In the great plethora of tea terms, color designations, and nomenclature, there is a risk of losing the fundamentals of tea. With the terms and hype, the basics often struggle for acknowledgement or even an understanding amid a tea growing base of drinkers. White tea, with its antioxidant-laden white ‘end buds’, isn’t the only tea where one can take in the power of the white.
Sitting in one of the many tea houses of Kunming recently, I was to witness something very un-Chinese, something very ‘un-tea-ish’, but something very necessary and refreshing: a full-on explosion of indignation from a drinker and prospective tea buyer. It had to do with the ‘white buds’ in a tea … or rather the lack thereof.
The ‘action’ stemmed from a subtle slight of hand that is occurring more and more often in the mainland, with regard to the amount of light-colored buds (often referred to as the ‘white’) within a tea. High amounts of these precious, flavor and antioxidant-rich end ‘flags’ or young leaves usually indicates a very decent tea, whether it is a green, oolong, or Pu’er. For many buyers, the presence of these light colored buds is one of the vital ‘musts’ before any purchase is made. The slippery, underhanded elements within the business of tea, however, are now able to essentially ‘coat’ a tea cake, nest, or brick of tea, so that the outside layer appears to be laden with these white buds, convincing a buyer that the entire cake is thus ‘gifted’. Where the outward signs are promising, within the formed tea shape, it is a different story all together. Rip off a chunk of tea and underneath one finds a completely different tea…devoid of the buds. In this way the cosmetics of the external cake differ greatly from the substance within. It is this less than honest approach which reared itself on a mild afternoon in Kunming. I have drifted into the tea market area that I frequent when ‘thirsty’, down a small side-street where the tea trade takes place much as it has for an eternity.
Within the tea house, I sat sipping a Pu’er from the region of Lincang in western Yunnan. I’ve long maintained a kind of gentle skepticism of any tea house that I don’t know intimately, but they do offer a repose of free tea, some quiet from the city, and occasionally a kernel of wonderful information or a discovery of a classic tea. The tea in question, from Lincang, was being touted and served by a lean man with a thick thatch of hair and thin lips. He was speaking about the tea’s great quality and of its “tangs”, of its incredible lineage in the region…and he spoke at length of the amount of light colored buds that are visible on the cake’s surface. Three men sip with me and it is clear that they are experienced buyers and fervent tea drinkers. While the tea nourishes, it isn’t special in my frame of reference.
When one of the three asks if he can see the cake, our host momentarily hesitates, muttering something, but finally hands over the tea cake after being pushed. The three drinkers, who sport short square-top hair-cuts and immaculate shirts, are interested in potentially buying 70 kg’s of the tea, which will amount to several thousand dollars. This desire to see and inspect the tea isn’t at all unusual, which is why the hesitation is a bit strange.
One buyer tears off a chunk of the tea cake without warning to ‘look inside’. He holds the tea cake under light and lets out a noise, passing it to his two comrades, who in their turn glare and start simultaneously berating the host, who has retreated slightly. Then, one of the three hands me the cake – as if to confide – pointing to the insides of the tea cake, pointing out with vicious jabs of his finger, the lack of white buds that appear so densely on the outside. It is true…the tea inside and out seems to be two different teas altogether. A premium is paid for a tea with a higher levels of buds and no buyer will complain, if, and only if, this is consistent within the cake as well as the external coating.
Tea shop owners, sellers, traders and even growers, will often point out the high concentration of light or ‘white’ buds within a given cake or loose leaf offering. In such a way, a tea’s quality (or at least one of the markers of a good tea) is on show.
Meanwhile, around me the hostilities continue, with the tea shop’s owner’s “brother” coming in on the act and soon there is a full-on yelling match going on. This is serious business. Tea for many (including myself), is something that transcends simply being a business. It is a luxury, a ritual, and an addiction of sorts, in one small package of green. It is likely that this firework display will go on, and there is even a point where the threats extend to violent reprisals for this current tea crisis.
The tea shop owner and his brother are on the defensive, claiming they know nothing of this ‘slight’, but in fact they must know they have no possible chance of escaping this discovery. One irony of the tea cake swindling that is going on is that to produce a fake is almost more time-consuming than producing a legitimate tea cake; the difference being there are far fewer of the precious white buds. It is for such a reason that many Pu’er tea purchasers prefer buying loose leaf, as in the loose form it is more difficult to ‘hide’ a tea’s illegitimate qualities. The drawback for some buyers is that in loose leaf form a Pu’er’s natural fermentation process is to some degree stymied, leaving some buyers feeling it is less authentic.
Threats of bringing the equivalent of the “department of business” in on the act, have the argument spiraling into a frenzy of attacks and useless counter-attacks. I decide the time has come to slip out. It is unfortunately not the first time I’ve seen this bit of ‘tea-deception’ and it is something that isn’t limited to Asia – these ‘false teas’ appear in one form or another in Europe and North America as well, though the tea buying population knows less of this swindling (nor what to look for) than in the Asian markets.
White tea, light colored buds, and the smallest supplest leaves on a tea tree or bush have become a rage world-wide because of their purported (and in many cases substantiated) health claims. With higher levels of antioxidants, and containing the crucial, delicate fragrances and flavonoids, the end-buds have the power to increase the worth of a tea but they are more rare than traditional teas. With worth brings the unfortunate aspect of attempts to ‘fake’ or manipulate a tea.
Genuine white teas like Yin Zhen (Silver needle) – which is highly prized and rare – and Fu Ding (a very good but more reasonable white tea) are fully ‘white teas’ with downy hairs coating the leaves. The tea plants are intended to produce a white tea, and are often located in the ideal location in a plantation because of their delicate needs. A Yin Zhen might be as much as $10.00 per ounce, and the total harvested amount might be as little as a couple of kilos annually, from a reputable plantation. The light colored buds in a tea like Pu’er, green, or even an oolong, are similar to a ‘white tea’ in that they are very young buds that contain more of the vital antioxidants and subtle flavors, thus adding to the value. The difference is that they are part of the greater whole, so to speak, rather than the entirety. In China’s rich tea history, white tea was once the beverage of choice for Emperors and men and women of means, given its rarity. In the days of yore, faking a tea was sometimes enough to warrant a death sentence.
A white tea, and its essential buds, may come from the identical tea plants that produce both green and black teas. One main difference to distinguish them is that a ‘white’ tea is treated only to a light drying and very gentle processing, whereas the more sturdy camellia assamica (Pu’er) and some hybrid varietals’ leaves are all treated to a withering, frying and drying.
I attempt to slip out of the heated argument, which seems only to increase in intensity, when I am held up by one of the three potential buyers, who gesticulates madly and tells me that “this is what is destroying one of our national past-times…liars and cheats”. At this word “liar” (pien ren in Mandarin) the tea host seems to lose the plot entirely, looking as though he will try and strike out with a hand or wild swing. Though this sort of aggression isn’t the norm, I’ve seen these reactions before in Asia regarding tea and its ‘falsification’.
It doesn’t come to violence before I leave, but upon reflection later, after I did make a retreat out onto the side street, I try to imagine such a remonstration in the west about a simple leaf, such vehemence and hostility about a beverage. Perhaps a bottle of expensive wine that turned out to be plonk might inspire a bit of the same ire. The time is coming though– as people consume more of these ‘special’ teas, the knowledge base will swell and, thankfully, so will the expectation of a great tea. At that point, who knows what the result of tea treachery could bring.




















