Steeped in tradition
Once seen as a hotbed of subversion, the Chinese teahouse-
and its cool, modern counterpart-is reviving a fine custom,
writes Linda Furiya

China’s Rich Teahouse legacy is steeped in Chinese history and culture. Teahouses were the central gathering places for artisans, philosophers and local residents, where business deals were made, gossip circulated, and revolutions hatched over the ubiquitous pots of tea and dishes of dumplings or nuts.

Although the coffee craze is sweeping both Shanghai and Beijing, the demand for tea is far from disappearing. In fact, the teahouse renaissance is reviving the charming old favourities and inviting a new outcrop of Chinese salon de the catering toward the younger, trendier crowd.

In fast-paced Shanghai, Hai Cheng Teahouse (Tel: 8621 6467 7259) is an intimate haven nestled on Shao Xing Road, a charming street gaining bohemian notoriety for its collection of contemporary art galleries.

Calligraphy scrolls and water colour paintings of blossoming peonies mounted on large wood screens divide the main room into inviting private nooks. The midday hush is broken by the occasional rustling of newspaper or the click of a porcelain mug as businessmen enjoy a meditative hot tea between meetings or take a moment to catch up on the day’s news. Unlike the sprawling chain teahouses, this independently operated neighborhood teahouse has a small drinks menu highlighting top-grade wulong, longjin and green teas at $34HK a cup and medium-grade teas costing about $9HK. At night, the tables fill with locals eager to play a few hands of popular card games.

During Shanghai’s concession years, before Fang Bang Zhong Lu became “Shanghai Old Street,” local residents would queue up at the “stone tiger”, the public water tap where boiled water for tea was sold. The original taps were still there as is another spot that pays homage to the glamour of the 1930’: the Old Shanghai Teahouse (Tel: 8621 5382 1202). Tea lovers can enjoy a bird’s-eye view of the bustling street below from one of the comfy window-side armchairs while sipping a cup of qimen black tea ($24HK) or mint chrysanthemum ($17HK), accompanied by peanuts, pine nuts and pistachios ($11HK). Nostalgic tunes, antique maps, photographs and vintage dark wood furnishings give a heartfelt sense of a lost era.

Located on the trendy, tree-lined Heng Shan Road, Harn Sheh Fragrant Camphor (Tel: 8621 6474 6547) exemplifies Shanghai’s new style of teahouse. No bamboo décor and calico-dressed waitresses here. Instead, the black and white garbed staff ply an extensive beverage list that includes traditional and not-so-traditional hot and cold teas such a Korean ginseng and crushed ice drinks with flavours such as mungbean and peach.

Modern floor-to-ceiling windows, strings of small white lights, and lofty ceilings make this a favorite hang-out for the city’s young and upwardly mobile, who juggle conversations with friends on the mobile and in person. Harn Sheh has the usual teahouse nibbles such as peanuts and friend peas, but also ride, noodles, pastas, and dumpling dishes for those with heartier, talking-into-the-late night appetites.

The Beijing teahouse theatre scene never fully recovered following the Cultural Revolution when most of the capital’s teahouses were deemed dens of dissension and closed down. A place to enjoy an evening of tea-drinking, snacks, and a strong sampling of Chinese performance arts including Beijing opera, acrobats, cross-talk ditties, and singing, today’s teahouse theatre is attracting a younger crowd that appreciates an alternative form of entertainment to bars and clubs.

Named after a popular Beijing writer, Laoshe Teahouse (Tel: 8210-6303-3830) comes with the traditional accoutrements, the Chinese lanterns dripping with tassels and winsome waitresses wearing the traditional qi pao and a professionally equipped state and teleprompter for first-time opera attendants. A $79HK cover charge gets you a good seat for the two-hour variety show which includes a bottomless cup of tea, dried watermelon seeds, chewy preserved plums, and other sweets to graze on during the show. For an additional $68HK, make the evening an all-out occasion with a Peking duck meal.

The Green Tea House (Tel: 8621-6468-5903), on the other hand, takes the scholarly Beijing tea salon to a stylized extreme. Surreal details include classic Ming chairs crafted with elongated Dali-esque backs that seem to brush the wood-beam ceilings. Candles blaze in every dark corner and water trickles from a concealed rock garden. Even the tea selection has a nether-world quality to it. Cold drinks like the high mountain wulong tea with green apple juice ($44) are imaginative and refreshing. The hot green tea with bamboo leaves and pear ($67) and Purple Rose tea ($64) goes deliciously with the conventional dianxin (snacks): rose and black tea flavored dried orange peel ($240, purple chestnut ice-cream ($67) and green tea dumplings ($85) served in lavish containers garnished with handfuls of flower petals.

A new member of Beijing’s teahouse community is Qiao Ying Teahouse (Tel: 8621-6593-3394), on busy Dongda Qiao Road. This sleek modern teashop, named after its hip 27-year old owner, gets tea from Fujian province where her father, a longtime tea broker, provides the small tea salon with the best the region has to offer. Her mother also helps by making delicious homemade treats such as candied orange peel and other Fujian tea accompaniments such as dried plums and thin sweet click sesame wafers.

The tea (all are $24HK a cup or $179HK for a pot) is outstanding, but it’s the wondrous herbal infusions with evocative names like dream butterfly that have become a hit. Pulling from the shelves cluttered with glass vials and jars, Qiao Ying blends Tibetan snow tea, a mossy grass that grows in ice and snow and emits a crimson cloud to hot water, spicy cinnamon blossom, and bright yellow wild chrysanthemum.