A Pu'er As A First Brew

As disappointed and resentful I was with tea, I didn't smash all my teapots and teaware in 2014. It would have been a bit of waste. They're beautifully made and have been thoroughly seasoned. I didn't throw out my favorite packs of teas either. The entire spectrum is all there, from white to green, yellow, oolongs (light and dark) and pu'er. Thought about it for months, sighed and in the end, I decided to move them to the new flat and give them new home on a shelf.

That afternoon I had the insurance dude over, well, to discuss about home insurance. He doesn't take coffee and surprisingly takes Chinese tea. He opted for a pu'er and mentioned that he used to drink it with his father. I brewed him an imperial pu'er. As he sipped the tea, there was this shift of emotions totally visible on his face. Then I remembered, his father had passed on some months ago. I said nothing, and later on, brewed him a second cup that was much thicker.

When my tea ware tumbled out of their stored bags, there wasn't any sort of alienation felt. I didn't feel happy either. I felt mildly annoyed that the fingers and brain instinctively knew what to do. I could still gauge the temperature of a kettle by touch. I don't seem to have lost the skills of pulling the subtle light to medium to heavy-bodied brews. It's still about science- the temperature of the water, and the ratio of that to tea leaves, etc. Woah... has it really been four years since I stopped brewing tea or even avoided drinking tea? I was so scarred from the experience that I rejected everything to do with tea. Now, I'm less sullen about it, but the annoyance level hasn't decreased much. 😂 I'm okay with brewing tea for friends, BUT I no longer have a passion for it anymore. Not inclined to drink tea daily either, and I most certainly will not seek out conversations about tea with strangers or acquaintances.

My poor guests will simply have to drink oolong or green tea if they visit and want a cup of tea. Dainty teapots for English teas won't appear in my home. I won't stock any sort of blended/floral infusions or tisanes. I don't like flowers very much. :P If I stock a non-caffeinated tea, it might very well expire by the time it's actually needed. Neither am I interested to serve you any sort of builder's tea. I will so judge you if you seriously dig teh-c siew dai. Just tapau that over lah! Basically, I'll never offer anyone tea if I don't know what they drink. HAHAHAH.

I Don't Feel Sorry At All

It's very hard for me to find something nice to speak about this deceased woman. Others still treat her as a learned and opinionated traditional sort of tea teacher who expanded their horizons and interests. I'm glad that in some circles, she still had their respect. To me, she was nothing more than a conniving and petty person who had more than a nominal role to play in killing my enthusiasm for tea.

She intentionally squandered my goodwill and wilfully owed me $1000 which was used to pay the bidding deposit for her new HDB shop space. The next month, she had the cheek to say it to my face that since she didn't think I needed the money to be repaid urgently, she would delay returning that amount. I kept quiet and waited seven months; she said nothing till I began legal action to retrieve the amount. You didn't ask me for a gift of money. You said you would appreciate it if I could use my credit card to help out, to get online and do the whole bidding process for the unit, on your behalf, then immediately return the monies incurred. She didn't expect me to be the type who would spend $10,000 to retrieve $1,000 because it is rightfully due, and because I was made to feel like a fool. I do not enjoy being taken for a ride and viewed as a meal ticket.

Throughout my association with her, she mocked my friends whom I sent to her shop to buy tea. They left empty-handed, bemused and a tad annoyed. It was the most embarrassing recommendation and error in judgment I made. She knew I did chargeable translations freelance and still insidiously asked for 'help', insinuating that I should do pieces of work at no charge for her. When I finally put a stop to that and said no, she feigned ignorance and emailed me five times in 24 hours, well knowing I was in London on vacation. Her idea was, if I was on vacation, then I'd be very free to do unpaid work for her. She actually said it aloud. Worst kind of client ever. I stopped being bothered about that, putting it down to her ignorance, small-minded opinions and cultural differences. She then came up with juvenile shit to insult my partner, the integrity of my marriage, and my religion, repeatedly. If it had been just the money and unpaid work bit, I could have forgiven the matter, even though she didn't apologize for the inconvenience caused. But to have her throw up the concept of reincarnation and the sly suggestion that my spouse isn't suitable or good, and that my religious beliefs to be an impediment to further (tea) knowledge... that was where I drew the line. Even after I sought to clarify and told her it was inappropriate, she persisted and didn't think it wrong. I will never let that pass.

Is this considered speaking ill of her? I don't care. I have no kind words for this woman. Do I feel conflicted? No. These are facts recorded, of which I kept logs and screenshots and all as...evidence in the event it went down to the Subordinate Courts. I had written two angry posts about her on this blog. With my 2014 decision to have nothing more to do with tea whenceforth, and this third post, it closes the loop to all my angst and disgust each time I look at a cup of tea or a teapot.

