Tea of the week: Dong Fang Mei Ren, Formosa Oolong

It's four in the afternoon, and we're on the sixth steep of Dong Fang Mei Ren.  "It just keeps going!" says Sylvia, my imaginary friend who also drinks tea.  We can hardly believe it: everyone knows the virtues of re-steeping, but six cups and still strong?  How many are we going to get?
 

With any luck there will be six more, because this Dong Fang Mei Ren (Oriental Beauty) is a true delight.  I'm new to the world of oolongs, but if they're even close to this delicious on a regular basis, consider me a convert.  Woodsy but subtle to the point of being unremarkable on its first steep, the Dong Fang Mei Ren gets stronger, richer, and more complex as its leaves are reused.  By the third steep it begins to take on the sweet, honey-like fullness it's known for, and from there on it's a wild, always changing ride.  What tones will it take on next?  Will there be a spicy note?  A return to woodsiness?  Mint?  The possibilities seem endless.

Dong Fang Mei Ren, also called White Tip Oolong, comes out of northern Taiwan (Taiwanese oolong is called formosa oolong), and is distinguished from other oolongs by the nature of its organic production.  Dong Fang Mei Ren farmers don't use pesticides, and instead allow the parasitic tea leaf hopper to nibble on their tea leaves.  This induces the leaves to release a chemical which attracts predators of the leaf hopper and tea-drinkers alike.  The leaf hopper is driven away before it can completely consume the plant, and the leaves are given a uniquely sweet flavor.  FOOD JUSTICE at work!  As a result, Dong Fang Mei Ren leaves are prized throughout the world: famous fans include Queen Elizabeth II, who labeled the tea an Oriental Beauty and gave it its name.

For something produced by bugs chewing on it, it sure is good.  My sixth cup has an incredibly rich base, its sweetness dominating, but not completely overpowering, the wildness of the woody initial taste.  The bite of the fourth and fifth cup is gone, but it's been replaced by a freshness in the finish, an ocean-air feel in the back of the throat.  There's some astringency, but remarkably little for how many steeps its been through.  By the end of the cup the tea has cooled off, the liquor has condensed, and the room-temperature dregs seem ready to burst with tightly-packed flavor.  Something about the cool temperature really drives it home.  Call me crazy, but I think this one might be even better iced.

The sixth cup is so nice that I think I'm ready for my seventh.  I ask Sylvia what she thinks.  "Another cup?  It's been twenty minutes since your last one."  I nod, and she smiles.  "Count me in!"

This could go on all night.

As always, I got my Oriental Beauty from TeaSource.