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Tea History
Chinese Tea History
It is a sheer pleasure to speak about the history of tea. Part of this history goes far beyond the scopes of the comprehensible past and relates rather to the mythological times than to history. This means that those crumbs of legends that came to us from Ancient China can be turned into impressive narrative rich in dramatic tension but with a happy ending. It is only natural that tea dealers (and the Chinese in the first place) practice such myth-making most actively.
The Chinese tea history (as the tea history in general) actually starts with mythology. According to one version, more than five thousand years ago, a wonderful creature with animal body parts named Shen Nung — the first emperor of China and the first farmer — wandered in Ancient China, tasted different things, and then, taking advantage of his belly being transparent, studied the processes which arose in his abdomen. During one of such experiments he found out that leaves of tea-trees brewed in water are tasty and wholesome. For both his transparent and many other — not that transparent — stomachs.
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Lu Yu, the author of Cha Ching, famous ancient book about tea. And Mao. Photo by Alexey Churakov. | |
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According to another version, the first tea tree grew from the eyelids which had been cut off in rage by one Buddhist monk who fell asleep during his meditation. The invigorative effect of tea is often explained by this meditative origin. The first record of tea in China dates back to 770 BC and does not allude to any romantic tales about either torn-out eyelids or transparent bellies.
For us, tea consumers, the evolution of tea drinking may be of primary concern in the Chinese tea history — they first drank it not the way we drink it today. The Chinese experimented a lot with the use of tea until about the 8th century AD — they drank it salted, made soup of it, boiled it (instead of brewing) — to cut a long story short, for several centuries China was looking for an optimal way to use tea. Finally this way was found.
Salt was excluded from tea recipes in about the 9th or 10th century. At that time tea (green tea) was ground into powder and then frothed in water. The color of the froth was considered nearly the main value of the drink. This very way of tea making was the first to be spread almost all over China. The Japanese also adopted this tea application which they are still practicing now with only a few alterations. Who knows, but for the Mongols, this powdered frothed tea might have been adopted by the Europeans just as well.
In 1206 nomadic tribes invaded China from the North and dwelled there until 1368. This simple steppe people had no need for Chinese tea ceremonies, and froth tea tradition of China fell into decay once and for all.
During the Ming dynasty (1368-1644) another tea tradition evoked in its place — brewing of dry tea leaves in boiled or hot water — the way of tea making we are all accustomed to. It was adopted by the Europeans and determined the development of all other tea traditions, except the Japanese one.
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Modern Chinese tea things. Photo by Alexey Churakov. | |
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Since the 17th century the Chinese tea tradition has been inseparably linked with foreign trade. A large number of teas, tea accessories, and tea rules have been created to satisfy European tastes. The analogy may be not quite accurate but the tea tradition in China resembles the Russian matreshkas, which are not of high demand in the country — if any, but foreigners buy it willingly.
Nevertheless, it was in the 17th-19th centuries that the wonderful variety of Chinese teas that makes us happy today was formed. Export of some teas was banned and this excited European interest. However, the basis of the Chinese tea tradition was formed not by the elite but ordinary teas for masses (green as well as black), teas for the many-million population of the country and for the quite numerous European consumers.
Everything had changed with the development of tea production in India and Ceylon — the Chinese tea industry was based primarily on handicraft and could not compete with an industry set up on European methods. Indeed, nor was it a collapse; China continued selling tea, and it was a good tea, but the Golden Age of Chinese tea seemed to be lost forever. The situation was aggravated by the Cultural Revolution in China, when tea was proclaimed detrimental luxury.
Luckily for tea, the ideology did not kill tradesmen in the Chinese. When in the West the fashion for everything oriental began (about 30 years ago) the Chinese tea tradition, like Phoenix, rose from the ashes. The European demand for elite teas of high quality dressed with fine stories about dead beauties and golden dragons was satisfied instantly by the Chinese. Moreover, they promptly quilted an export tea ceremony ‘gongfu-cha’ (‘kung-fu-cha’) — based mostly on the Taiwanese tea culture.
Accompanied by liberal oriental aesthetics and simple philosophy, this ceremony as well as the entire Chinese tea tradition (which in its present state is not more than 50 years old) enchants student-girls, leads thoughtful young men into reverie, and gives some odd fascination to businessmen of all levels. It may sound funny, but in Moscow, it is much easier to have a Chinese tea ceremony than to find some English Afternoon tea or a traditional Russian tea…
That is all about the Chinese tea history. Not to be suspected in having sold myself to the West to defame the good Chinese tea, I confess that I myself do drink Chinese tea almost every day and love it a lot, just as well as I love the entire Chinese tea tradition in all its manifestations. But this love doesn’t prevent me from laughing heartily…
Denis Shumakov