When Chinese tea lovers speak of “rock tea,” they are invoking the spirit of Wuyi Da Hong Pao, the scarlet-robed sovereign that g...

If green tea is the fresh-faced youth of Chinese teas and pu-erh the wise elder, then Da Hong Pao sits somewhere in between—an el...

If oolong tea were a royal court, Wuyi Da Hong Pao would sit on the basalt throne. Born among the vertiginous crevices of northe...

If green tea is China’s liquid spring and pu-erh its earthy archive, then Da Hong Pao sits somewhere between poetry and geology—a...

If green tea is the fresh watercolor of Chinese tea art and pu-erh the slow-aged oil painting, then Da Hong Pao sits somewhere be...

If any Chinese tea can claim both imperial legend and modern rock-star status, it is Da Hong Pao—Big Red Robe—born on the vertigi...

If green tea is China’s springtime and pu-erh its autumn, then Da Hong Pao is the twilight hour when granite peaks glow crimson a...

If green tea is China’s springtime whisper and pu-erh its autumnal soliloquy, then Da Hong Pao—Big Red Robe—occupies the twilight...

High in the mist-crowned Wuyi Mountains of northern Fujian, where vertical cliffs drop into the Jiuqu Stream’s hair-pin bends, gr...

If any single tea can embody the romance, danger, and poetry of Chinese oolong, it is Da Hong Pao—literally “Big Red Robe”—grown ...