Shou puer in the mornings for a month
13 October 2024 · 2 min read
For October I replaced the morning coffee with shou puer, the ripe, dark, fermented kind, brewed western style in a 300 ml glass pot because I wanted a mug, not a session. The question was the leaf ratio. In the gaiwan I use about 7 g per 120 ml and pour off quickly. In a mug-sized pot, with longer steeps, that ratio would be a swamp.
Week one, 5 g per 300 ml, water just off the boil, 3 minutes: dark, smooth, drinkable, but thin for what this tea can do, and the second steep at 4 minutes was already weak. Week two, 8 g, 2 minutes then 3 then 5: this was the ratio. Dark red-brown, thick, tasting of dates and damp earth and a faint sweetness like dried figs, and it gave three good mugs with a fourth that was acceptable. Week three I tried 10 g and the first mug was too much, bitter at the edges and heavy on the stomach before breakfast, so I went back to 8 g for the rest of the month.
The rinse turned out to matter more than I had thought. Ripe puer carries a pile-fermented smell, a bit of a damp cellar, that a quick rinse removes. On the morning I skipped it, because I was late, that smell was in the first mug and stayed there, and the tea tasted muddy. A 10 second rinse with boiling water, poured away, and the next morning’s tea was clean again. I now rinse twice if the leaf has been sitting in the open tin for more than a week.
Caffeine, for what it is worth: I noticed no afternoon crash and no morning headache, but also none of the sharp alertness coffee gives. A gentler start, and I slept slightly better in the second half of the month, though October also brought shorter days and I am not going to credit the tea with that.
Verdict: the pot stays on the shelf for mornings, 8 g, water straight off the boil, rinse once, 2 then 3 then 5 minutes. The gaiwan is for the evenings, when I have time to pay attention. Coffee is back on Saturdays, by negotiation with myself.