf plain-looking, good grade with no fannings but nowhere the tippy extravagance of C and E. Small chopped leaves but at least not the coarse lower-grade leaf of A. Ordinary but not bad.

03 November 2009

Himalayan oolong


 

As part of the ongoing Lochan Tea Co. online tasting on Facebook (see here for their profile and contact them if you’d like to enroll for the second round, to be organised soon), I’m tasting the 2009 Oolong from Meghma Estate in Nepal, and thought I’d compare it with a 2009 2nd Flush Oolong from Glenburn Estate in Darjeeling which I got also from Lochan earlier this year.
Darjeeling and Nepal have historically specialised in black teas. However with the increasing popularity of new types of tea in the West, the market pressure on Himalayan tea producers is to introduce green, white, yellow, and oolong (semi-oxidised) styles. These remain marginal but it’s interesting to compare them with the classic Chinese examples.
The usual feeling is one of disappointment. Indian greens and oolongs are rarely exciting and often fall short of ‘the real thing’. It’s important to say that non-black teas in the Himalayan regions are produced with the same tea plants that yield black tea (in China, it’s almost always a separate tea cultivar, although green and black tea are produced from the same leaves in some regions, and classic oolong varietals such as qingxin and tieguanyin are occasionally used for black tea in Taiwan). And it’s also often argued that Indian tea makers lack the expertise linked to green and oolong production in China – although tea manufacture might seem a simple task there’s a number of intricate processing steps such as wilting, roasting and rolling that need to be very carefully timed.
I think no-one would argue there’s no oolong in India at the moment that can challenge the iron-cast structure and longevity of a Dahongpao, or the inimitable buttery texture of a high-grown Lishan from Taiwan. Green tea is more open to debate but being produced from tea plants suited for black tea, with its tannins and deep taste, Darjeeling green teas usually lack the finesse and lightness of the best Chinese examples. Yet I often feel it’s a bit unfair to compare the two. Indian (and Nepalese) green and oolong tea need to find their own original style. The two teas tasted here go some way along that path, I felt.

The 2009 Glenburn Estate Oolong is a 2nd flush tea with strange  looks: as much as 40–50% tips mixed with small, fragmented, ‘black’ Darjeeling-looking young leaves, but with a silvery and green colour. Smell is equally odd: a democratic mix of oxidative black-tea herby pungency and puer smokiness. The puer reminiscence continues on the nose and palate of the brewed tea. 

Brewed competition-styled (2g of leaf for 5 minutes), this is coming really close to a black tea both in body and in the chewy, earthy register, but when dosed high at ~4g and brewed gongfu-style like a Chinese oolong, the oxidation is lower (~50% I guess), the whole is lighter, a little walnutty, and generally lacks grip. (I prefer a longer infusion here). Not so much texture or intensity at mid-palate but a decent profile. Perhaps wrong to expect this to conform to any known Chinese or Taiwanese oolong type: it’s just tasting of a slightly less oxidised Darjeeling.

The 2009 Meghma Estate (Facebook profile) Oolong (also a 2nd flush) is another modified-Darjeeling ‘oolong’, but a more successful one. The oxidation is higher (~70%), and the dry leaf appearance is quite different: fewer tips, medium-sized leaves that seem a little larger than those used for black tea. The dry leaf aroma is very smokey and mildly spicy, with a vague reminiscence of Oriental Beauty from Taiwan. Really good leaf quality here: it’s no coincidence the tea also tastes good. Look at the expired leaf photo with its intact bud-and-leaf systems:



I followed the Lochan recommended parameters (4g of leaf / 250ml boiling water / 3 minutes) and unlike the 2009 Doke 2nd Flush Silver Needle white tea tasted on Facebook yesterday, found them very successful. While the steeping is a bit longer than I would have dared on my own, the result is a flavourful and balanced tea,  not overbrewed and only medium-bodied, lighter in colour than expected:

A simple tea as befits its small-size leaf, this has in fact quite a bit in common with a Darjeeling-styled black tea, including a bergamottey and dried fruits spiciness, but lacks the tannins and remains a little lighter. Interestingly but consistently with the wet leaf appearance the subsequent brewings taste much like a ‘redded’ (partly oxidised before the shaqing stage of processing) puer, and share that crisp beany character and a similar chewy constitution to the tannins. A gongfu session on lots of leaf and 30s, 20s, 30s etc. steeps yields similar results: initially very smokey, later with a more pronounced black tea dryness.
In short, this has nothing to do with a Chinese or Taiwanese oolong but builds a style of its own: that of a less-than-fully oxidised black tea, lighter in body and less astringent but similarly flavoured to a Darjeeling (of the more chunky style). Is there any interest in that? I would say so.

Glenburn 2009 Oolong (left, 1st infusion, 30 seconds), Meghma 2009 Oolong (right, 3rd infusion, 30 seconds):
the difference in oxidation is clear.