If green tea is the dew of spring and black tea the hearth of winter, then Da Hong Pao—literally “Big Red Robe”—is the echo of st...

Rising like an emerald island above the Tropic of Cancer, Taiwan’s Alishan mountain range traps moist Pacific air into perpetual ...

Ask most Western drinkers to name a Chinese black tea and they will murmur “Earl Grey” or “English Breakfast,” unaware that both ...

Tucked beneath the humid emerald canopies of southern Guangxi, Liupu tea waits like a quiet archive of centuries. Foreign palates...

Long before Assam, Ceylon or Darjeeling entered the lexicon of tea, a small village deep in China’s Wuyi Mountains produced a lea...

High in the Wuyi Mountains of northern Fujian, where the Nine-Bend River coils like a dragon’s tail through granite cliffs, grows...

When Chinese tea lovers speak in reverent tones of “rock rhyme”—the elusive mineral melody that lingers after swallowing—they are...

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

Ask most tea lovers to name China’s oldest black tea and the answer is usually “Keemun” or “Yunnan Gold.” Few realize that both ...

Long before English tea clippers raced across the oceans and before Duchess Anna poured the first cup that launched afternoon tea...