Although we often wish to establish rigid parameters for something as free and ever-evolving as tea, these are nothing more than attempts to put into words a world so vast that it can invite you to drink Duck Shit, enjoy an Iron Goddess of Mercy, or simply choose a White Rooster Crest.
Although they may not seem like it, all of these are names of tea cultivars.
However, diving into the world of tea cultivars and varieties is not an easy task. In practice, there is always much more beneath the surface, because tea is a living culture that evolves alongside the societies that produce and enjoy it.
As a result, it is common to encounter information that is difficult to verify or even interpret. In many cases, this knowledge exists only in the language in which it originated. When translated, versions are often too literal or lose part of the poetry, nuances, and cultural context behind each name.
While I would love to share in detail about the different cultivars, how they develop over time, and the various chemical processes, challenges, and opportunities surrounding them, I will follow the old saying: “A cobbler should stick to his own shoes.”
So instead, I will give you a brief glimpse into some of the things you may encounter in practice, starting with the famous Duck Shit.
Rather than diving into technical details about the etymology and other aspects of Ya Shi Xiang (“Duck Shit”), I will share two of the existing stories that attempt to “justify” its peculiar name.
One version suggests that the area where this cultivar grew had soil whose appearance resembled, guess what… yes, duck shit, and that this was the reason behind the name.
The other version tells the story of a producer who discovered the cultivar's potential but did not want neighboring farmers to take it from him. Therefore, he gave it an unattractive nickname. That way, anyone who heard about it would assume the plant was of little value.
But if Duck Shit teaches us that an unappealing name can hide a true gem, Iron Goddess of Mercy shows us that even the most solemn names can conceal a much more complex question:
The case of Tie Guan Yin, known as Iron Goddess of Mercy, is one of the most fascinating examples. Depending on who you ask, the answer may vary.
Some argue that an authentic Tie Guan Yin must come from the Anxi region; others believe it must be made from the cultivar that carries the same name. Some argue that what truly defines Tie Guan Yin is its production process and resulting sensory profile.
There is even a stricter interpretation: that a true Tie Guan Yin meets all three conditions, coming from Anxi, using the Tie Guan Yin cultivar, and being processed through a specific method that creates the distinctive cup profile that has made it one of China's most recognized teas.
Here we encounter an uncomfortable reality: Do you trust your tea supplier? Is the tea they offer you truly authentic? Do they have the knowledge needed to support what they are selling?
However, in the end, the question returns to the person drinking it: Do you have the cultural knowledge necessary to truly enjoy tea?
I do not have a definitive answer to these questions. What I can share is a piece of advice I once heard that perfectly summarizes this situation: “Tea arrived before definitions did.”
Now, we also cannot ignore the aspect related to names.
Mariella Erkens, author of TEA: Wine’s Sober Sibling, explains it very clearly:
Many teas are named after their cultivar (e.g., Tieguanyin, Jin Xuan #12 and Bai Hao Yin Zhen) or the tea-producing region they are from (e.g., Ali Shan, Darjeeling and Assam), or after the way they were produced (e.g., Matcha, powdered tea, and Hojicha, roastedtea).
In China, some names are poetic and do not necessarily correspond to a particular region or cultivar, while others do, such as Long Jing. Its name means "Dragon Well," and a tea can only be called Long Jing when made with the specific cultivar, grown in a restricted area and precisely processed, resulting in a specific flat sword-like shape of the leaf. However, names may also have other sources.
Taiwanese Baozhong translates to "wrapped variety" or "the wrapped kind," because in the past, Baozhong was wrapped and packaged in paper.
In short, tea names can be quite confusing. (Erkens, 2022, p. 12)
But tea names are not the only thing we need to pay attention to; there are also tea category names. We wouldn’t want you confusing a dark tea with a Pu-erh… sacrilege!
But don’t worry, we’ll explore that in the next article.
Satoricha ~
References
Erkens, M. (2022). Tea: Wine's Sober Sibling. Lannoo Publishers.