Click here to listen:
Some people want to explore the world of connoisseur tea, but are not
comfortable with the idea of brewing teas that do not come in tea
bags. Let's demystify the options here and save the planet, friends
(for more, see my entry on "Tea's Carbon Footprint"). 
2. Tea pot (with
its proprietary strainer or with a filter): The next most familiar
method is the trusty tea pot. You will find many choices, but
optimally, you would use a glass, porcelain or ceramic teapot to brew
white and green teas and porcelain, ceramic or yixing for oolongs,
blacks and puerhs. Many tea pots have a built-in filter or some type of
internal system at the interior base of the spout that will prevent tea
leaves from escaping the tea pot. If you have a tea pot that has no
such filtering device, simply use a filter or strainer over your cup or
serving vessel. You can find some very nice strainers made of bamboo
and other non-metal materials (which is preferred).
3. Gaiwan:
Ahhhh, the gaiwan.... For those who are new to tea, the gaiwan can be
either
enchanting or perplexing. Once you learn how to use a gaiwan, you
might never want to use a filtered tea cup or tea pot again. The
gaiwan comes from China, and comprises a saucer, a cup, and a lid. In
fact, it means "covered bowl" in Chinese. Regardless, the lid of the
gaiwan is used to cover the tea as it steeps, smell the tea, and also
prevent the leaves from escaping the cup when the infusion is sipped or
poured into a serving vessel. To use a gaiwan is simple: put tea in
the gaiwan. Rinse the tea for 1 second with hot water, and pour off.
Pour hot water on the leaves and cover with the gaiwan lid. You can
also use the lid as a kind of paddle to nudge the tea leaves awake
while the tea is brewing. 
4. Japanese tea bowl & whisk (for
matcha): Tea has been prepared from ground green tea for more than a
thousand years. In China, it was whisked in a bowl. In Japan, it
became the primary object of contemplation and practice in the famed
Japanese tea ceremony, but you can lose the kimono if you wish, and
simply whisk up some tea to elevate your mood. The bright green froth
of a matcha brings great solace and energy to those who love this kind
of tea. To use this method: put a few small scoops (2-3 teasppons) of
matcha powder in a ceramic tea bowl. Pour hot water into the powder
and whisk briskly (while you say "whisk briskly" briskly three times
:>D ) with a bamboo whisk. Stay tuned for more information on
different kinds of matcha and different Japanese tea ceremonies (hint;
there is a sencha ceremony as well). 
Click here to listen to the 1- minute interview with David Campbell of Tillerman Tea on these rare Taiwanese wild teas:
Teas and tea brewing styles will be as different and diverse as the participants. If you miss this convention, you will likely have to wait another ten years for it to return to the United States.
Click here to listen:
Download | Duration: 00:02:17
Samovar Tea Salon Series invites a small audience to an intimate, open-dialogue forum meant to inspire and energize the community to respond mindfully and optimistically to a rapidly changing social and economic era. Tea Salons will be held bi-weekly on Tuesday evenings from 7-8:30 p.m. at Samovar's new "Zen Valley" location (297 Page @ Laguna).
Tickets can be purchased on location only.
Samovar Tea Salon Series invites a small audience to an intimate, open-dialogue forum meant to inspire and energize the community to respond mindfully and optimistically to a rapidly changing social and economic era. Tea Salons will be held bi-weekly on Tuesday evenings from 7-8:30 p.m. at Samovar's new "Zen Valley" location (297 Page @ Laguna).
Tickets can be purchased on location only.
Illustration ©2009 Jennifer Sauer
I JUST FINISHED READING the book The Republic of Tea: Letters to a Young Zentrepreneur, by the company's original founders, Will Rosenzweig and Mel & Patricia Ziegler. In a series of whimsical faxes exchanged during the early 1990s between Mel (as mentor) and Will (as mentee), Mel describes not only how to build a company from the ground up, but how to craft a life: "sip by sip, not gulp by gulp." As the book progresses, Mel invites both his colleague, Will, and his readers to consider the benefits of Tea Mind-- the state of mind one enters at around cup number five, according to Tang Dynasty poet, Lu Tong who wrote, "At the fifth cup, I am purified," in his poem, Tea Drinking.
"I want what I have," Mel petitions the reader, through his advice to Will. This statement is at the nucleus of Tea Mind, and the raison d'etre of creating a tea business, particularly in a severe economic downturn. Wanting what you have provides relief, particularly when you need a distraction from thinking about what you may recently have lost or might lose in the unknown future. Tea is a wonderful tonic for any depression, be it economic or physiological. Tea Mind comes naturally from drinking tea and taking time out of one's day to be quiet, observant and resident in his or her own stillness. It comes of itself, as easily as the steam. Tea Mind is enduring and even more important now than it was during that puny recession of the early 1990's when The Republic of Tea book was written (and the company founded).
