Could bugs make your tea taste better?
The more we learn about nature, the more we realize what a complex, delicately balanced system it is. In the modern era, we often romanticize this as a sort of beautiful, serene harmony, an Eden from which we've fallen. But the truth is what appears as harmony has emerged through constant, ongoing competition. Wherever there is an ecological niche, something finds a way to fill it. For instance, I learned recently about a specific type of microscopic wasp you can order online, release into your apartment, and they will exclusively feed on the larvae of clothing moths. Once your infestation is gone, the wasps that you never even saw just die out. So yes, there is balance in nature, but it is a balance achieved in large part through competition, which ultimately leads to an ever more complex environment as each organism evolves to out-compete the rest and use the resources at its disposal.
In any case, why am I writing this? Not just to philosophize. As much as I'd love to somehow tie Thomas Hobbes and Jean-Jacques Rousseau to tea farming, a more useful study of the state of nature comes from looking at the organisms with which we are "competing" directly: insects. Maybe I can tie-in something about Sun-Tzu and knowing your enemy, but I'm guessing there's no section in "The Art of War" that mentions that if you study your enemy long enough, you realize they are actually pretty cool and you shouldn't be fighting in the first place.
Bug-Bitten Tea
This is a term you hear thrown around in the context of Taiwanese Oolongs. In these instances, tea growers actually want insects, like the Green Tea Leafhopper, to damage their tea leaves. Why is this so?
As I've discussed in the context of shading tea leaves, some stress can be good for a tea plant. As a result of stressors such as low light, the plant produces molecules that taste good and protect it at the same time. Well, sustaining insect damage is another type of stress that, in the right proportions, can positively affect the flavor of tea.
In short, when a tea plant is bitten by an insect, it triggers a defensive reaction - an enzymatic process that produces more aromatic terpenes in the leaves. It also tells the plant to shuttle extra sugars to the damaged areas so as to more effectively rebuild itself. As a result, bug-bitten tea is known to have more natural sweetness and a heightened honey and floral aroma. Now, the only teas we buy that are advertised as bug-bitten tend to be Taiwanese Oolongs. That said, nature is in competition everywhere, and insects like the Leafhopper don't care if the tea leaves are going to be processed into oolong, black tea, or matcha. They just want the fresh tea leaf. So, we can quite confidently say that insect damage happens to some degree to all tea leaves.
So why are insecticides used?
First of all, the widespread use of insecticides in Japanese tea farming proves the above point - insects that damage the tea leaf are present in tea fields in Japan. Consequently, where insecticides are not used, we can expect at least some degree of the beneficial flavor changes caused by insect damage. So, why do Japanese farmers use insecticides? There are a few reasons.
First of all, insect damage may result in a more complex tea, but it reduces yield. Lower yields mean lower profits. This is the most obvious answer to the question - just follow the money.
Secondly, in the world of matcha, complexity is taken for granted. As I have written about at length in the past, what growers are all too often looking for is umami, creaminess, and smoothness. Whether a matcha is floral or fruity does not factor into their assessment of its quality, which, to me, is a shame.
Lastly, there can be too much of a good thing. The right amount of insect damage is beneficial to a tea's quality, but past a certain point, the plant becomes too damaged to even grow and provide a usable harvest. Normally, insect damage is limited by the natural biodiversity of nature; the insect will bite a leaf, the leaf will release aromas and signaling molecules to attract predators, the predators will eat the attacking insect, and everything is kept in balance. But we humans have a pesky way of inserting ourselves in the middle of this process and disrupting biodiversity such that this natural balance cannot be achieved. When we use insecticides, or insist on monocropping, the leaf-biting insect as well as the insect-biting insect populations all decline. Without natural predators left, synthetic ones are the only option.
A return to organic farming practices would then require a return to looking after the biodiversity of the tea farm as a whole. This is a tall order, and often requires the commitment of passionate, small-scale farmers - like the ones we work with - to achieve. This is why we love coming across evidence of non-tea plants or even the occasional dehydrated spider-egg sack in our unprocessed tencha - it's a sign that the tea was really grown in a diverse environment, and the natural balance provided by nature's competition is humming away on these farms.
That's it for today. Make sure to thank the next insect you see if you can - it's filling some random, obscure niche.
Thanks for reading and happy sipping,
Simon