Stop Treating Pu-erh Like Crypto: Collecting Isn’t the Same as Enjoying
There is something peculiar about buying tea that we have no intention of drinking.
We examine its origin. We study the production year. We consider the reputation of the maker, the condition of the wrapper, and whether the tea might become more valuable in another decade.
Then we put it away.
I understand the attraction. Pu-erh has a history that rewards curiosity, and its ability to change with age makes it unlike many other teas. A well-stored cake of raw Pu-erh can develop characteristics quite different from those it possessed when first produced.
There is pleasure in witnessing that transformation.
But somewhere along the way, I wonder whether we have confused appreciation with accumulation.
Tea collecting has begun to resemble another familiar activity: investing in something because we believe someone else might eventually pay more for it.
The language is remarkably similar.
Scarcity. Provenance. Appreciation. Market demand.
Even the anxiety feels familiar.
We worry about buying too late, choosing the wrong vintage, or opening something that might be worth more unopened. A tea cake becomes less a drink and more an asset whose future value must be protected.
I find that a strange responsibility to place upon a few hundred grams of leaves.
Of course, collecting Pu-erh is not inherently foolish. Serious collectors have helped preserve important teas, documented production histories, and developed knowledge about ageing that ordinary drinkers might otherwise never encounter.
I respect that.
There is also nothing unreasonable about setting aside tea to observe how it changes over time. That is part of Pu-erh’s fascination, particularly with sheng, or raw Pu-erh, which can undergo significant changes during storage.
But ageing is not a guarantee of improvement. Time changes tea; it does not automatically make it better. Storage conditions, the original material, and personal taste all influence whether those changes are desirable.
With quiet regard, N. P. Lim
Stop Adding Sugar First: You’re Training Your Tongue Wrong
There is a habit I have noticed among tea drinkers. Sugar goes in before the first sip. Perhaps it is only a small spoonful. Perhaps two. But the tea is sweetened before it has been given a chance to introduce itself. I used to do this too. It seemed harmless. Tea was bitter, sugar made…
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Is Tea a Diuretic? What Your Daily Cup Really Does for Hydration
Picture a sticky afternoon in Singapore. The kind where the air sits heavy on your shoulders and the walk from the MRT feels longer than it should. You reach for something cold. Maybe a teh peng from the drinks stall, ice clinking in a plastic cup. Maybe a bottle of green tea from the convenience…
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Cold Brew Tea Isn’t Lazy, Hot Purists Just Don’t Like Being Wrong
I used to think cold brew tea was cheating. Not seriously, of course. But there was something about it that felt almost too easy. No kettle. No worrying about water temperature. No watching the clock while the leaves steep. Just tea, cold water, and a little patience. It seemed suspiciously effortless. Then I actually started…
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A Taste of Taiwan in Every Pour: Yi Fang Taiwan Fruit Tea
There are drinks that catch your eye before you even take a sip. A tall cup, fruit pressed gently against the plastic, tea glowing amber underneath. Something about it feels right for a warm afternoon. Light. A little cheerful. Easy to carry. But if you slow down for a moment, some of those cups have…
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Your Tea Isn’t Bitter—You’re Overbrewing It (And It’s Not Your Fault)
There is a particular disappointment that comes from making a cup of tea that tastes bitter. You choose the leaves carefully. You heat the water. You wait. Then the first sip arrives, and something feels wrong. For a long time, I assumed bitterness meant the tea itself was not very good. Perhaps the leaves were…
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When Tea Meets Tropical: 5 Fruit Teas in Singapore to Try
There’s a specific kind of Singapore afternoon. The air feels thick, your shirt clings a little, and every mall entrance feels like a reward. On days like that, I don’t want anything heavy. I want something cold, bright, and full of fruit, but still recognizably tea. That’s where fruit teas come in. In Singapore, they’ve…
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Temperature Rules Are Overblown: The Real Brewing Variable Nobody Mentions
I used to think making tea required a thermometer. Not literally, perhaps, but almost. Every tea seemed to have a number attached to it. Green tea at this temperature. Oolong at another. Black tea a little hotter. Too hot and you had apparently ruined everything. For a while, I took these rules quite seriously. Then…
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Afternoon Tea at Prada Caffè ION Orchard: A Green Room, a Pale-Blue Cup
Afternoon tea has always been about the pause for me. Not the tiers or the silverware. Just the moment when the cup is set down, the steam rises, and everything outside seems to slow a little. So I wondered what a pause would feel like inside a fashion house. One floor above Orchard Road, past…
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A Love Letter to Oolong: The In-Between That Changed My Mind
I did not understand oolong when I first encountered it. It seemed unnecessarily complicated. Green tea was green tea. Black tea was black tea. I understood where they stood. Oolong seemed determined to remain somewhere in between. Perhaps that was what initially kept me from appreciating it. Over time, however, I began to realise that…
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Tea from Assam: The Geography, Craft, and Character Behind the Brew
The colour arrives first. A deep amber that darkens towards red as the tea leaves give up their strength. Then comes the aroma. It is warm and rounded, often compared to malt or the crust of fresh bread. The first sip has weight. It fills the mouth with a rich body and leaves a slight,…
