Lewis Perin wrote:
> This is very interesting, now that you mention it. I've noticed this
> often myself. Dog Ma, are you there?

No. Not until my Zen teacher gets back, anyway.

So much to say, so few actual facts, so much mythology unshakably
installed in uninquiring minds... Here are two propositions that may be
useful (or not):

1. Reciprocity. In an arithmetically linear system, twice the (x) for
half the (y) gives the same (z). Twice the wattage added to a fixed mass
of water for half the time gives the same rise in temperature. And it
doesn't matter how fast, or in what order, or what kind.

The only problem is that nothing in real life is linear. Not only is
arithmetic commutativity rare, but there is often a strong history
dependence. For one small example, that second steep is generally made
on a pot and contents at higher temperature than the first. And
extraction of some components probably rises rapidly with temperature,
while others may actually decline. (Yes, inverse temperature coefficient
of solubility really happens. It usually results from entropy-driven
changes in structure and/or hydration.) It is most improbable that one
long steep at any chosen temperature will produce the same results as
even a mix of sequential steeps, much less any one of them individually.

My attitude is that if one enjoys the blend effect, then go for it. Many
of us prefer to attend and appreciate the sequence of (often dramatic)
changes that occur through four to twenty steeps of tea that was made
for this. (I.e., almost anything but dust/fannings and CTC reds that are
bruised to put the juice within easy reach.) It means more involvement,
which can be soothing ritual, amusing experimentation or a big
inconvenience. No judgment; just choice. When I want a jolt, it's red
tea and milk, one long and very hot steep every time. For enjoying the
tea, much lower temperatures and rarely fewer than 8~10 small steeps.

2. Flavor masking, balancing and other non-scaling experiential factors.
If life is non-linear generally, sensory systems are much more so. Lots
of things saturate or change significantly in perceived qualities at
high concentrations. Hydrogen sulfide is famously dangerous because,
already much more toxic than cyanide, it numbs the nose below the danger
threshold. Durian, conversely, is pretty vile even to most of us
aficionados. But at nasal saturation, it's not much worse than at lower
levels, and the wonderful flavor takes over.

Not having seen (or sought) any scientific publications on the subject,
I wouldn't know for sure. But my personal experience is consistently
that many notes in tea reach saturation quickly, while others scale
monotonically. So where short, repeated steeps of some oolongs and green
Pu-erhs come out sweet, fragrant and smooth, slightly longer ones are
bitter, tannic, harsh. One might infer that the "nice" notes saturate
while the "nasty" ones just keep building. Good argument for gong-fu
brewing.

There is a great deal more one could say about both of these points. But
who cares, other than for idle curiosity or sententious argument? Why
not just find your preferred way to make tea, and enjoy it? The main
value of such understanding, even to those who have (which is far fewer
than pretend to it, or have been told they have it by others who also
don't) is probably to point experimentation in directions most likely to
be personally fruitful.

And speaking of myth, just to raise the stakes: a cake of my best Pu-erh
to anyone who can provide some convincing science to support the
oft-cited "fact" that oxygen in water is critical to making good tea.

-DM