News of her cancer didn't rouse emotions. Being informed of her stroke stirred indifference. Stumbling across the news of her eventual death roused reflection. I take no joy or satisfaction in her death. I hold no relief or sadness either. I'm well aware of how karma goes around. Yes it's still Lent and Palm Sunday tomorrow. My parting words to her when she was alive and well, "Karma exists." Today, I don't regret having said that. Not one bit. 

This Journey Has Ended

The further I travel along in this journey, the greater I've come to resent it. It's been three years. It's not so much the work portion; that's fine. Unfortunately I pursued this field with the aggressiveness of completing another MA or a MSc, but at a slower pace methinks. It could be a matter of too fast, too much. But I doubt it. It's the people in the industry, the humans in the community, the insularity, casual racism and sexism (prevalent everywhere really), unwanted comments on spirituality and religion, etc, all of which ultimately got to me. It's not something I can ignore when I'm seeking knowledge and have to suffer bigoted opinions to sift out the specific portions that are acceptable or quantifiable.

I stopped drinking tea two months ago because sipping a cup of tea induces this wave of dread, resentment and distaste. A cup of tea no longer represents an oasis or a gateway to calm. It stirs hate, peevishness and rejection- negative feelings that I'm in a hurry to dispel. The last happy memory of brewing a pot of tea was in Norway, when it was just the girlfriend and I, in the lingering twilight of a summer evening. At that moment, I knew, the only way to overcome the negativity is to retreat into comforting solitude. So I waited to fulfill the work year. Now, it's time to quietly seek a path away from all these annoying schools of thought and humans. Perhaps one day, I'll pick up a teapot to brew a cup of tea again.

It has come full circle. It's symbolic that the first teapot intentionally smashed is also the first teapot I bought. It was absolutely cathartic swinging the pot against the wall. It was a satisfying thud. Then followed through by crushing it slowly. I felt it give way under the pressure of the fist; felt it crumble into itty bitty pieces. I brushed my fingers gently across the sad broken teapot. Once upon a time, it meant so much to me. Now, it's just dust. Instead of mourning the demise of a passion, I felt relief. Lightness flooded my heart.

and the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit return unto God who gave it.

Reaching Out Teahouse

The only shop where I was remotely curious about in Hội An is Reaching Out Teahouse. Not that this is a trip to seek out tea. Even in Đà Lạt, I enjoyed the sights and sounds and scenery more than anything. Each time I think about tea, a kind of resentment arises. Coffee keeps me happier. I've been drinking tons of Vietnamese coffee, as much as my body can bear. It's so good. But this teahouse is of interest to me. Reaching Out is also a social enterprise stocked with a whole range of local handicrafts.

Rustic and sincere, the vibes feel gorgeous. It's a respite from the busy streets, heat or rain. There're a number of plain A4-sized posters of words hung up on the wall, written in calligraphy, "The beauty of silence". Most of the staff are hearing-impaired and the table is filled with little wooden cubes requesting for service. It's great because it makes me not want to talk while sipping tea or coffee, simply enjoying the present. The entire Teahouse is then kept in a pleasant quiet hum, instead of jarring conversation and hysterical laughter. Love it.

I took a tea-tasting set of three teas- green, oolong and jasmine. Locally grown of course. IMHO, the oolong is Reaching Out Teahouse's best offering, from an estate in Lâm Đồng province, if I'm not wrong. What I tasted didn't hold the familiar notes of an oolong from northern Việt Bắc nearer to Hanoi. Vietnamese oolongs are grown from Taiwanese cultivars and produced in the like of an Alishan (阿里山) oolong or Dong Ding (凍頂烏龍), lightly roasted. It's not quite the quality of a top grade Wenshan Pouchong (文山包種) though. These Vietnamese oolongs are superior to their quality of green.

Oh, this Teahouse served great local coffee too. In tasting sets as well. Awesome. I was only interested in a few sips of the tea. As usual, the brewing methods ensured that the second cup of tea tasted over-steeped. Swopped out to the coffee tasting set after that. The man didn't want a tasting set and was very pleased with his iced 'Sweet Chicory Local Coffee'. The Teahouse was spot-on with using frozen ice-cubes of coffee and not water. It kept the coffee thick, gorgeous and cold on this hot day throughout the 45 minutes we hung out at this oasis.

「茶の本」

Books Actually carries it.
Go buy!

The book had been sitting around for two Christmas untouched. It wasn't really a book I wanted to know. It promised to be filled with childhood teachings and drills I had to go through and it didn't excite me very much. An acquaintance mentioned it and I grudgingly went home to dig it out.

