In a tea shop in the Huashan 1914 Creative Park, an area of galleries, studios and craft shops in a former industrial complex, a young woman served us tea in a traditional way.
She heated a small teapot, a small glass jug and cups little bigger than thimbles by pouring boiling water over them, then emptying them.
She measured about a tablespoon of tea into the pot, poured water just off the boil over them and set a timer for one minute.
When it rang she strained the tea into the glass jug and from there poured it directly into the small cups. It was high-mountain tea, beautifully fragrant and delicate.
She brewed the leaves again - tea of this quality would take nine brews, she said. The second and third brews were fuller and sweeter on the aftertaste, but after a few more brews it became lighter and less fragrant but still had a lovely, delicate green colour.
The leaves unfolded large and green, and could be used as a vegetable, mixed in a stir-fry or other dish, she said.
