First page of the smoked tea archive.

“Lapdance Souchong” – The Changing Face of Lapsang Souchong, Part 3

Posted by lazyliteratus on February 17, 2014 with 10 Commentsas , , , , , , , , ,

This is the final installment of The Changing Faces of Lapsang Souchong trilogy. For Part 1, go HERE. For Part 2, go Here.

Warning: This installment is not going to be anywhere near as sophisticated or educational as the last two…which is why it’s on the Beasts of Brewdom page.

The Changing Face of Lapsang Souchong, Part 3: “Lapdance Souchong”

Amidst the wet and blizzard-like conditions nationwide, let’s flashback to last summer. Specifically, July. I just got done with one of the best experiences EVAR! picking tea for the very first time in Burlington, WA. The next day, I still had time to kill before I made the mad-trek back to Portland proper. Instead of exploring the insanity that is Seattle, I chose to hang out in one of its burbs – Burien.

I warned Cinnabar Gongfu of my intent to loiter at the Phoenix Teashop for the better part of the day, and she put up with me like a trooper – metaphoric helmet donned. Before I left, Cinnabar mentioned in passing that Phoenix carried both smoked and unsmoked Lapsang Souchong offerings from Fujian province, China. I asked for a price, deemed it worthy, and picked up an ounce of each. Somewhere in the transaction, I had uttered the phrase, “Lapdance Souchong”. And a thought emerged…I love it when that happens.

Why not do a side-by-side comparison of the two Lapsang styles and compare it to a Saturday stint at a strip joint? Jeenyus!

strip club

So, while most single men with money were at an actual strip joint on a Saturday night, I was home comparing teas to being at a strip joint. On a Saturday night. Hey, I said it was a thought, not a good thought.

The leaves for the Unsmoked Lapsang Souchong were medium-sized to whole, rolled and reed-like in appearance with some gold-tipped and red-tipped pieces in the fray. The aroma was quite dry, reminding me of a forest on a hot summer day. Astringent-seeming and slightly harsh, yet at the same time, welcoming. This dancer worked the weekend day shifts. She wore a dazzling red-and-gold one-piece that hugged her figure wholesomely, if not sexily. A looker but not a go-getter. Shy-seeming. Cute face, though.

Unsmoked vs. Smoked

The Smoked…well…

The leaves were similar in appearance – if more curled and crooked. They were also more soot black than the unsmoked, which was to be expected. The aroma was straight campfire and steak with a back-whiff of peat. This gal came out in a two-piece pleather thong bikini-something-er-other with devil horns adorned – tail lashing and trident at the ready.

hellfire

Saturday night shift, all the way.

I brewed both at three minutes a pop (enough for one song in the champagne room) in 6oz. steeper cups. Boiling hot water and a teaspoon each. All’s fair in lust and Lapsang.

The Unsmoked liquor came out darker by a head, belying a shade darker copper than the Smoked. She also gave off an aroma of wood and bitterness – as if she had just gotten done with a twelve-hour stint, and her clear heels were killing her. The taste was straight malt with a hint of astringency on the finish. Like a Keemun only less refined. She wasn’t relegated to day shift; she was a newbie, still learning the ropes. But talented at that. And the things she did with her tongue – yikes!

The Smoked was a veteran of the stage. Sure, she didn’t have as bold outward appearance as the Unsmoked ingénue, but she glided across the palatial runway with all the swagger of a seasoned seductress. Her liquor color was dazzling yet left an air of mystery intact behind the copper sheen. The aroma wafting from her vessel was smoky but not pungently so. Hickory and backwoods campfire, yes, but it was downplayed once water hit her form. On taste, she shined like a phoenix-flamed goddess reaching her zenith. Raw talent can go a long way, but in the end, a little smoldering discipline edges ahead.

Brewdom

Smoked Lapsang for the WIN.

That isn’t to say I wouldn’t visit the Unsmoked often. There’s something about her that says, “Stay with me.” A come-hither stare and a bright-eyed innocence behind the malt and wood. I would visit her in the afternoons, but it’s the Smoked I’d wake up to in the mornings.

***

A quick aside: After I was done brewing both Lapsangs back-to-back, I forgot to photograph the finished steeps. I didn’t realize this until after I drank them. I had to re-brew them just for the photo finish. But then I couldn’t let those infusions go to waste…so I drank them. Four cups of tea. For one photo.

Yeah, I was up for a while.

insomnia