Okakura Kazuzo's 'The Book of Tea' (岡倉覚三「茶の本」). It's a long essay linking tea to the aesthetic and cultural aspects of Japanese life. It's kinda what Lu Yu's 'The Classic of Tea' (陆羽《茶经》) is to the Chinese lifestyle. The Japanese scholar is also popularly and respectfully known as 'Okakura Tenshin (岡倉天心)'. He lived and died within the Meiji era. He's an ardent supporter of Japanese art, techniques and preserving its cultural heritage and addressing the West to involve them in the value of preserving Asian art. And perhaps unsurprisingly, he wrote many of his notable works in English first, not Japanese.

As with all books about tea, the brains went into sleep mode at each mention of religion and philosophy. Understanding what I read doesn't mean I agree or will practise it. By now, after three years of in-depth 'study' about tea, I've come to realize that the one thing I absolutely dislike doing- to talk to people at length about tea, especially fellow tea enthusiasts. Not keen to be led into protracted discussions no matter whether I agree or disagree with the other views. Tea can be so simple and uncomplicated. Humans, make a hooha over it, and sometimes portray it like it's such a mystery. I just want to stick to brewing and drinking a good cup of tea, dammit, not bloody muse over it.

One can argue till the cows come home that it meant I simply don't understand tea. Maybe. But the philosophy and the universe would be an area I refuse to go into. Reading it academically is enough. I don't wish to adopt it or even ponder over it. Setting the tea table is a thing of simplicity for me. I like it utilitarian. I don't particularly feel like making it into a 'chaxi' (茶席) that infuses elements of nature.

The Philosophy of Tea is not mere aestheticism in the ordinary acceptance of the term, for it expresses conjointly with ethics and religion our whole point of view about man and nature. It is hygiene for it enforces cleanliness; it is economics because it shows comfort in simplicity rather than in the complex and costly; it is moral geometry inasmuch as it defines our sense of proportion to the universe. It represents the true spirit of Eastern democracy by making all its votaries aristocrats in taste. 

Read the book at Cafe Pal to an infusion of oolong and pear bits.
One of my favorite 'flavored teas'.

Ong Su Loon's Ceramic Bamboo Teacups In White-Turquoise

Was thrilled to see ceramic bamboo tea cups pop up on Haystakt. The teacups are conceptualized by ceramic collective Weekend Worker's Ong Su Loon. Totally fascinated by its creation process whereby the cups are moulded from bamboo stems. Ong Su Loon detailed the creation process and wanted a tea cup that "maintains the organic shape and texture of the interior of the bamboo stem". I immediately ordered two which arrived in the cutest wicker baskets.

I think the artist washed the tea cups prior to sending them out. Unwrapped and found them squeaky clean. However, for good measure, I ran a gentle detergent over the cups, then stood them in a light white tea for half an hour, just to rid them of any lingering clay residue and smells. Was quite eager to use them immediately. Obviously they aren't symmetrical. There's the beauty of handcrafted cups. Meticulous attention paid to its design. I like them this way. The exterior of the cups was left unglazed. There were a few boxes of tea delivered while I was away. Time to open them up and get some brewing going. The tea cups first contents were a light caramel-nutty 2014 pre-Qingming Shifeng Long Jing (明前狮峰龙井).

Now that I've felt the cups and used them, I wish I had ordered two more in brown. :D They're perfect, absolutely perfect, to hold tea. Although they're thin and might crack holding liquids beyond 85°C. One did, not during the prep but while holding the green tea, and leaked. A straight fine crack across the thinnest portion at the base indent. Haizzzz. What to do. These things happen. With the one good one left, I don't dare to use it for teas that require hotter water above 85°C. The volume of a cup is just nice for a 4.5 - 5oz Yixing clay teapot. Dunno what's the firing temperature used, but the glaze is just right for tea. Something about the interaction of ceramic and tea that makes the end result taste lovely. What fabulous pieces of art. Now, how do I buy more?

Spring Teas

It's spring, and I'm going batty over the new teas from every tea-producing region. While I understand people's love for Hangzhou's pricey long jing (Dragonwell), I'm not a fan. I'm more curious about the economics behind it and what tea masters consider 'good'. A jaunt to the long jing plantations with learned tea masters opened my eyes to its production, definition of grades of leaves and all. I sipped nothing but long jing all day from different estates till the tongue was numb and still the tea masters made me drink to learn the different characteristics of each estate's treatment of the pre-Qingming longjing teas (明前龙井).

There're green teas due from Kyoto and Shizuoka, but the shipment will only arrive in the second week of May. Shincha. Excited. But just as well that this shipment will arrive later. Need a break between tasting so much green tea. I was so pumped up by caffeine from green tea in Hangzhou that my sleep was badly affected. ARRRRGH. In case you want to know, I'm not selling them. Pekoe & Imp doesn't sell teas either, which is why my partner and I don't have a problem paying, say for example, S$150 for 100 grams of spring tea thereabouts, and sharing it with other tea enthusiasts. Our other jobs sustain this serious tea hobby.

