Specialities, great singularities

Pu-erh is the only truly fermented tea, born in Yunnan, the cradle of the tea plant. It has two faces: “raw”, which ages naturally over years, improving like a fine wine; and “ripe”, whose maturation is accelerated by wet fermentation, a technique developed in 1973. The dark, deep liquor evokes the forest floor after rain, damp earth, wood and cocoa. Round and free of bitterness, it can be steeped several times. The only tea, they say, that gets better with age.

On the highlands of Kenya grows a most unusual tea plant: its leaves are not green but naturally violet. This hue comes from anthocyanins, the same pigments that colour red berries and hibiscus, produced here in response to altitude and strong sunshine. No manipulation, no laboratory variety: the plant alone decides. The liquor bears its mark, purple and velvety, with delicate fruity notes. A botanical curiosity that has become a tasting tea in its own right, and proof that the tea plant still has surprises in store.

Huang Cha is a yellow tea, the rarest of the six families of tea. It is made much like green tea, with one secret step: “yellowing”, a slow, carefully controlled oxidation during which the leaves soften. This patient craft gives it a singular gentleness, somewhere between green tea and white tea. Its golden needles yield a clear, velvety liquor with soft, floral notes and not the slightest astringency. Once reserved for emperors, yellow tea demands such skill that few masters still practise it: a rare and precious yellow tea, to be enjoyed plain.

Smoking was born, so the story goes, of urgency: in the Wuyi Mountains, hurried growers dried their leaves over pine fires. The method remained. Here, the oxidised leaf is laid on racks above a resinous wood that slowly imbues it. The liquor is amber and powerful, laden with wood and smoke, a tea that leaves no one indifferent. It is the companion of smoked dishes, from salmon to mature cheeses, and the easiest mirror pairing to achieve on the whole menu.