Tea Mind is wanting what you have rather than angling to get what you want. This small shift in words nudges the reader towards a huge yet simple segue in thinking and values. You find that wanting what you have is much more gratifying and takes much less energy than wanting things to be different. "I want, I want, I want," says the incumbent monkey mind. Yet when you sit down and sip a rare, hand-crafted oolong made from the ancient trees of China, you suddenly look around, and although life and its present challenges are still the same, you somehow settle into yourself, and the need for things to change somehow evaporates like streaks of steam rising then disappearing from your cup. Suddenly, you are still and empty, and simply enjoying the gorgeousness of the steam itself, its aroma mingling with the comfort of your favorite books sitting on the shelf, and the lovely color of your living room walls.
Life has changed, and you didn't do a thing, but drink some tea and start thinking differently. "Wow," says Tea Mind. "Steam, color, smell." Tea Mind is that simple: "I want what I have."
~Let me ride on this sweet breeze and waft away thither~
David Hoffman Making Tea ©2009 Jennifer Leigh Sauer
I HAD THE HONOR and pleasure of visiting famed tea master David Lee Hoffman and his wife, Bee, for tea not long ago. An unsuspecting visitor might be tipped off by directions to David's home and private tea house that (s)he is in for a magical adventure:
"Come up the driveway, past the boat on the lake at right and chicken coop on left. Pass the bell tower, bear to your right, walking up the brick path that leads to the tea house, and enter through the large steel doors on left. Pass through the stone tunnel below the tea house, up the brick steps, past the worm palace and moat on the left....."
I have suddenly become Dorothy searching for the (tea) wizard in a Chinese/Nepalese version of Oz. I would not be entirely surprised to see the Tin Man or the Scarecrow waving to me at any turn of the brick path. Whimsical stone sculptures stand erect by half-built "castles" and towers. The brick path brings the visitor over bridges and streams and past ponds and chicken coops. I wonder when the Lollypop Kids will appear to greet me. "We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto," I think to myself bemusedly.
Finally making it to the open air deck of the Chinese-style tea house which faces a panoramic cathedral of old-growth redwood trees, I hear the music of male voices discussing the completion of a Japanese tile roof. "Helloooo???" I chime. "I'm just coming down from the roof," I hear in response, as David magically flies down from above to welcome me to his kingdom. Neither hidden behind a curtain nor donning a cape, David appears before me. He is as lovely, rustic, and authentic a character as his magnificent Chinese tea house with its gnarled-wood antique Chinese chairs and festive Nepalese prayer flags. We shake hands, and I return the quiet grin spreading beneath Hoffman's kind and curious gaze.
David's private tea house, to which guests are welcome by invitation only, is the ultimate place to savor the delights of tea and take in the lavish gifts of the magical redwood forest (not to mention David's inspiring company). But a late autumn chill drives us into David's home, as the tea house, for now, is unheated and open to the elements. I have brought with me a photographic print as a gift for David and Bee, yet something in me wonders if I should have brought tea. It seemed imprudent at best, and cheeky at worst, to bring tea to someone whose legendary status in the U.S. tea world is dwarfed only by his reputation among Asian tea groupies, who follow him around China to find out which teas he will buy each season.
We enter David's warm and cozy home, which, like the tea house, faces out to the great Northern California redwoods. "Did you bring your favorite tea," he asks? Hawks circle the air. I shake my head. "Not this time," I say, feeling a bit sheepish. I look around the wood-and-glass home to see the lovely gifts of nature David and Bee have collected, as well as some Asian art and writings. One piece of writing tacked to a beam in the house especially moves me:
"These three ways
lead to the heavens:
asserting the truth,
not yielding to anger,
and giving......."
----Dhammapada, verse 224
David is indeed generous, bringing out three different pu-erh teas to taste, one in a bamboo casing, one a cake, and one a loose tea. He steeps the teas in ceramic gaiwans, lining them up, each behind a tasting cup, so we can taste the brews, one after the other. He pours the rinse water into a three-legged earthen frog, which he loves because of its stability, and it's mirroring of the Chinese belief in the strength of three-pillared bases.
"Which tea do you think is the oldest?" he asks me later. "How do you judge the age of a tea," I ask? He says there are many factors, each of which can be faked. Hmmmmm....All of the teas are smooth, and each has a very different and distinctive aroma and flavor. One is brisk, vegetal, and almost astringent, one is mossy and changes on the tongue, and one is very earthy, the "dirt" taste many associate with pu-erhs.
One tea has a particular depth and, as I decide not to risk flaunting my ignorance, I wait for him to tell me that it is this complex tea which is the oldest. "Probably around 1992," he says. "This tea is much darker than the other two," he offers, pointing to a different tea, "so some might guess this to be the oldest tea. But the darkness of the tea doesn't mean its older. It's this other tea here which is the oldest", and he points to the tea in the middle, the mossy one with the personality that keeps growing and shifting with such subtlety.
The afternoon moves forward, the tall trees tossing themselves into a rose sunset. It is time to go, to let David relax after a long day of working on the roof, which has been in the making for years and years, David says. We promise to meet again. "Next time, I will bring tea," I add.
"Can you find your way out," David asks? I assure him I can, although within moments of departing, I find myself in a maze of tunnels, trees, streams, and collected things that have not yet found permanent homes. I click my heels three times.......
