Grown in the western hills of Zhejiang province, between Fujian to the south and Jiangsu to the north, this green tea takes its name from the fog and mist that regularly settle over its high-altitude gardens, sited between 2,500 and 3,000 feet. Zhejiang's altitude is part of what gives its teas their character, and the cool temperatures and heavy humidity typical of this terrain shape a leaf that carries the marks of its surroundings. The whole crop is grown and processed organically rather than through conventional methods.
Organic growing here means no synthetic pesticides or fertilisers, which matters beyond the tea itself: nitrogen-based chemicals that aren't taken up by the plants tend to wash into local waterways, where they can feed algal blooms and starve the water of oxygen. The tea is certified organic by the regulatory body of its country of origin, then checked again on entry into the European Union, where any container that fails inspection is resealed and sent back rather than sold.
The leaf is processed in the orthodox style and graded FTGFOP1, a grade traditionalists will recognise. In the cup it pours pale yellow with greenish highlights, light in tone, and the flavour runs toward lemon, orange and honey over a grassy backbone, with a thick body, a refreshing finish and a faint fish-like note some drinkers catch on the way out.
Green tea's appeal owes a lot to its polyphenols, catechins in particular, with EGCG singled out as the most active of them, and it has long been drunk in the belief that these compounds support general health. To brew it, use freshly boiled water left to cool to about 80C, then steep for around three minutes. Most people take it plain, though some stir in lemon or honey.
