Floral Oolong from the Wuyi Mountains

If someone asked me to choose a tea for a first meeting with Wuyi rock oolongs, this is the one I would brew. Gentle, floral, with no harshness. And with an aroma that lasts to the very last cup.

I show how I brew this tea and hold a tea ceremony in the video at the end of the article.

What’s in a name

The tea is called Zui Hua Yin. It is a poetic name: it comes from an old melody to which poems were written. The most famous of them were composed by Li Qingzhao, the great poet of the Song dynasty. It translates roughly as “the tipsy shade of flowers”.

The Chinese love giving tea names like this. And this one suits it: after a couple of cups your head grows quiet and a little festive.

Where it comes from

Wuyishan is a mountain range in the north of Fujian province. It is the home of rock oolongs, “yancha” in Chinese, which means “rock tea”. The bushes grow in gorges between the cliffs, on poor, stony soil. Fog, humidity, little direct sun.

The leaf grows slowly here and gains what the Chinese call “yan yun”, the “rock rhyme”. It is a light mineral echo in the taste, the mark by which Wuyi tea is recognised.

Zui Hua Yin is made from the Qilan cultivar. It is one of the most fragrant cultivars grown in Wuyi, with a bright floral character.

How it is made

After rolling, rock oolongs are roasted over heat, traditionally over charcoal. It is long and delicate work: the master returns to the tea several times until it has the right character.

That is where the warm notes in the cup come from: honey, caramel, a touch of roasted grain. And the floral side of Qilan does not go anywhere. The result is a balance, and it is the reason I love this tea: flowers and warmth, lightness and depth.

What’s in the cup

The liquor is clean, amber and clear. You catch the aroma at once: orchid, honey, light caramel. And sometimes the freshness of grass after rain.

The tea opens up gradually. The first cups are honeyed, with a soft roast and a delicate orchid. The third and fourth are the richest: the flowers come forward and the honey thickens. By the seventh or eighth the taste grows lighter, but the aroma stays.

No harshness, no heaviness. The finish is warm and long, like a good evening you don’t want to end.

How I brew it

• A gaiwan or porcelain works best: they keep the aroma pure. A clay teapot will make the taste softer and rounder.
• I warm all the teaware with boiling water. The leaf should go into a hot gaiwan, so the aroma opens more evenly.
• Water at 90–95 °C.
• I don’t weigh the leaf, I go by feel. If you need a guide, start with 6–7 g per 100–120 ml.
• I pour off the first infusion straight away: it wakes the leaf. You don’t have to drink it, but it is worth smelling.
• After that, 15–20 seconds, adding 5–10 seconds with each infusion.
• The tea easily gives 7–8 infusions.

When to drink it

This tea neither excites nor makes you sleepy. I like it best in the evening, over a conversation or after a busy day, when you need to breathe out but keep a clear head. It is good in the morning too, if you want to start the day calmly, without a coffee jolt.

Just remember: it is still tea, and it does contain caffeine. I wouldn’t drink it right before bed.

Instead of a conclusion

Zui Hua Yin suits both someone just discovering rock oolongs and someone who has drunk them for years. It won’t scare a beginner with harshness, and it will hold a connoisseur’s attention with how it changes from cup to cup.

It is like a good companion: never raises its voice, yet you remember it.

This tea and others from my collection are coming soon to the Tea shop.