Jasmine buds for this one come from Hunan Province, picked in early afternoon during summer when they're freshest, then rested in a cool, dry place until evening, when the blossoms open and release their scent. The tea leaves are layered with those fresh flowers overnight so they absorb the fragrance, and the whole cycle repeats over several weeks, with new jasmine added each round to build up the aroma. It's a slow way to scent a tea, and it shows in the cup: a smooth, buttery green base carrying real jasmine depth rather than a top note sprayed on and gone, with a lemony brightness and something almost coffee-like underneath. The region takes its name from its position south of Dongting Lake, whose surrounding climate suits the jasmine plants well.
Steep it at 75-80°C — just off the boil — for one to three minutes depending on how strong you like it, using about a teaspoon of leaf per pot or infuser. It holds up fine on its own, and pairs naturally with Chinese food; a slice of lemon alongside brings out the citrus in the cup if you want to lean into that side of the flavor. Serve it in an open bowl rather than a mug if you can, without milk, so the aroma has somewhere to go.
It carries a moderate amount of caffeine, generally less than coffee, which makes it a reasonable afternoon cup for people who still want a bit of lift without a jolt. Jasmine tea has long been used simply to unwind with — the scent itself is calming — and green tea in general has a history of being drunk for its antioxidants, though that's tradition and general reputation rather than a guarantee about what any one cup will do for you. Keep it in an airtight container out of direct light, somewhere cool and dry, and the floral character will hold up much longer than if it's left exposed on a shelf.
