Name: Mànsōng gòng chá Xiǎo gāo gān
Year: 2021
Weight: 1-249 grams, 250 grams, tong of 4×250 grams
Country of origin: China, Yunnan province
Details:
’21 Mansong is made of rather older tea trees like the ’20 one, these are not trimmed tea tress resembling a pole, growing straight up
Mansong is a most sought after village in Yibang montain, this tea comes from a state owned and preserved forest where tea pickers need to drive a motorbike for 40 minutes
the taste is more mature and rich but this is not saying that the ’20 is worse simply said in my jargon this one is not a limonade anymore still not that heavy old gushu one
more info and tasting notes added later
A German puerh blog review here (for english press a button to translate on the upper right part of the page)
Názov: Mànsōng gòng chá Xiǎo gāo gān
Rok: 2021
Hmotnosť: 1-249 gramov, 250 gramov, tong of 4×250 gramov
Krajina pôvodu: Čína, provincia Junnan
Podrobnosti:
Mansong ’21 je zberaná s tyčových čajovníkov, to sú stromčeky čo nie sú strihané a rastú rovno do neba, čaj z tohto Mansong-u už nie je taká limonáda ale zase nie silné a tažké gušhu, pochádza z najcennejšej dediny v Yibang pohorí, žeby cisársky čaj?, je zberaný v štátnom lese čo je ťažké povedať čo to vlastne znamená, dá sa tam dostať na motorke od najbližšieho obydlia na motorke za 40 minút
2 reviews for Mansong ’21
This will be the backbone of this session. But the tea is complex and later other elements are added. Softer and sweeter fruity notes. Buttery notes. Other sensations like those of lychens in a humid forest. Powerful aftertaste during which the acid spiciness melts into something sweeter. The energy is still there, but it's something more relaxing now. The body is more relaxed, the mind more at rest. The patio door is open, I can hear the wind and a very fine rain in the foliage of the trees, the thunders of a still distant storm and the trills of the birds, especially one of them, sharp, powerful and persistent. And suddenly I like to believe that this invisible bird is interpreting the feelings that this tea gives me.
The dry leaves in the boiled teapot smell sour/sharp/tart, and also something like a sliced potato; I can smell this when making vegetable soup. (And also this weirder thing: I think back to that high-end Yibang I drank a long time ago now, which had hints of sweet potatoes.) The first cups provide two evidences. The first: "Wow, I didn't expect something so strong". The energy is felt immediately in the head, shoulders and upper chest. The second: the taste of this tea makes me instantly rejuvenate. Here I am again in college, I cross the stadium after a sports lesson and, accompanied by a few comrades, I make a quick detour by this red tree planted on the edge of a football field. Its dark red leaves are beautiful and vaguely menacing, but what really interests us are its fruits, small red balls with extremely tart green flesh. (Was it a prunus cerasifera? Is this tree still alive?). From the first sips of this tea I find this bite and this powerful acidity.