When I got home, I was thrilled to see a new batch of Darjeeling first flush waiting for me. The ones from Namring Estate were the first to arrive. Then from Turzum estate. Now waiting for the box from Orange Valley. WOOT. I LOVE DARJEELING FIRST FLUSH. Classified as a 'black' tea in non-Chinese terminology (it's red tea defined by Chinese terms), it's full of buds, the first pick of the season that's not even a quarter oxidized. Its tea liquor is light green and that signature fruity muscatel note makes me swoon with every sip.

A Darjeeling First Flush from Namring Estate nestles on a plate from
Democratic Society's 'Singapore Icons'.
This one is designed by Chang Shian Wei, titled 'HDB',
which stands for public housing built by Housing Development Board.

Tea Talk

From left: Wuyi oolong Rou Gui (武夷肉桂),
Wuyi oolong Lao Shou Xing (武夷老寿星),
and a 2011 Mengku, Yunnan raw pu'er (生普洱，勐库云南).

The tea partner zipped into Malaysia to check out teas from Hojo and Purple Cane, and bought me gifts. Hurrah! Not many people dare to buy me tea. The tea partner does that best. She knows. She's probably the only one who is confident of picking five teas that I'll like.

There're the tea certification courses all over. I think I'll pass. The internships over last two years have indicated that Pekoe & Imp is the only way I want to be involved in tea that provides some sort of commercial transaction with no profits. I've always been certain that I'm not keen to be involved in bigger outfits, plantations, consumer sales, cafes and shops. Neither do I foresee a career in the industry that way. Nothing has changed. What I want, is to continue to be a discerning consumer of teas and whenever possible, share the love with a few.

(This is the point where I want to spew a tank-load of vile about the ex-tea-teacher. But I shall hold my tongue since it's Lent and also, I've roundly dissed her twice on this blog.)

Brought a few packs over to the tea teacher for his perusal during one of our weekly chats. He also likes discovering familiar flavors re-interpreted by tea companies, and how production affects the flavors year on year. Different estates produce varying roasts and ultimately, how a cup of tea will taste. Prices are an indication of quality but not the be-all. Prices can be an indication of scarcity.

Very glad to have found this one in a good friend's father. Not an owner of any teashops or with strong ties to the industry; he's simply a lifelong student of tea. But he's not showy. I respect that. Being a man of science, he dissects it down to specifics, equations and formulas. It's like his, serious hobby. :) Fantastic. He's always happy to talk about tea, but I've never dared to ask him like...if he's willing to talk about it more erm seriously. Finally did so, and he was happy to accede to my request. HURRAH.

At 2 years old, the 2011 raw pu'er is still young. But it promises to taste fruitier.
Shall keep it for a bit and see how it goes.

These Lovely Tea Things

The gifts keep coming in all forms! Meals, coffees, bakes, drinks, handmade beauties, et cetera. The friends are making February a fantastic birthday month. Then, there're all the precious cards with handwritten messages that I'm keeping for as long as the paper doesn't disintegrate. I've moved across five cities and many apartments, and admittedly, many got lost and uh heartbreakingly thrown away. I last moved in 2007. So I've got quite a chunk of cards from then.

Two friends who don't know each other bought me gifts totally matching in color combination, and to a great extent, complementing each other's intention. A stylish tea towel from Sweden and a unique briny pack of sencha from Tokyo's superbly elegant Uogashi-Meicha (うおがし銘茶). Quite amazing. I've never been so tickled by random coincidences. Had to take them out together one afternoon to brew a cup of tea, and take a photo. The friends are getting very clever in the choosing of tea-related gifts for me. Only close friends are this brave to buy me tea paraphernalia. I keep my tea table simple and free of clutter. It's really difficult finding items that I like and will bother to use.

'When I wish upon a star', and by the grace of God, I'm duly blessed with the warmth of friendship. And often, fabulous teas. Thank you.

A mellow cup of Pre-Qingming 2013 Shifeng Long Jing.
(Lion's Peak Dragonwell; green tea.)

年初三 :: 沏茶 :: 马年福禄寿，新年快乐合家欢

The girlfriend's dad suddenly brought out a huge box of tea and said it was for me. Dangggg. It came in one of those Chinese packaging that didn't indicate a hoot of which factory it came from, except that it's a Tie Guan Yin (Iron Goddess, 铁观音). Most unhelpful for newbies. By virtue of it being a Tie Guan Yin, it would be an oolong from Anxi County, Fujian Province. But I wouldn't know if it's a 'greener' type or heavily roasted till a packet is opened.

