Tag Archives: Rikyu

Making tea in time of work


(IMAGE: Rather than distract from work, tea can be used to fortify one’s focus. How to do that is the challenge.)

Dear beloved blog readers,

I will admit, making tea isn’t always convenient. Sometimes bringing out the yixing teapot or gaiwan or ceramic chawan (茶碗, “tea bowl”) just isn’t practical when I’m in work “crunch mode”.

Lately I’ve been working on a variety of projects and , well, sometimes tea can get pushed to the bottom of my “to do” list. However, like anything in life, there is a gong fu to approaching tea in the time of work. In this entry, I’m going to share some of my insights into this, and, as always, I hope to hear some of yours as well.

Become part of the 99%

Tea people love their tea and love their teaware. Speaking from personal experience, when given the chance I will almost always use a teapot. The act of making tea in this manner is centering and can change my mental attitude. Studies have even shown that meditative acts like this can even alter one’s neurological state. That said, setting up the tea equipage can take time and has the potential of shifting focus away from a particular priority.

The “work around” for this tea in time for work is to make tea like most of the world (certainly most of Asia) makes their tea: the jar.

Taking just a handful of tea leaves and placing them into a jar and pouring hot-warm water over them can do wonders. The glass walls of a jar will quickly dissipate any excess heat, and the added transparency offers a view into the “progress” of the steep. Filtering the tea leaves is simple: your teeth and gravity is all that’s needed. For this point, I generally brew larger leaf teas for jar tea like Tai Ping Hou Kui 太平猴魁, Taiwanese high mountain oolongs 高山烏龍茶, and da ye (大葉, “big leaf”) puer.


(IMAGE: Making semi-wild Tai Ping Hou Kui 太平猴魁 green tea using the jar tea method produces a gorgeous liqueur and balanced flavor.)

When the tea becomes too strong, I add more water. From what I’ve observed, more robust and balanced steeping a come from this method rather than drinking all of the tea and then refilling the empty jar. Likewise, I find that as the tea cools after a long steeping the flavors become more pronounced and complex. Maybe this is why jar tea is so popular!

Mizuya cha: “kitchen matcha”

Another quick tea alternative is to go the matcha route sans the ceremony. In Japan this is called mizuya cha (水屋茶, みずやちゃ), or “water room tea”, referring to the small preparation room that is often attached to a Japanese tearoom/teahouse (茶室, chashitsu). In traditional tea ceremonies where there are often large numbers of guest, only one (or sometimes just a few) tea bowls of matcha are ceremoniously prepared. The remainder are prepared “off stage” and are offered to guests pre-made.

In modern day practice, mizuya cha typically translates to “kitchen tea”, or tea simply made in the comfort of one’s own kitchen, devoid of the “ceremony”. Making tea this way, with a bowl (either traditional chawan or even a basic rice bowl), a whisk, and hot water can be done within a matter of minutes and can offer a quick respite from work without breaking “the flow”.

(IMAGE: An antique Japanese Hagi chawan used for today’s mizuya cha has its historical origins in Korean rice bowls, which were treasured by the likes of 16th century tea master Sen no Rikyu for their functionality and informal nature.)

What’s great here too is that making tea in this manner is still very much part of the “tea mind” cultivated in Chanoyu (茶の湯, lit. “hot water for tea”, the practice of Japanese tea ceremony), stressing lack of formality and a humble manner of “just making tea”. So long as your mind and heart are still in it, this way of making tea can still be a meditative act.

(IMAGE: An antique Japanese Hagi chawan is paired with a contemporary negoro-nuri black-and-red lacquer chashaku teascoop balance the informality of making tea in the kitchen.)

Drinking from the teapot

My last “pro tip” for today is maybe my favorite guilty pleasure.

Again, I love teaware (especially yixing teapots), and when there is any excuse to use a finely-crafted piece I will. That said, having the whole “gong fu cha kit” at my desk or work table (or park bench) can quickly clutter the work space and mind. To avoid this, I pare everything down to their most elemental: just the teapot.

With just a teapot, one is left with really just one option: to drink directly from the teapot. While this might seem a bit ungainly (and for those opposed to public breastfeeding, a bit reminiscent and disturbing… for the record, I’m all for public breastfeeding, it’s natural, let people be free damn it!), it is very effective and has historical precedent.

While I am currently unable to cite historical documentation to back this up, I have had countless tea farmers, merchants, and masters tell me that they do this and that their parents, grandparents, and great grandparents have done this. Some have even gone so far as to say that this was the particular habit of the young, well-heeled scholarly/playboy brats of the late Qing/early Republic era. I, too, have done this on numerous occasions, sauntering down streets in San Francisco sipping from my small teapot and wandering into local establishments to get a “top-off” of warm water. (I have yet to do this in New York City, but hope to soon)

The results of brewing this way is quite remarkable, offering a level of control and intimacy with the tea not available through more “orthodox” means. Like brewing with a jar, one should use warm water, obviously so as not to scald one’s hand while holding the teapot, but also to achieve a smooth and balanced brew.


