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This is the first yellow tea I have reviewed here at TeaFancier.com and, given the rareness of yellow teas, I imagine it is not going to be a well-stocked category here.
First, let’s do the science-y bit. You will, I’m sure, as fellow tea fanciers, be aware of the two biggest tea categories – black and green – and the difference between. Basically, it’s all about the oxidation.
Oxidation, in chemistry terms is “the combination of a substance with oxygen.
or a reaction in which the atoms of an element lose electrons and the valence of the element is correspondingly increased”. In basic tea terms, it means the bit in tea production which turns the leaves from green to brown.
Green teas are not oxidised. The leaves are plucked and heated quickly to halt the oxidation process. Black teas are oxidised a-plenty.
Then there are the categories of teas which are oxidised ‘just a bit and in a special way’. Oolong tea is one such tea type and so is yellow tea. In the case of yellow tea, it goes through its own unique process called ‘smothering’ where the leaves are covered with cloth which – through some kind of tea-producing magic – makes the tea yellow in colour and less ‘grassy’-tasting than green tea.
It’s a time-consuming, highly skilled process which is only carried out in a handful of Chinese provinces which is why yellow tea is much rarer than its green and black brethren.
For my first ever experience of yellow tea, I am drinking ‘Yellow Sun’ by Whittard which is produced in the Huangshan Mountains of China’s Anhui Province. Whittard recommend brewing this tea at 80°c.
So on to the really important question, how does this tea taste? It’s a pale – pleasingly yellow-coloured – tea which, to me, had a fruity, flowery thing going on. This tea is often described as smoky, but I didn’t detect any smokiness there. Certainly not in a Lapsang Souchong ‘tastes like ashtrays’ sort of way.
In fact, what this tea reminded me of more than anything else was jasmine tea. This made me feel like a bit of a tea heathen, to be honest. “Here Em, try this unique tea type, the likes of which you have never sampled before.” “Thanks! It tastes like a really ubiquitous Chinese tea blend that is sold everywhere.”
I tried this tea with various different temperatures and steeping times. The cup I enjoyed most was the first one I had where I’m pretty sure the water wasn’t hot enough and where I left the tea to brew just long enough so it wasn’t the actual colour of water. That was a delicate white-tea-like drink with a surprisingly high level of sweetness that I thought was rather lovely. The brew temperature (which I unscientifically try to achieve by stopping the kettle early) was definitely lower than 80° though. It was barely warm when I drank it and it wasn’t even the cup that I faffed about taking photos of. That tea went pretty much straight from pot to mouth.
Subsequent brewings brought forth darker – and thankfully hotter – versions which I didn’t enjoy half as much as the first one. Resteeping was no fun at all as the tea had dispensed with any sweetness of jasmine-isity by that point and just seemed like a fairly lacklustre green tea.
I’m feeling a bit on the fence about Whittard Yellow Sun. If I can only enjoy it by brewing it contrary to the manufacturer’s instructions then maybe I’m missing something. I feel a bit bad. Those Anhui tea producers went to a lot of trouble to produce this tea and my response is apparently “Meh. It’s OK. Have you got any jasmine tea?”
Today’s featured book is The Yellow Book (Various Authors) from the Penguin Classics Collection.