Fruit-Cinnamon Rock Tea

Fruit-Cinnamon Rock Tea (Qi Lan Wuyi Yan Cha)

The Phoenix Reborn from Fire – A 300-Year-Old Roasting Legacy

Born Where Cliffs Kiss the Clouds
From the heart of Wuyi Mountain’s, this tea terroir gifts its rocks a voice. Our Rock Tea bushes grow where morning mists cling to iron-rich cliffs, their roots drinking mineral springs that whisper of ancient volcanic fires. Each leaf carries "Yan Yun" (Rock Rhyme)—the soul of stone translated into liquid poetry.

9-Generation Fire Mastery

🔥 Triple Charcoal Roasting
The family’s secret:

1. First Fire (120°C, 8hrs): Locks in orchid freshness

2. Second Fire (140°C, 12hrs): Develops cinnamon bark warmth

3. Third Fire (90°C, 24hrs): Crafts honeyed aftertaste

🌳 Hand-Picked Precision
Only 7-8cm mature leaves are plucked during the 10-day "Guyu" season. Their thicker cell walls withstand intense roasting while preserving 18% higher flavonols than machine-harvested leaves.

Tasting Notes 🪨🔥

• Dry Leaf: Smoldering oakmoss → Crystallized tamarind

• Liquor: Molten amber with dancing gold flecks

• Aroma: Charred peach skin → Osmanthus jam → Fossilized resin

• Body: Velvet texture with a flinty mineral spine

• Afterglow: 20-minute lingering sweetness, like sucking on a honey-coated river stone

"This tea doesn’t just taste of fire—it tastes how forging a samurai sword smells."

Alchemical Brewing

⚒️ Water: Wuyi spring water or Volvic (pH 7.2 ideal)
🌡️ Temp: 98°C (208°F) – must hear the "sizzle" when hitting leaves
🕰️ Steep:

1. 3s rinse (awakens the dragon)

2. 8s → 15s → 25s... up to 12 infusions
   🍶 Vessel: Thin-walled Zhuni clay teapot – conducts heat like a blacksmith’s forge

Master Tip: Pair 3rd infusion with dark chocolate (85%+ cocoa). The tannins duel gloriously!

Why It’s Priceless

• 📜 Ming Dynasty Manuals: Roasting techniques unchanged since 1637

• 🔬 Science-Backed: Fuzhou University study confirms 3x higher thearubigins than standard Yan Cha

Imagine This:
Rain drums against your cabin roof. You cradle the warm cup, its aroma a campfire of memories. As the liquid gold touches your lips, time collapses—you’re tasting the same fire-ritual that Qing emperors demanded with their mooncakes.