(IMAGE: For drinking directly from the teapot, I favor my 1980s duan ni Xi Shi hu (鍛泥西施壺). The shape of the pot feels good in the hand and the spout is easy to drink from.)

Also, by cradling the teapot in your hand and using your thumb to press and release the top hole of the teapot lid as a carburetor, you can adjust the flow of the tea from teapot to mouth. Speaking again from experience, I typically find more success drinking directly from the spout, rather than pouring the liquid into my mouth (however, this is completely up to you, though the aforementioned approach can get messy).

What works for you while working?

For sure this is a very basic “list” of approaches to making tea in time of work. As always, the environment is going to dictate what works best for you (and for the tea). This is where we as tea people can be creative.

So, what works for you? How do you make tea while working…and how do you strike that balance between quality of work and brew? As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

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Filed under Ceramics, Education, Green Tea, History, Japan, Oolong, Pu-erh, Tea, Tea Tasting

Making tea on a boat: the gong fu of making a tea set

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(IMAGE: Taking tea outside is a true joy. Taking tea on a boat is a new challenge!)

Dear beloved blog readers,

Over this past Labor Day weekend, I and a few of my close friends were invited to set sail upon the wonderful waters surrounding New York City (technically Brooklyn). Being a tea person, I took this as an opportunity to bring tea along with me and treat my friends and the boat’s captain to tea. The challenge here would be how to pack for the tea outing, especially given the nature of being on a boat. The answer would test my gong fu cha skills. In today’s post, I offer my approach to this, as well as tips to those looking to take tea outside!

Keep it simple

Making tea is always a matter of pairing-down life to its most basic. The tea, the water, the vessel; little more is needed to produce remarkable results. Even in the confines of one’s home, office, or elsewhere, the “luxury” of tea really is less about living luxuriously and more about just finding the means to re-connect with a more straightforward way of living, thinking, and doing. As the 20th century Zen Buddhist teacher Shunryu Suzuki said, meditation and even enlightenment was “nothing special” in that it was already apparent to us in the acts of everyday life.

This “less is more” mentality is especially important in making tea outside. Packing just a small collection of teas with an all-purpose vessel works wonders. In the case of the boat outing, I packed a glass gaiwan (which I rarely use, but seem to love more when used in situations like these) and a few single-servings of stellar teas (an aged Fuding baicha, a collection of various oolongs, and two tuo cha (沱茶): a sheng pu-erh from Yiwu and a 1985 sheng from Menghai). Additionally, I made sure to pack enough small cups for everyone.

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(IMAGE: Keeping it simple: A glass gaiwan is well-suited to brew every tea type.)

Hot water is life

Being an avid outdoor tea drinker (as well as a seasoned backpacker), I am well aware of how much water is the “limiting factor” to the tea equation. Throughout the history of tea, locating and boiling water has always been the starting point to making great tea. Nowhere is this more true than in the first known monograph on tea, Lu Yu’s Cha Jing (茶經, The Classic of Tea), where much of his writing is dedicated to outlining various grades of water, how to boil water, and how to store water. Later tea scholars would continue to develop upon this subject given the importance water plays in making tea.

In regards to my own solution, I’ve chosen to use filtered water and bring it along through the employment of a rather ingenious (and lucky find) of a vintage twin thermos picnic set. In total, the thermoses pack 2 quarts, which is a perfect amount for several tea brewing sessions.

thermos

(IMAGE: Two vintage Stanley thermoses, perfect for tea.)

Making a set

Creating tea sets is a bit like jazz: putting together the necessary components is a matter of improvisation, in how it plays with the key players (in this case, to the tea, tea vessel, water containers, and tea cups), to the audience, and to the environment its presented. To make a truly great tea set, it should speak to the moment, to form following function, and to the notion most treasured by 16th century tea master Sen no Rikyu of ichi-go ichi-e (一期一会, “one time, one meeting”). In this regard, the tea set should reflect the situation and the intent on making the best out of just a little.

In the case of the tea set that I assembled for the sailing trip, I was again lucky with the vintage thermos set. As an original 1970s Stanley thermos picnic set, not only did it come with two thermoses, but also a leather carrying case and tin “lunch box”. As a re-purposed tea set, this “lunch box” worked perfectly: its construction was compact and sturdy, and the lid had the added benefit of doubling as a tea tray during brewing and serving. The lip of the lid would also help to keep the gaiwan and teacups from tipping over on a rocky boat.

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(IMAGE: A top-down view of tea brewing in action. Note the lid of the thermos picnic set’s “lunch box” serving as a tea tray.)

Keeping items safe for the journey ahead

Putting everything together, from the gaiwan to the teas to the teacups, was in itself a mindful act. Using Japanese furoshiki and wrapping each fragile item separately ensured they would not have the chance to easily break on the voyage. For the loose teas, I used small containers I had made from emptied matcha canisters (which I had wrapped in washi paper for aesthetic purposes). As for the compressed teas, I kept the Fuding baicha cake and mini pu-erh tuo cha safely nestled amongst the wrapped items.

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(IMAGE: Items packed safely inside the tin box with gaiwan and teacups wrapped in furoshiki.)

