It’s not yellow. Let’s get that out of the way first.
The leaves are as green as Act One in Sonic. And the drink; well, green tea makes a pale yellow drink anyway, so there’s no room for differentiation there.
It all reminds me of that ad for Canada’s Red Rock cider; “It’s not red and there are no rocks in it”.
But, for Westerners like me, there’s perhaps always been a need for “Yellow Tea” to exist.
Fascinated by the variety of Camellia Sinensis; from oxidised to unoxidised, with additional parameters like fermentation, baking and firing; I’m in love with the idea that this plant can spawn infinite permutations.
Chameleon Sinensis.
Rosé barely takes the complex world of wine to three core hues. And cheese cheats, by requiring extra ingredients to earn its colours (though “blue” is a microbial show stopper to rival any pu’er!)
Just looking at that spectrum of tea colours, it seems logical that there should be a yellow nestling in there between green and red. And actually, it’s not only unfresh green teas in musty jars that have yellowish green leaves. This name category deserves to exist. Several varieties, including 毛峰 (Mao Feng), brush close to the yellow boundary.
- Happy Lemon; Drink it Like a Russian
- Like Broccoli, Love Tea; Hate Cabbage, Love Coffee!
- Sichuan Green, the Superior Tea?
Actually, Mao Feng is what I thought I was buying just before our voluntary quarantine began. I’d asked specifically for that. And this stuff in the tall plastic bag on the floor looked similar enough.
When the seller named it “黄牙” (Huang Ya), I assumed it to be a sub-category of Mao Feng, which, of course, comes from 黄山 (Huang Shan), the “Yellow Mountain” range in Anhui.
I’d completely forgotten that there exists a whole “yellow tea” category in China. I didn’t think that, for the first time, I was buying some.
I was hoping to score some of that vegetal, pea-soupy Mao Feng flavour. And, luckily, Huang Ya fully delivers in just that way. It’s been great tea for these strange months. It’s soothed me more often than it’s fuelled my lockdown meltdowns.
And now I am running out of the stuff, I must go and check up on that seller. Actually, I fear the worst for his small business. I’m ashamed to admit that I am writing this before I have checked on him.
- Sea Tea from the Mountains of Qingdao
- Red or Dead; Teas with a Swagger
- Virgin Plastic meets Chinese Green Tea
Next time I write about this tea in Strainer, I shall mention more details about its origin and taste, instead of flippantly discussing its nomenclature. Yes, I’m tempted to say “Naked Mao Feng” would be my name for this great tea, since it lacks the hairs possessed by many examples of that variety. But calling it that would spoil this “traffic lights of tea” effect.
I’m guessing that the Chinese tea world has christened this tea “yellow” for mostly those reasons above, as well as the connection with the revered Yellow Mountains, of course. Could there be an Imperial connection, I wonder?
So now we’ve rounded out the traffic lights, is it going to be possible to push the envelope even further? What chance a blue tea?
Well, if this yellow tea comes from Yellow Mountain, surely that creates an opportunity for a famous foreign mountain range. Baidu suggests that there is no “蓝山” (Blue Mountain) in China, except a chain of coffee shops. Come on, Australia. Here is your chance to shine in tea!
And, by the way, has anyone heard of a purple mountain existing anywhere in the world?
