April 18, 2025
Jingshan Tea: The Gentle Elegance of a Thousand-Year Heritage
Nestled in the misty mountains of northern Hangzhou, far from the commercial buzz of West Lake’s Longjing, lies a quieter legend — Jingshan Tea. It may not have the same name recognition as its more famous cousins, but for those who know Chinese tea, Jingshan represents something more subtle, more meditative — and arguably more profound.
A Tea Born in Zen
Jingshan Tea isn’t just a beverage — it’s a ritual. Its roots trace back to the Tang and Song Dynasties, where it was closely associated with the Buddhist monasteries of Jingshan Mountain. Monks developed and refined the art of tea preparation, not merely for refreshment, but as a spiritual practice. This is where the famous “Jingshan Tea Ceremony” (径山茶宴) was born — a serene, elegant expression of harmony between nature and humanity, deeply influenced by Zen philosophy.
In fact, this very ceremony played a key role in the origins of the Japanese tea ceremony. Envoys from Japan visited Jingshan, studied the practice, and brought it home — where it evolved into the chanoyu we know today. If you’re looking for the philosophical cradle of East Asian tea culture, Jingshan is it.
The Taste of Stillness
Jingshan tea is a type of high-mountain green tea, harvested early in the spring. The leaves are tender, curled, and emit a faint aroma of bamboo and fresh grass. When brewed, the liquor is pale green, almost translucent. The flavor? It doesn’t shout — it whispers.
There is a gentle umami to it, a soft sweetness that lingers at the back of the throat. The body is light, but never thin. It’s not flashy like Bi Luo Chun, nor grassy like Sencha. It’s calm. Grounded. Almost like a deep breath in a forest.
Drinking it alone on a rainy morning, with steam rising from the cup and silence all around, you start to understand why monks chose this tea to anchor their meditation.
Why It Deserves More Attention
Let’s be honest — in the global tea market, fame often overshadows finesse. Longjing, Tieguanyin, and Da Hong Pao dominate headlines and export numbers. But Jingshan tea, with its rich history and contemplative quality, offers something they don’t: humility.
It invites you not to be impressed, but to be present.
More people should know about Jingshan tea — not just for its taste, but for what it represents. In an age of speed and spectacle, it offers slowness. In a world of algorithms and distraction, it offers presence.
And sometimes, that’s exactly what we need.
A Tea Born in Zen
Jingshan Tea isn’t just a beverage — it’s a ritual. Its roots trace back to the Tang and Song Dynasties, where it was closely associated with the Buddhist monasteries of Jingshan Mountain. Monks developed and refined the art of tea preparation, not merely for refreshment, but as a spiritual practice. This is where the famous “Jingshan Tea Ceremony” (径山茶宴) was born — a serene, elegant expression of harmony between nature and humanity, deeply influenced by Zen philosophy.
In fact, this very ceremony played a key role in the origins of the Japanese tea ceremony. Envoys from Japan visited Jingshan, studied the practice, and brought it home — where it evolved into the chanoyu we know today. If you’re looking for the philosophical cradle of East Asian tea culture, Jingshan is it.
The Taste of Stillness
Jingshan tea is a type of high-mountain green tea, harvested early in the spring. The leaves are tender, curled, and emit a faint aroma of bamboo and fresh grass. When brewed, the liquor is pale green, almost translucent. The flavor? It doesn’t shout — it whispers.
There is a gentle umami to it, a soft sweetness that lingers at the back of the throat. The body is light, but never thin. It’s not flashy like Bi Luo Chun, nor grassy like Sencha. It’s calm. Grounded. Almost like a deep breath in a forest.
Drinking it alone on a rainy morning, with steam rising from the cup and silence all around, you start to understand why monks chose this tea to anchor their meditation.
Why It Deserves More Attention
Let’s be honest — in the global tea market, fame often overshadows finesse. Longjing, Tieguanyin, and Da Hong Pao dominate headlines and export numbers. But Jingshan tea, with its rich history and contemplative quality, offers something they don’t: humility.
It invites you not to be impressed, but to be present.
More people should know about Jingshan tea — not just for its taste, but for what it represents. In an age of speed and spectacle, it offers slowness. In a world of algorithms and distraction, it offers presence.
And sometimes, that’s exactly what we need.