While I knew that the quality would be decent, I wouldn't know how good till a pack is opened and brewed. The dad likes teas too. It's rare opportunity to be able to meet him when he's in town. Since he was in the mood to linger and chat today, I wanted to brew a cup of tea for him, and at the same time, taste this batch of tea. The friends had no tea paraphernalia at home. Whatever traditional Chinese teapots or teacups they had, weren't 'seasoned' enough to be used. No sweat. I'd use whatever's on hand. If one couldn't brew tea because there aren't 'proper' vessels, that's damn sad. Fundamental principles yo. Those don't change.

Most people own glass, porcelain and fine china items, or at least an English teapot or two. Merrily raided the friends' crockery cabinet for appropriate brewing vessels. The water and the boiler wouldn't be ideal, but I'd make do. I can moderate it by using the usual English bone china teapots.

Found a Wedgewood lidded sugar bowl. Perfect. That would do fine to steep the tea leaves. I'd simply use it as a gaibei (盖杯) . The pour wouldn't be elegant, but no one's grading this. It fitted the purpose. Took the milk jug too, as the holder for the tea before serving it in tiny clear glass espresso cups. Happiness.

Gingerly opened a new pack of tea. Smelt promising. Half the table is sensitive to caffeine. I wouldn't want to do even 3 steeps of this. Without the 'proper' tea vessels, it's almost impossible to attempt 5 steeps. I would do two, and try to produce two starkly different flavors, and hope that the aroma and fragrance would still be able to be discerned.

It was comforting when I realized that the tea was indeed of a good quality. Whewww. It was a hot day and this lightly roasted Tie Guan Yin (清香铁观音) from the spring of 2013 was most soothing the throat, if your body is so inclined to the notions of 'heatiness' and 'cooling'. The table enjoyed the clean fragrance that's typically associated with Tie Guan Yin. And they declared that the first steep tasted different from the second. Great.

A Gorgeous Red

My palate leans towards heavier teas. Love red teas for the aroma and complexity, especially the Yunnan Dian Hong (滇红). 'Red', as defined by the Chinese, and the same tea termed 'black' by Western perspectives. In the world of Chinese teas, 'black' tea doesn't just comprise pu'er. So in the same breath, some Darjeelings, Nilgiri Frost, and Assams, defined as black teas in the Western terminology, are known as red teas in China, and uh some parts of Southeast Asia.

One of the best Kenyan teas in the like of a Dian Hong is curated by Paper and Tea. Their Royal Golden Safari is impressive. The quality of the Kenyan cultivar and leaves isn't inferior to a good grade Dian Hong. The base flavors are similar, but vastly different when sipped. Malt, chocolate and deeply layered, it's one of the most underrated red teas in the world that should not be drunk with milk or sugar. In fact, it doesn't taste as good. I tried, dohh. The briny Assams go better with milk and sugar.

The best part, my friends seem to have some sort of odd understanding when it comes to buying me tea. Unless you're a close friend, no sane human would attempt to buy me tea. Many, without prior discussion, bought teas from Paper and Tea, and gave them to me for Christmas. They bought them online (yes, P & T ships to Singapore) or in Berlin directly. I was beyond thrilled. These people asked outright what are the teas I like from which tea shops, all over the world. They asked me way back in September and October. So I didn't suspect a thing. Super smart lor. I thought they were getting recommendations to gift teas to others.

Brewing tea for Pekoe & Imp workshops is starkly different from brewing under more controlled circumstances. Even with a carefully crafted algebraic formula, teas served out at workshops aren't as perfect or gorgeous as those I brew for four to six humans at home or at a cosy venue with controlled environmental factors. I still love to brew tea for myself, consider the quality of the leaves versus my expectations, decide on the vessels for the tea, and how they would be used. Then brew up a big cup of gorgeous amber or ochre liquid, sip the blessings of friends and luxuriate in the quietude of the moment.

The Work Year Is Done

One of my fav gaiwans in black. There, I even like tea ware in mainly monotones.
Preferably black and white.

Final tea workshops of the year were rounded up over the weekend. There, the work year is beautifully done on this front. Certainly, it's been a very short work year that has brought us a lot of joy. Human interaction exhausts me, and that's probably why I really prefer to hide behind the counter to play with teapots and all, and behind a computer screen, leaving the partner to front it and be the face of Pekoe & Imp.

We've earned zero profit, but a rough count (with the help of Excel) indicated that we did break even on the purchase of tea leaves. Forget the purchase of tea wares, air tickets and accommodation, or the man-hours. Those can only be funded out of our own pockets and passion, and not from any business profits. Is this a good model? Yes, if we hold our 'day jobs', to speak, or there's another steady stream of income to fund this serious hobby. Otherwise, this isn't an ideal money-making model.