Setting sail

As our day of sailing winded down, the moment for tea came. Quenching the thirst we had acquired from our arduous task (sailing can be quite a work out!) and pairing nicely with the clams we had dug-up and steamed, the tea worked perfectly to act as a closing to a wonderful day. Just as planned, there was more than enough water and certainly enough tea. There was even enough tea to get “creative”, blending the 1985 Menghai with the fresh Yiwu sheng to produce a beautifully-balanced effect.

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(IMAGE: Casual and creative: Brewing a blend of 1985 Menghai and 2015 Yiwu sheng pu-erh. The flavor was balanced and incredibly complex.)

More to come

As I am often going out to enjoy tea, I’m certain that this will be just the beginning of posts focusing on “building tea sets”. Stay tuned for more to come. Until then, I’m curious how you meet the challenge of making tea outside. What sort of sets have you created and how might you bring boiled water? Tea always provides opportunities to hone one’s skills.

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Filed under Education, Tea Tasting, Travel

Making tea on a hot day

Jingdezhen teacup

(IMAGE: Young sheng pu-erh in a fine porcelain Jingdezhen teacup, perfect for a hot summer’s day)

Dear beloved blog readers,

Its hot. Its humid. Its a late summer’s day; a time when you might have a bright, dry morning, only to give way to a thick, moist, thunderstorm evening. With such extremes, one might think that drinking tea, a hot beverage, would only cause an added measure of unease. However, on days like these, tea can offer a cooling respite to the heat, you just need to know how to do it right. In this entry, I’ll offer some ideas that will help you to stay cool while still enjoying tea.

Summer Bowl

(IMAGE: A black Oribe-yaki “Horse Trough-shaped” (馬盥茶碗) summer teabowl is shallow, allowing for the tea to cool off quickly)

“In the summer, suggest coolness”: The 16th century Japanese teamaster Sen no Rikyu once noted “In the summer, suggest coolness. In the winter, warmth.” For making tea, this is crucial, as not only can places like Japan (or China, or Korea…or New York City for that matter) can get incredibly hot in the summer, but also the tea you make and the way you make it can change how heat affects you (and your guests). Rikyu had countless solutions for this, from moving the tea brazier away from the guests (placing the mizusashi, or cool water container, between the brazier and the guest, thus keeping the radiant heat of the brazier at a distance), to even using shallow teabowls to serve tea (as this would help to cool the tea down before drinking). Even having visual cues, such as using a crystal tea caddy (since crystal looks like ice), hanging flowers in baskets (to give a sense of “airiness”), or having a scroll with a “cooling” image or poem written on it was deemed helpful to this end. Practitioners of chanoyu are well aware of these strategies and it is reflected in how they offer tea on hot summer’s days.

Taipinghoukui

(IMAGE: Large and vibrant leaves of a semi-wild Tai Ping Hou Kui (太平猴魁) green tea, perfect for lower-temperature steeping)

Choose the “right” tea: The notion of a “right” tea for any occasion seems to be a hotly contested point among tea people. While I can safely say there is no “right” tea, there are aspects to consider when choosing a tea for a hot day. Teas that favor lower temperatures for brewing like green teas are ideal. Likewise, teas that might benefit by being steeped at a lower temperature could also work. Young sheng pu-erh teas, green oolongs, and even some white or red teas can produce amazing results! It is even said in traditional Chinese medicine that some teas (most teas outside of the more “neutral” pu-erh teas) are ying (or “cooling”) in energy. I find that greener teas tend to carry this quality the most, but this can differ from person to person.

Hohin

(IMAGE: A Japanese porcelain houhin (宝瓶) with kintsugi (金継ぎ) gold lacquer repair)

Selecting teaware: As mentioned before with the suggestion made by Rikyu, teaware can have a big effect on how tea is enjoyed in times of great heat. On hot days, I typically avoid using yixing teaware and, instead, use porcelain or even glass wares. Why? Simple thermodynamics. Whereas yixing wares are renowned for retaining heat (which is ideal for steeping strong brews of oolong, pu-erh, and black teas), porcelain and glass tend to give-off their heat, allowing for the hot water for tea to cool down. While this is ideal for green and white teas, with skill, one can brew higher-oxidized teas this way as well, resulting in smooth-tasting liqueurs, often with long-fading finishes (the huí gān 回甘, “returning dry/sweetness”) attributed to finer quality teas. Likewise, using wider and thinner tea cups, as well as water cooling vessels can help bring the temperature down for a more refreshing brew.

 

So, how do you beat the heat and still drink tea? I’d love to know your thoughts on this.

As you may have noticed, I left out any mention of “iced teas” or “cold-brew teas”. This was intentional as I plan on tackling this topic in its own wonderful future post!

Until then!

 

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Filed under Ceramics, Education, Tea Tasting

Tea on a Rainy Day: Steeping Leaves, Writing Poetry

My weekend begins here:
Out of work and at home,
What care in the world do I have?
Cold weather and warm tea keep me huddled under my kotastu.
A single flower decorates my tea room.
Now is the moment I’ve been waiting for.

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Filed under Oolong, Poetry, Tea Tasting