Why you should try brewing your tea with a gaiwan
Can the gaiwan be the gateway to a deeper enjoyment and understanding of tea?
It's a sunny afternoon in late March, maybe early April in Portland, Oregon. It’s 2016. I’m sitting indoors at a table facing two French patio doors half open onto a pond. There’s a weeping willow tree to the left, its branches caressing the water. To the right, a small pavilion with a steep sloping roof, its corners boldly curved upwards. In the background a sleek skyscraper façade, glimmering. There are people around me but the room is quiet. I am presented with a tray and what is referred to as “the formal tea service” on the menu. There are various vessels on the tray, a pitcher, small tea cups without a handle and a lidded bowl sitting on a little saucer. A flaky lotus mooncake, bearing a bright red stamp, is there too. The tea is an osmanthus oolong. I can see the tiny little flowers in there. I had no idea that that unassumingly ordinary, little moment at the Lan Su Chinese garden teahouse would shape the following years in ways I could not possibly have dreamt about. I was already a tea lover at that time, I had been drinking tea my whole life but I had not come across a gaiwan before. A gaiwan is a tea brewing vessel from China, a lidded cup which requires some dexterity to handle at first. It is an important element within the Chinese way of brewing tea, gongfu cha. I was immediately captivated. I was sitting there like a child opening a birthday present, full of anticipation. There is something exciting and calming at the same time in this tea brewing style.
Now imagine how special this must have been for me (and it still is after all those years). I started my tea journey from the humble, ubiquitous Earl Grey/English breakfast/green tea grocery store tea bag. I had definitely had forays into loose-leaf tea but mainly artificially flavored. I was the person who had bought a 100-gram pouch of matcha green tea at the Asian grocery store thinking it was quite pricey and had emptied its contents into a mason jar because it looked pretty in my pantry. I’m cringing so badly right now just thinking about it. Matcha belongs in the fridge, tightly sealed and in a dark container. I hope you never get to see the color of spoiled matcha or smell its stench. Yuck.
Anyways, using a gaiwan has made a difference, a huge difference in the way I experience tea.
I need to pay close attention when handling a gaiwan, otherwise I will burn my fingers or drop one of the moving parts (lid, saucer, pitcher, tea cup) and break it. My first gaiwan got chipped almost immediately (because I’m clumsy like that). It’s a great way to learn the art of being present in the moment. Moreover, I can get up close and personal with my tea leaves, smell the volatile compounds that stick to the lid and take a good look at the leaves before, during and after steeping.
Are you curious about how to use a gaiwan? Stick around because I have all the details for you and even a short video.
I guess you could say that for me using a gaiwan was the gateway to high quality tea, a discerning tea nose and palate, learning about tea, nerding out about tea, experimenting with tea and making deep human connections over tea.
Can the gaiwan be the gateway to a deeper enjoyment and understanding of tea? Can it be the gateway to tea for someone who is new to it or can it help existing tea drinkers upgrade their experience of tea? I think so.
The first hurdle though is that tea has a big PR problem in our culture. It is mostly ignored or regarded as an afterthought at best because of its bad reputation. Most people think of grocery store tea bags when they think of tea, low quality, bitter taste, nothing special. Nobody craves that tea. Why? Because they haven’t had good tea experiences. So how do we create a demand for high quality tea and crave-worthy tea experiences? In order for the tea industry to first and foremost survive and secondly thrive, we need to educate people about alternatives to the tea bag. The appeal of the gaiwan lies in its novelty factor in the Western world. It looks very different from a teapot, but it is easy enough to use and the rewards for using it are pretty high. You get to brew an insanely good cup of tea (or rather multiple good cups of tea) and the initial investment is relatively low. You get to control the tea steeping variables closely and get to experience tea with all your senses, up close and personal. In comparison, for people to get into craft coffee, the initial investment can be pretty high (have you seen how expensive any kind of coffee gear can be?) and yet craft coffee is super popular.
How it works
Steeping tea in a gaiwan (the gongfu cha way or Eastern style, as I sometimes refer to it) requires a larger amount of tea leaves and less water compared to a Western style method (large teapot, little amount of tea leaves, longer steep time). It also entails multiple infusions, which give the tea leaves the opportunity to fully open up over the course of multiple short steeps.
What you’ll need:
Tea leaves
Optional scale
Gaiwan (with or without saucer)
Sharing pitcher (fairness cup)
Tasting cups
Waste bowl
Optional strainer
Optional timer
Tray or shallow plate
Temperature controlled kettle
How I do it:
Heat your water in the kettle to the desired temperature or the most appropriate temperature for the tea you are going to brew.
Measure your tea leaves using a scale (this step is optional, you could also eyeball it).
Take the lid off the gaiwan and set it aside. Pour water from the kettle into the gaiwan and fill it up. Put the lid back on and wait a few seconds. Tilt the lid slightly and while firmly holding the tilted lid in place, pick up the gaiwan and pour the hot water into the sharing pitcher. Set down the gaiwan. Swirl the water in the sharing pitcher and pour it into the tasting cups. Swirl the water in the tasting cups and discard it into the waste bowl.
Take the lid off the gaiwan and place your tea leaves inside. Put the lid back on and while holding it firmly shut, pick up the gaiwan and shake the leaves a few times like you would with a cocktail in a cocktail shaker.
Slightly tilt the lid open and inhale the aroma.
Pour the hot water onto the tea leaves, close the lid and steep for the appropriate time. You can set a timer if you prefer. In the meantime, tilt the lid and nudge the tea leaves around to encourage steeping with the rim of the lid.
When the steep time is up, slightly tilt the lid, firmly hold it in place, pick up the gaiwan and pour the brewed tea into the sharing pitcher. The lid will act as a filter. You can use a filter on top of the sharing pitcher if you prefer. Set the gaiwan down and pick up the lid. Smell the inside of the lid to identify volatile aromas. Set the lid aside.
Pour the tea from the sharing pitcher into the tasting cups.
Enjoy.
Try smelling the empty tasting cup after you’re done drinking to pick up more subtle nuances.
Repeat steeping the same leaves by increasing steep time each steep. Some teas can yield up to 10-12 steeps.
Here’s a short video that demonstrates the above mentioned steps. Please like, save and share if you found it useful!
Do you want to get started with a gaiwan and need extra guidance? Let me know, I’d be happy to help!