Lightly fermented teas like green tea, oolong tea, white bud tea, and white peony are suitable for cold brewing. The lighter the fermentation, the sweeter and fresher the taste. However, remember not to steep cold brew tea for more than 8 hours. Those sensitive to theine can opt for cold brew tea at night, but if the goal is to stay alert, hot brewing is recommended.
Not all tea types are suitable for cold brewing
Not every tea type is suitable for cold brewing. Heavily fermented teas like black tea, Pu-erh tea, Tieguanyin, and red tea result in a bitter and bland taste with no aroma when cold brewed, making them unsuitable. Except for red tea, feel free to brew these teas with boiling water!
Cold brew tea retains more nutrients
Cold brewing tea is not only drinkable but also retains higher levels of beneficial compounds. It preserves the tea's flavor while maximizing nutrients like catechins, polyphenols, pigments, and polysaccharides, which peak in release after two hours. These compounds contribute significantly to antioxidant, lipid-lowering, and blood sugar-regulating effects, comparable to hot brewed tea.
Cold brew tea is gentle on the stomach and reduces irritation
Contrary to the belief that cold brewing increases the tea's cooling properties and causes stomach discomfort, this isn’t the case. In cold or room-temperature water, the release of compounds is slower. Sweet amino acids dissolve first, while theine (the source of bitterness), caffeine, and tannins are less extracted. This reduces bitterness, minimizes insomnia risk, promotes digestion, aids in weight loss, and is gentle on the stomach, making it suitable for sensitive individuals.
Cold brew tea
Cold brewing has long been popular in Japan and Taiwan. Both hot and cold brewing have their merits, though some argue only hot water can fully extract tea’s sweetness and aroma. We suggest experimenting with cold brewing for a novel taste while enjoying the slow, mindful process it embodies.
Steeping the world in tea, letting time slow down
Tea drinking is a state of mind—a purification of body and spirit, filtering out浮躁 and沉淀 contemplation.
Tea is a mood, a silence that speaks volumes, a melancholy that smiles faintly, the loneliness after the revelry of "a thousand reds in one cup, all glamour in one kiln." Days without tea feel平淡 and insipid.
On a lonely rainy night, brew a cup of tea, sit by the window, watch leaves fall, and listen to the rain tapping the sill. In the mist of tea aroma, savor the subtle bitterness and reflect on life’s complexities.
Gently swirl the cup, observing the tea leaves rise and fall, clustering and separating, seeking balance. Blow lightly across the surface, watching the leaves gather and part helplessly.
Take a sip, letting the mild bitterness spread across your tongue, filling your mouth. Inhale deeply, and the lingering fragrance expands through your chest, washing away fatigue. The intoxication lingers, reluctant to fade.
At night, the room fills with tea aroma. As the tea in the cup transitions from light to strong, rising and falling, clustering and parting, the bitterness and fragrance evoke a realization: life is like tea.
Sitting alone, pouring tea, watching the leaves unfurl, one reflects: tea needs boiling water to release its richness, just as life requires tempering to achieve坦然.
Without enduring life’s冷暖 and起伏, one cannot taste its depth.
Like tea leaves tumbling in hot water, we起初 collide with the world, bruised and battered. Over time, like leaves settling after multiple infusions, we sink into silence, our hearts as soft as steeped tea, embracing all expressions—kind or unkind.
A dreamlike scene enchants tea drinkers: a rainy night outside, a warm stove inside, a gentle woman nearby, a book in hand. Though lacking the romance of "red sleeves adding fragrance," the scholar finds solace in this quiet elegance.
Tea drinking becomes second nature. Initially, it may seem pretentious, but gradually, one progresses from "drinking" to "savoring," discerning bitterness and aroma, until tea becomes indispensable.
Alone in meditation, the mind becomes as still as a深山 lake, untouched and ripple-free. Sipping tea and reading, one finds clarity. Unresolved emotions, unanswered questions, and unfulfilled desires slowly dissolve.
Tea is a mood, silence, melancholy, and solitude—a repository of memories. In any season, each person is like a tea leaf, destined to blend into the vast world.
In this blending, society overlooks individuals, just as drinkers rarely notice each leaf in the cup. Yet, like tea leaves, we leave our fragrance behind.
Life seeks elegance—淡 fame,淡 gain, no strife, no contention. All is natural, transcendent, and serene. Such is the flavorless yet profound tea. Elegance is my pursuit; elegance is my wish!
First, quench thirst. Sweet aftertaste lingers.
Second, soothe the body. Dispel烦恼, invigorate.
Third, calm the heart. Purify the soul, uplift the spirit.
Time erodes youth, beauty, and passion, but a cup of tea slows the world down. In a chaotic society, tea reconnects us to life’s essence. In its simplicity, we rediscover ourselves.
Tea drinking boils down to two actions—lifting and放下. Life, for all its complexity, is equally simple. Why cling to trivial matters or纠缠 with others? Often, letting go is the answer, just like喝茶—merely lifting and放下.
Tonight, under a full moon, brew a pot of tea to慰藉 yourself. Late at night, amid the faint tea aroma, find tranquility. Shed pretenses and浮躁, leaving only serenity. Into dreams, into the heart...