Although I do not yet know what this anniversary has in store for the guests who are still to come, I have to say that if I had only managed to bring together the voices of three guests, Ryan, Sam, and, on this occasion, Vernon, it would have been enough for me.
Because through these conversations, without having sought it out or planned it in advance, this anniversary has managed to distill a theme that is as simple as it is complex: culture.
With Ryan and Sam, we explored matcha, a tea that has received a considerable amount of attention, both among those who were already part of the tea world and among those who found in it their first gateway into tea. With Vernon, however, the conversation took us somewhere else.
Because the world of tea, precisely because it is a mosaic, is made up of many other teas, each with its own challenges, stories, and significance.
And perhaps that is where one of its greatest riches lies: we are not talking about a static culture, but a living one, one that changes, adapts, transforms, and continues to be shaped by the people who cultivate it, study it, and share it.
Today, we have the pleasure of getting to know Vernon Harris.
Vernon has traveled to 84 countries, lived in nine, and speaks six languages, a journey that is also reflected in the way he speaks about tea.
Five years ago, he entered the specialty tea trade, joining one of China's largest tea companies as a supplier to the hospitality sector. As an associated manufacturer, the company supplies premium loose-leaf teas to more than 3,000 partners across China, growing and sourcing all six types of tea. This experience gave Vernon a privileged vantage point from which to observe every link in the supply chain, from the hillside where the tea is grown to the cup.
Last year, he brought that experience to the United Kingdom and founded Sinovate with a simple goal: to bring carefully crafted, authentic Chinese teas to British consumers seeking to discover the real product.
Lapsang Souchong appropriately occupies a central place in his portfolio, as it is also one of the most difficult teas to introduce into the country due to the close scrutiny it receives from UK and European Union customs authorities. Vernon’s approach has been to build direct relationships with trusted producers, so that quality and regulatory compliance can move forward hand in hand rather than becoming obstacles to one another.
Beyond the business sphere, Vernon serves as Director of Education on the board of the European Specialty Tea Association (ESTA), where he is currently working on the development of a new generation of educational programs aimed at deepening the way Europeans understand and appreciate specialty tea.
“The Seasoning”
I felt a certain sadness when I discovered that one of the first search results that appears (at least for me) when you type “Lapsang Souchong” is an article that speaks of the beauty of this tea primarily in terms of its ability to add flavor to cooking and baking.
And yes, Lapsang Souchong can certainly bring flavor to the life of those who drink it.
But, as with so many things in life, I believe that part of its beauty also lies in understanding it: knowing where it comes from, how it is made, why it tastes the way it does, and what story lies behind what ultimately finds its way into our cup.
That is why the first thing I asked Vernon was:
What is Lapsang Souchong, and what makes it special?
Since many people have heard of Lapsang Souchong, but few know its history, what exactly is it, and what makes it so special? Vernon explained it this way:
“Lapsang Souchong comes from Tongmu, a small area nestled in the Wuyi Mountains of Fujian Province, widely recognized as the birthplace of black tea, with a history dating back to the early 17th century, toward the end of the Ming dynasty.
The story of its origins is part accident and part necessity.
During a period of military unrest, local tea producers found themselves with a batch of freshly harvested leaves and not enough time to dry them properly before they spoiled. Their solution was to speed up the process using the heat from burning pinewood.
The result was something completely different from any tea they had tasted before: smoky, deep, and strangely captivating.
When it reached Britain, it found admirers almost immediately. Its smoky character was not difficult to embrace in a country already accustomed to smoked herring, bacon, and smoked cheeses, and its popularity only grew when word spread that the royal family had also developed a taste for it.
It is often described as a campfire in a cup: intense pine smoke accompanied by notes of malt, dried longan, dark honey, and a gentle warmth reminiscent of whisky.
Whether it becomes one of those teas that remains a lifelong favorite or simply an acquired taste, it is rarely a tea anyone forgets.”
In short, we met someone whose journey has allowed him to experience and understand every link in the supply chain, and we came closer to a tea that can feel like a campfire in a cup, yet is sometimes reduced to little more than a seasoning.
This is precisely why it becomes imperative to pause and consider what we truly mean by authenticity when we talk about Lapsang Souchong; that is,
What makes a Lapsang authentic?
Is it determined by its origin, traditional production methods, flavor profile, or something else?
This conversation continues in the volume A campfire in a cup of Mijología Aplicada.
Access the full volume to continue exploring the reflections, experiences, and knowledge shared by Vernon Harris, and discover a deeper conversation about Lapsang Souchong, its history, its production, and what lies behind a cup.
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