A Taste
   of the
    Ethereal
Tamar Laddy  


I l l u s t r a t i o n : A d a m + P o w e l l



The Imperial Tea Court, located at 1411 Powell Street in San Francisco, is open daily from 11 a.m. to 6:30 p.m.
  "Hold the tea in the front of your mouth for a few seconds, then push your tongue through the liquid and swallow. You should feel the smoothness and taste the sweetness, the signs of a good Dragon Well."

It's 7 p.m. on a Sunday evening, and I'm learning the intricacies of tea tasting from Roy Fong, owner of San Francisco's Imperial Tea Court. The Powell Street shop should have closed for business a half-hour ago, but the local tea guru seems to have lost track of time.

I've been waiting for weeks to talk to Fong, who just returned from a trip to China to oversee the spring Dragon Well harvest. The green tea we are drinking today was picked two weeks ago in Hangzhou, a town in the Anxi province several hours from Shanghai by train.

"Dragon Well is a light, delicate, beautiful tea - a lot like the eastern coast where it's grown," Fong says as he pours another stream of water over the leaves in the gaiwan, a covered porcelain cup used to steep single servings of tea. "That's where all the poets, gentlemen, scholars, and aristocrats are from. The place is beautiful, like the tea. Even the culinary style is sweeter." 































































  










My friend Barbara, sitting next to me at the mahogany table, lets out

an audible sigh of contentment after taking a sip of the tea. She and

Fong exchange a knowing glance. "They have a saying in Chinese that you

have Heaven up above, and then you have Heaven below on Earth in

Hangzhou," Fong smiles. "This is as close to Heaven as possible." Heaven

on Earth comes at a price though ... in this case US$280 for a pound of

Imperial Dragon Well leaves. But at the Imperial Tea Court, you can get

a taste of the ethereal at $5 a cup.




For nearly four years, Fong and his wife Grace have been brewing and

selling rare Chinese teas at their rosewood-paneled shop. The times I've

been to the Imperial Tea Court, the eight tables have been buzzing with

Chinese students pouring over texts, tatooed and pierced hipsters, and

even local celebrity Rob Schneider. But tonight, we are the last

customers left, and the chirping coming from the bird cages in the back

of the shop threatens to drown out Fong's voice.








































 
   




When it comes to Chinese teas, Fong is a recognized authority. One

of the founding members of the American Tea Master's Association, he

supplies teas to a dozen upscale Bay Area restaurants including the Slanted

Door and Aqua, and has the trendy Republic of Tea knocking on his door for

advice.  In person, Fong is an unimposing man, a traditionally trained Taoist priest with a smile that lights up his face and hands that wave

enthusiastically in the air.























































  

































When asked what his favorite tea is, the Hong-Kong native replies,

"I'm a southern guy. I drink Tiquanyin. It's unpretentious and the

flavors are right out in front. There's no beating around the bush." As

he speaks, he prepares his own blend of the roasted Oolong,

"Monkey Picked" Tiquanyin. But first he dampens the leaves in a bowl and

passes them around for us to smell. As with wine tasting, the aroma of

the tea is just as important as the taste and mouth feel.  Instead of

brewing the tea in individual cups, he places the leaves into a tiny

clay pot, serving it in the gongfu style. 




Fong uses a different pot of water to brew the Tiquanyin,

explaining that it needs to steep in hotter water and for a few minutes

longer than Dragon Well. When we taste the finished product - this time

slurping the tea through our teeth as instructed - it is smoky, thick

and rich, lingering on the edge of bitterness. This is the espresso of

teas, and after a few more thimble-sized cups, I start to feel lightheaded.


















 





































It's easy to get Fong talking about any of the 30 teas on Imperial Tea

Court's menu, all of which you can taste from $3 to $5. When he comes to

your table, he'll often go into organic growing methods, harvesting

techniques, and even the digestive benefits of pu-erh teas. If

you're lucky, he might even tell you the stories behind the 100 or so

clay tea pots that line the wall behind the cash register. Don't be

mistaken, Fong is just as happy to leave you alone with your tea and

your thoughts. But why climb to the mountain top without taking time to

talk to the guru?


































































Tamar Laddy is an author.  She also maintains the University of California-Berkeley's Department of Engineering web site.






































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