Meeting Mr Yang Dairong

We took a trip to Chaozhou again recently to film some interviews for an upcoming documentary about Chaozhou gongfucha. One of the persons we were lucky enough to meet was Yang Dairong, a veteran dancong expert and former official in the forestry service. Drawn from years of fieldwork, Mr Yang wrote a pioneering book titled ‘Chaozhou Phoenix Tea Tree Resources Chronicle.’ Only 500 copies were ever printed, and now a single copy costs 5000 RMB (about $716 USD). The book contains Mr Yang's extensive studies of tree specimens all over Wudong Shan and the Phoenix Mountains. He documented and photographed all the famous mother trees, and encouraged their protection. We were not able to film our talk with him, since he doesn’t like cameras much. However, we are able to write about our meeting with him.

The first surprising thing to know about Mr Yang is he doesn’t really like brewing tea. He usually wants others to brew tea for him, even if its his own tea. Nevertheless, he did brew for us, though in a very fast and chaotic manner. Some other guests joked that this was an ‘omakase’ way to drink tea: you simply have to drink whatever he brews, and drink it fast. He brewed 6 teas over the course of one hour, sometimes all at the same time. He brewed them very strong, with 10g of leaf plucked out of small tins which he carries around in a plastic bag. These teas were:

- Aged Hongyin

- ‘Gushu’ Phoenix Shui Xian

- Unnamed Seed-propagated ‘Dashu’ Dancong

- Triple Roasted Wudong Yashi Xiang

- Gong Xiang Dancong

- 1990s Qimen Hongcha

I won’t write too much about the teas here. The Gong Xiang and unnamed seed grown dashu were exceptional. The aged hongyin was very umami, almost like seaweed soup. He only brewed 2g of the hongyin to minimise its inherent bitterness. The overall sensation of drinking it was very much like sheng puerh. The Yashi Xiang was unique, totally different from any other I have tried before. The gushu phoenix shui xian was extraordinarily bitter, yet still somehow pleasant to drink, with a lot of energy and lingering aromas. The sensation of drinking the 1990s qimen was like a crossover between hongcha and liu bao. Mr Yang insisted that the technque for making qimen was better back in the 90s, though he refused to elaborate further.

When asked about his process for writing the book, Mr Yang explained that over years of work in the forestry service he studied 45 specimens of very old trees on Wudong Shan. This required countless field trips, at a time when the roads up to Wudong Shan were not as developed. He said that the protection of the older bushes is better nowadays. This is, he explained, largely the result of market forces. The tea produced from these very old specimens is extremely valuable, often reserved for high ranking officials and wealthy businesspersons. The sheer value of these trees provides more than enough incentive for the owners to take good care of them.

Mr Yang uses a curious PowerPoint mode of expression when speaking. He usually lists a few numbered points without much explanation. One gets the impression that he’s done these interviews countless times before, and so he resorts to a kind of shorthand to get his points across. For example, he explained the purpose of charoal roasting dancong as follows:

1. The first function of roasting is to stop further fermentation or oxidation

2. The second function of roasting is to settle the shape and colour of the leaves

3. The thid function is to fix the fragrance

4. The fourth function is to adjust the colour and clarity of the tea soup

5. The fifth function is to remove impurities and/or bad smells

6. The sixth function is to prevent mould

7. The seventh function is to reduce moisture to a shelf stable level

8. The eighth function is to cover up flaws in the tea processing

The last point is a particularly honest one, and he insisted that there is no such thing as a perfectly processed dancong, and that charcoal roasting is always necessary to cover up any flaws. He also opined that handmade processes are best for the better material. Most of his tea is from Wudong, from producers who still use hands (and feet) for the shaking and rolling steps.

Another PowerPoint-esque presentation he gave was his ‘Five Steps of Drinking Tea’:

1. Drinking. Drinking tea daily for simple enjoyment.

2. Tasting. Tasting tea on a more serious level

3. Competing. Comparing teas against other teas.

4. Playing. By this he meant going back to a more casual attitude about tea and not taking it so seriously anymore.

5. Sourcing. He believes sourcing tea is like sifting ‘gold from a river bed’ and that it heavily depends on relationships, with both farmers and other enthusiasts.

It’s interesting that Mr Yang believes in going back to a casual attitude about tea after seriously learning it. He certainly embodies that type of attitude by carrying around the most expensive dancong you can imagine in a plastic bag and brewing haphazardly with a cigarette in the other hand. It’s also interesting that he believes taking a casual attitude about tea is a necessary step before sourcing it. There’s something very Chaozhou about this way of thinking. Despite his vast knowledge and experience, he still brews and thinks about tea in a casual way like from many other locals in the hometown of gongfucha. When asked if he had changed any of his opinions since writing his monograph, he adamantly said no. At the end of our meeting he said he was encouraged by Chaozhou gongufcha being practiced overseas and that 'drinking tea is not about nationality.'

Back to blog