On this note, there's a need to shoutout to Facebook as a communications channel. We've been diligent on the brand page. It has definitely helped us spread the word and build our branding. We never pay for ads or write-ups, don't offer free workshops, don't accept freebies or ask for sponsorships, determined to stay true to our neutrality and beliefs in this particular business venture. Limited advertising, virtually zero Yet, our workshops have been running full. For that, we're grateful.

The tea partner and I discussed about next year. Still feeling fine with each other; we want to continue doing this. Dunno how it can furthered in terms of expanding behind the pop-up concept of workshops. Although we're sure the business model mustn't go down the road of a cafe or a retail shop. Don't care. Inspiration will hit when it hits. There has been goodwill and consistency built-up for this little brand. While the passion burns, we'd like to pour our heart into nurturing Pekoe & Imp. Till 2014.

For Left-Handers

Porcelain, part of Lin's Ceramics Studio's (陶作坊) 'Ju Ware' series.

Yeah, I write with my right hand. Sketch, sometimes. Pool is played with the right hand. So is the guitar (don't love it so much to get a custom-shop leftie) and whatever. But I play golf and hockey with my left hand. Bought left-handed clubs and sticks. It controls the aim so much better. It's my stronger hand. My somersaults, splits and whatnots, and the more flexible limbs, are unsuprisingly, the left.

No, this isn't comprehensively indicative of my political leanings as a concerned citizen of a suitably democratic affluent and efficient republic.

When it comes to brewing tea, I prefer to use the left hand. But sadly, most teapots are meant for right-handers. Which is probably why when I pick a lidded cup or bowl, otherwise known as gai-wan or gai-bei (蓋碗或蓋杯), they should be able to be used on either side.

They make so few items of tea ware for left-handers that each time I see one in the retail shops, it gets really tempting to own it. Was thrilled when I found the rare few in the Taipei shops. Unfortunately, many weren't made in the material I wanted. So had to leave them on the shelf. But I had to take photos!

Lin's Ceramics Studio (陶作坊) calls this material 'purion'. 

逛街 :: 看茶具 :: 賞陶瓷

The gallery of Jioufen Teahouse.

Went into the right stores, saw gorgeous tea ware and accompanying items, but I didn't have the urge to buy everything in sight. There's a shopping list and it must be adhered to. Storage space is limited, and clutter isn't ideal. The age of mad acquisition is over, and now, there has to be a good reason for all purchases.

All the debate about what's good to brew tea with. Glad I waited it out before getting all the tea ware. Now that I know so much more about the teas, their characteristics and interaction with all factors, I'm more assured of my own brewing style. It effectively seals all future tea ware to be bought because I know exactly the sort of design desired, or required.

There's also this inventory at home. If I buy something, something else would have to be thrown out. Not a hoarder and definitely don't want to do the 'buy first and think what to do with this later'. If I can't justify a purchase, it stays on the shelf. The partner (the girl) teased, "What if you dream about it at night?" Ah well. I might. But the years have shown that it doesn't make me happier to own something or pass it over for nothing.

All the cute stuff at 品墨良行小餅乾小兔子 (Pinmo Biscuit Rabbit Café).
Apparently it used to be in Kaoshiung, but has now moved up to Taipei.

Taipei has superbly beautiful wares. Never mind the traditional designs. Not too into that. But the Japanese influence is heavy and there're so many shops retailing wares with clean lines and minimalist designs. So many things to go ooh and ahhh over.

It really didn't help that for the first two days, I was royally confused over exchange rates. The partner and I were debating about a vessel to purchase for Pekoe & Imp. The price tag stated '$4500'. I dithered. I thought it over-the-moon expensive. The partner thought it was reasonable. I frowned. She frowned, then grinned, "Woman, it's to be divided by 23 lah!" OHHH. I was still converting prices like I was in Hong Kong.

Enjoyed the vibes of the various stores we wandered into. Lovely decor, both modern and traditional. No one made us feel unwelcome or in a hurry to hustle us out. They allowed us to take our time to sample teas, touch and linger over tea ware, chat, take photos and write notes.

Ceramics by Tetsuya Otani (of Otani Pottery Studio) at 小器,
a store retailing beautiful Japanese wares.

臺北，我們又過來找茶和茶具了

Stretch!

It's been having to fly Jetstar to Taipei on these work trips. It has to be, for solidarity, and in protest of SQ's crazy ticket prices to the city. It's still a novel feeling paying for baggage allowance, and a recently discovered piece of information that Jetstar also charged S$16 for the convenience of online payment via credit card at the point of booking. I never realized, till this trip.

Inflight, it's been pretty decent lah, so long I get to choose a seat. We fly in early and fly out late- I can always sleep for at least three-quarters of the flight; meals don't matter as long a bottle of water is obtainable. Plug in them earplugs, turn on the iPod, and I was all settled in for quite a comfortable ride up.

