Fur Peak, the literal translation of Mao Feng, describes the fine white down still clinging to the young buds and leaves used for this tea. It comes from the misty mountains of Anhui province, particularly the Huangshan (Yellow Mountain) area, where the tea has a reputation for unusual richness of flavour. Legend credits local artisans with first noticing that the spring buds made an especially fragrant, mellow brew, and the tea went on to be prized by scholars and the imperial court. Harvest happens in a narrow window just after the Qingming Festival in early April, when the leaves are considered most flavourful; withering, pan-firing and rolling by hand afterwards keep the leaf shape intact and preserve a grassy, sweet aroma.
In the cup, expect a pale golden-green liquor with a light body and no bitterness. The tasting notes run through chestnut, orchid and other floral tones, fruity touches, a vegetal, grassy backbone, a hint of pastry, and a faint coffee note underneath. It's a gentle tea rather than an assertive one, which is part of why it works well for people newer to green tea. Compared with cheaper, machine-processed greens like sencha or matcha, the hand-picking behind Mao Feng adds cost but also delicacy — the flavour leans floral and sweet rather than robust and grassy.
To brew it, use water around 80°C rather than a full boil, since scorching the tender leaves turns the cup bitter. A teaspoon of leaf per 250ml is a reasonable starting point, steeped for about two and a half minutes; shorten the time for something lighter or push it slightly longer for more strength. Good leaf can be re-steeped two or three times, with each infusion given a little extra time. Drink it plain, without milk or sugar, so the natural sweetness and floral character come through. Like other green teas, it carries some caffeine, though at lower levels than black tea or coffee, and has traditionally been reached for as a calming, comforting cup.
