This past weekend, I went with some friends to Mei-Jia Tea Garden (美加茶園) in Muzha, up the hill in the tea-growing region of Maokong. They offer a “Tea Experience DIY” tour where you can pick tea at their farm. In addition to being a fully functioning tea farm, Mei-Jia is one of the many teahouses in the area, offering meals and a beautiful scenic spot to drink tea. It’s also one of the more established tea tourism operations, receiving 800 – 1000 visitors a year, and had been recommended to me by the staff of the Muzha Farmers Association.
Tea tourism is a notable part of the Taiwan tea industry, frequently manifesting as some kind of hands-on tea farm visit. These can be found in all the major tea-growing areas. In Muzha, this started in the ’90s, at the encouragement of the local government. Initially, several farmers opened teahouses offering tea-themed cuisine. From there it’s expanded quite a bit, including the mid-2000s construction of the Maokong Gondola (a cable car system to get up the mountain). These days, the area is pretty packed on weekends. Mei-Jia was one of the first of these teahouses, established in 1990.
What struck me the most about this experience was how youth-oriented it was. Our visit was on October 10, Taiwan National Day, and the tour was full of families with young children. The tour was conducted by a brother and sister, both in their twenties, the third generation in their family to run Mei-Jia (and the tenth generation to produce tea). It’s this youngest generation that took the initiative to expand the family business to include tea tourism activities like picking tea.
It was great to see how engaged the kids in the tour group were. As our guides asked questions, the kids’ hands shot up, eager to offer guesses about which tea had the least caffeine, why the area is called Maokong, how long tea had been grown there, etc. After we finished picking, several proudly counted the leaves they’d picked, having made a competition of it. Our presenter passed around samples of different kinds of tea, as well as the tightly-tied cloth balls used to roll oolong. All the kids were excited to grab these and inspect them up close.
When you first arrive, there’s a 30 minute PowerPoint presentation. Some of which is pretty basic information, such as the different oxidation levels of the major tea types. But then, this slide came up that showed two tea fields, side by side, and our guide asked us what looked different about them?
The one on the left had these small wiry tea plants, very dark green, looking pretty sparse and in need of water. The one on the right was a bright vivid green and lush, with densely filled-in foliage. I figured this was a lesson about watering conditions. But it turns out, the one on the left is Tieguanyin (Hongxin Wai Wei Tao) and the one on the right is Jinxuan.
She went on to emphasize the differences between the two— that Tieguanyin plants might appear to have stunted growth and look generally unhealthy, but that’s just the way they grow. And that their leaves and stems are noticeably thicker, which makes them harder to pick, but that as a result, the leaves have a much more concentrated flavor.
Throughout the presentation she kept making the distinction of “oolong” (in this case meaning Jinxuan) and “Tieguanyin” (meaning Hongxin Wai Wei Tao). For instance, that oolong is oxidized to 30-40% and Tieguanyin is oxidized to 50-60%. I’ve come across this distinction before, though a lot of teahouses in Muzha refer to all their heavier-roast teas as Tieguanyin. So it was great to see this presentation making a strong distinction. And on their tea tasting menu, the first item is zhengcong Tieguanyin, not just generic Tieguanyin.
We then went out to pick tea, Jinxuan specifically. I figured we’d be out in a big field somewhere, but instead there are two small fields right above the teahouse, specifically set up for these outings. They’ve really invested in this as a part of their business.
On our way back, we got a tour of the processing facility. Our guide pointed out that Tieguanyin has the lowest level of caffeine, since the higher roast cooks some of it out of the leaves. She showed us their roasting machine, and above the door there was this white calcium-like substance caked on pretty thick. This is the crystallized form of caffeine.
As for the tea itself, it was pretty good. The highlights for me, my tastes leaning towards darker teas, were the Tieguanyin hongcha and the zhengcong Tieguanyin. The hongcha had a really nice malty chocolate-type hongcha note, bolder in profile than the more floral or acidic Taiwanese hongcha cultivars like No 18 or No 21. The zhengcong Tieguanyin was very nice, with a deep-reaching throat feel and wonderful long-lasting aftertaste.
A friend who came along, and has been to Mei-Jia several times, pointed out that their water is especially good. Apparently they collect it from a spring further up the mountain. And one nice detail, is that they never make you wait for more. There’s a spigot right outside the tea room, and you’re welcome to refill anytime.
And of course there’s the tea-themed food. Some places add fresh tea leaves to their dishes, though in this case, what we saw was mainly the use of tea oil. For instance, noodles with tea oil, or chicken roasted with tea oil (this was especially good). But the most fun was the plate of battered, deep-fried Jinxuan leaves that were brought to our table, the same leaves we’d harvested earlier that day.
That evening, I posted some photos on Instagram. Almost immediately, the Mei-Jia IG account liked my post. They don’t follow me, nor I them, but they noticed it right away, probably through some hashtags I used. This is the new generation of the tea industry in Taiwan: connected, forward-thinking, with business savvy to spare.
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