Don't know why Taipei loves Hello Kitty so much that their EVA Air Hello Kitty planes are flying everywhere. The bff loves that cat. UGH. The Hello Kitty assault began in the plane on the way up, with Hello Kitty sneakers on an adult bobbing up and down the aisle to the toilet. *shudder Almost keeled over when I saw Dong Ding oolong tea packed into Hello Kitty canisters. But I should have seen that coming. 

The last of blue skies would be seen from the plane. The weather forecast warns of rain and grey skies all through the week. Our friends in Taipei said that it's been dreary and it would literally rain all week, non-stop, 24/7. I was this close to considering wearing Wellies here. But never mind, boots will do. I won't be slushing about in the mud and tea plantations. Mountains surrounding Taipei are too gentle and most are paved with decent paths and roads.

Make no mistake, this is purely business. Like the previous two trips, it's going to be intense, not to be undertaken with people who aren't tea enthusiasts. Every day, every hour is about tea. I'm not even sure I can get coffee on a daily basis. But I will try. If I don't get that, I'll be immensely grouchy. I already miss speaking in Cantonese. Visiting Taipei thrice within a year has given me a slight dread of our itinerary versus food to be found, and of its food in general. There're energy bars in the bag, but I'm going to regret not bringing a bottle of sambal belachan.

Getting A Feel For Clay

Aside from daily tea lessons, I also made time to attend a couple of classes on pottery and ceramics too. Mainly to understand the properties and feel of the different clay out there.

No way I could ever hand-pinch a cup, bowl or shape a proper vase on a pottery wheel. Those pristine shapes just don't completely appeal to me. I like irregular-shapes and raw textures. Can't seem to get the clay to mould the way I want. That simply means I've got neither talent nor aptitude for this art. It's not a hobby I'll consistently pursue. It'll be a craft that I want to understand to a slightly beyond-amateur level, to the extent that's sufficient for me to comprehend the interaction of clay, water and ultimately tea. Heh.

The girlfriend, however, liked making bowls and cups. She attended one short session with me and rather enjoyed it. She got down to work very quickly whereas I simply flitted around, in a hurry to just finish...something. I went for making flat plates and trays, etc. Those, I feel for. It's then a matter of finding the tools to make pretty patterns on them.

Now the problem is, whatever I've made, would only be fired and ready for use in uh three to four weeks. By now, I've worked out the November schedule, and it's certain that I wouldn't be popping back to Hong Kong for Clockenflap. Need to see which friends love us enough to help us collect the glazed wares and send it over to Singapore. Or ask the studio to keep them till January or something.

Tea & Work

First cup tea I went for upon coming home for the weekend, was to brew the savory-sweet gyokuro at a superbly low temperature. Too many Chinese teas imbibed in Hong Kong. Needed fruity Darjeelings and Japanese greens. Had to use a strainer. Most Japanese teas require a strainer. Ugh. Otherwise, I might as well be drinking a soup with green bits. Most satisfying.

Oddly rejuvenated from the time in Hong Kong spent learning from the tea masters. It made for a wonderful weekend of work at Pekoe & Imp. As always, it's the interaction that creates new insights and perspectives on what we do. That's immensely satisfying. Heading back to the city for more exciting experiences. I love how much the city has to offer.

Of Course There's Time For Tea

One major point of this trip is to also consolidate tea knowledge and acquire new ideas. A girlfriend in Hong Kong is very learned about tea, and I had earlier begged her to allocate some time for a chat with me. I got more than that. Oh happiness.

I've also been hanging out at many tea shops, sitting quietly with the tea masters. It did take every ounce of etiquette not to retort to every other statement I disagree with. Bit my tongue and listened, sieving out what I wished to absorb, and keeping the rest in mind to be chewed upon later.

One evening, I took a long walk through the less glitzy streets of Kowloon, stumbled upon this gem of a scene in the middle of the lane- look at the tea set placed on the chairs! The owner of the nearby store must like tea. He saw me stare at it to sneak a photo. He came over and offered me a friendly cup of darkly roasted Tie Guan Yin. Totally unexpected. So lovely. :)

About Taiwanese Food And Humans

It's been a while since I read such a gorgeous book. This is a kinda like a food guide, and novel lumped together. I like how the stories are titled- of popular Taiwanese street food and desserts. 焦桐's《臺灣舌頭》.

I've no idea what the author Jiao Tung's latest book is titled in English. But this is the third and final one in a series about Taiwanese food. First with《台湾味道》、then《 台湾肚皮》and finally this《台湾舌頭》to comprise a trilogy “台湾味道三部曲”. I love his writing and observations. Need to hunt down the other two books.

Each story is titled and centred around 46 types of food associated with Taiwan. Food, emotions and humans are all inextricably linked. The titles are awesome, say, 《菜脯蛋》、《地瓜粥》、《魚丸湯》、《棺材板》、《牛舌餅》、《木瓜牛奶》et cetera. At the end of each story, there're a few addresses listed for the good ones in a particular region. Not as though I'm going to hunt them down. I probably like reading about food more than eating it. (If you read Chinese, reviews are here, here and here.)

These 46 stories, while talking about a certain kind of food, are fairly reflective and centred about humans too. The author wishes to mesh the flavors of food to the experiences of life, in Chinese, poetically referred to as the sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, salty and astringent. 所謂“酸甜苦辣咸、涩”。In an interview, the author said, “我在书写的时候就想到食物的性格，会有一些东西自己跑来找我，我就回想起来或联想到一些事情，可能是文学掌故、文化故事、某些文化的脉络、或我的生活经验，刚好可以结合在一起。”

It's a beautifully written book. Simple language, poignant experiences that could only have been lived through. Thoroughly enjoyable. The first story is titled 《臺灣啤酒》('Taiwan beer'), which already made me chuckle. He wrote about his memories of writers' gatherings and beer, preferably finishing beer in one shot once it was out of the chiller. Towards the end of the book, he reminisces, thinking that the foam head of the beer ought to be treasured, like all good things that had to be seized in time and don't let it pass by.

棺材板留下西餐東漸的脈絡，西方飲食文化衝擊的痕跡，烙印著求新求變的精神。如今是一種逐漸式微的小吃，性格又憨又拙。 

~《棺材板》

Was so curious about《棺材板》. Haven't heard of it. Had to google. Obviously after I learnt what it is, I've zero interest in eating it. Apparently it's called 'coffin bread', a Hakka-style interpretation of French toast or bread bowl soups. The Taiwan version is filled with savory stuffings, often chicken liver, or any kind of meat. The writer also goes into a rhetoric about dining etiquette, reinterpretations of western food and influences, and made vague references to Taiwan politics and social culture.

多年前全家人一起旅行日月潭，面對著湖光山色，像面對著人生的風雲煙波。我每天都想再沏一壺日月潭的紅茶，即興如爵士樂，每一次都品它意外地變化，像生命的轉折，有時鬱苦，有時欣喜。 

~《日月紅茶》

The book touched on tea too. Hehehe. What a surprise! In fact, the author's most private memories also include tea. It ends with two stories- 《日月紅茶》和《文山包種茶》, of the famous recent new red tea (made in 1926, the Hong Yu) from Sun Moon Lake, and the lightest oolong ever known in the tea world- the Wenshan Pouchong. He remembers the sort of memories recalled from drinking tea in school and with his family, and oddly, the last story of the book, is really sad. It closes with《文山包種茶》, a story remembering his wife of 33 years- 秀麗 'Xiuli', whom he lost to lung cancer. He writes of brewing the Wenshan Pouchong for her in a special white porcelain teacup, a tea purportedly chockful of antioxidants good for cancer patients.

As the last page was flipped, I realized that I don't recall very much about the food. What's stuck in my mind are his memories, little bits here and there. Most of all, I was struck with an incredibly strong craving for a brew of Wenshan Pouchong and Ping Lin's Oriental Beauty. So I dug out tea leaves and assorted paraphernalia, brewed tea, and re-read certain passages. :)

Teakha

The awesome Nana Chan finally gave up being a lawyer and went ahead to indulge in her passion for tea, and opened Teakha (茶。家) at Tai Ping Shan Street (太平山街) in Sheung Wan, a quiet residential alcove that is now home to a burgeoning number of hip cafes, coffee shops, independent clothing stores and art galleries. Nearby, affiliated arts events space Plantation (茶莊) has opened too.

Still picturesque in an urban sprawl of buildings with all its nooks and crannies, the streets were absolutely fascinating. I was instantly happy once I wandered uphill and found the couple of happy streets in that familiar style that new chic modern indie stores. It was a tough decision deciding which one to pop into, and because I only had a short window of time, the stop had to be at Teakha.

The cafe was packed out on a busy afternoon. The indoor seating is so tiny that most people sit outdoors. Hot, yes. But the humidity wasn't unbearable. The girlfriend and I were decked out in super casual light clothes and had no problems with hanging out without a/c for a bit. What a lovely little space Teakha occupied. Love the vibes.

We passed on the homemade fig scones and cakes. Masala chai was good, but remember each shop does it differently, and this one is more delicate than spicy. We were happy to see it boiling in a saucepan before they served it. The cold brew chrysanthemum oolong was quite lovely. Chrysanthemum petals were meshed in a refreshing light fragrant Taiwanese oolong with honey notes. Might be off the mark, but I was almost certain that a Li Shan oolong was used. :)