Steeped in Authenticity
Berkeley's Imperial Tea Court is part restaurant, part interactive museum.

You reach a certain point at which you think you've tried everything — at least, everything major. Sure, eyeballs — fish, pig, goat — await. But tongue? Tried it. Knuckles? Check. Durian sherbet, cockroach wine, thrush pâté? Check, check, check. So when a new taste comes along after you've passed that point, you're stunned. You want to stand and sing like someone in a musical. You second-guess yourself, snorting: Was it really that good?

Businessman and ordained Taoist priest Roy Fong opened the original Imperial Tea Court in San Francisco's Chinatown in 1993, then added another in the Ferry Building and then, two years ago, this one. The Chinatown court closed last year.

Entered through a round "moon gate" doorway that you reach by crossing a bridge over a horsetail-fringed brook, the Berkeley court's interior provides few modern-world clues: The huge lanterns hang over massive carved rosewood tables and high-backed chairs whose dark, rigid Raise the Red Lantern formality evokes multiconcubine upper-class-family meals. Alcoves lining the walls display tea ware: character-incised cups, sea foam-hued celadon, "purple sand" yixing pots shaped like rabbits, pigs, and puffer fish. On a counter are teas sold by the leaf, brick, and ball. A chalkboard over the exposed kitchen lists daily specials.

San Francisco: Gateway to Tea Story and photography by Bruce Richardson The new year quietly brought an end to one of the most important sanctuaries for tea in America’s recent tea renaissance. Most tea consumers across the country would not know the name Roy Fong. But, anyone who seriously entertained a calling to a vocation in tea over the past decade has made a pilgrimage to San Francisco to share a cup of tea and a few hours of instruction from this tea master at his Imperial Tea Court in Chinatown. Pilgrim after pilgrim made their way down the steep slopes of Powell Street to sit in an authentic red and black lacquered Chinese made tea house and drink tea with Roy while being serenaded by finches perched in a half dozen cages hanging from the ceiling. The marble floor, wooden walls, paneled ceiling, handmade furnishings, and the owner were all imported from China. As a small boy in China, Roy Fong would walk to school each morning and pass workers huddled around a fire drinking tea from small handleless cups. These memories came with him when his family immigrated to California when he was in his teens. Though he owned a lucrative car-towing business, he had a smoldering passion to bring an authentic Asian tea experience to his new hometown, San Francisco. On July 4, 1993, Roy opened Imperial Tea Court and introduced specialty tea to a city that, luckily, had a thirst for quality. His tea list was unlike anything previously seen this side of the Pacific. It was filled with fine Dragonwells, expensive monkey-picked oolongs, aged puehrs, and delicate silver needles. His prices were unheard of as well. One local Chinese matron scolded him the first week for “charging such extravagant prices for tea that could be bought elsewhere in Chinatown for reasonable money!” Little did she understand that Roy was selling rare teas not offered anywhere in America and San Franciscans were eager to pay any price for them. Roy’s preferred method of brewing oolongs is Kung Fu (sometimes referred to as Gongfu.) "Everybody's heard of Kung Fu martial arts,” he reminds us. “But Kung Fu actually applies to almost everything in life. It represents anything that takes patience, practice, or skill to achieve." A nearby resident and tea writer, James Norwood Pratt, wandered by the first week and was subsequently name Honorary Director of the tea house. He is fond of pointing out that “only in San Francisco can a boy from the North Carolina countryside become affiliated with the first authentic teahouse in the western hemisphere.” Imperial Tea Court became an extension of Norwood’s home and anyone who visited his abode on Green Street was soon taken to meet his brother in tea, Roy Fong. Like the Chinese, Roy and Norwood believe that tea is a civilizing force. "Let's be human beings and drink tea," they are fond of saying. Over the years, hotels, restaurants and tea retailers have turned to Roy to supply their specialty oolongs and green teas. His wholesale tea trade grew rapidly and he opened retail locations in The Ferry Building and in neighboring Berkeley. It became harder and harder for him to devote time to his original Chinatown location. He realized it had been his pulpit for fifteen years but he needed to let it go in order to move forward with his greater mission.    Always re-inventing himself, this godfather of tea and Taoist priest now devotes his time to firing oolongs, looking after his growing wholesale trade, and dreaming of new ways to infuse tea into America’s veins. Sadly, the Imperial Tea Court in Chinatown is no more but Roy Fong’s influence continues to be felt throughout the Bay area and across America. The Bay Area Phenomenon Why has tea found such a receptive audience in San Francisco and the surrounding area? Tea’s prolific growth is planted in the fertile Bay Area soil and nurtured by its ethnic diversity. Tea packagers such as Republic of Tea, Leaves, Mighty Leaf Tea Company, Numi, Peets, Red&Green and Silk Road all had their roots here, not to mention the venerable importer G.S.Haly Company and new local tea businesses like Red Blossom, Poleng, and Vitatea. Gaetano Maida is the executive director of the Tea Arts Institute in Oakland and a cast member of the movie “All This in Tea.” He has witnessed tea’s bloom here over the past decade. "The Bay Area is the center of the current tea renaissance,” he claims. “No other city has this range and depth."    He may be right. Jennifer Sauer certainly agrees with his pronouncement. A professional photographer and aspiring student of tea, she chronicled nearly every tea venue in the area for her 2007 book, “The Way of Tea.” She claims that San Francisco, with its 18 tea rooms and tea shops, is “home to the world’s most eclectic tea party.” And that doesn’t include all the grand hotels that have been serving up stylish afternoon teas since the great fire of 1906. She writes, “The San Francisco Bay area is home to some of the most profoundly knowledgeable tea experts on the planet, from Roy Fong at Imperial Tea Court to May Hung, a descendent of Confucius as well as a licensed Chinese Tea Examiner, to Alice Cravens, formerly tea maven at Chez Panisse and the proud owner of Modern Tea, to Urasenke Foundation’s Christy Bartle, to whom people travel from Japan in order to study Japanese tea ceremony.” Her colorful and comprehensive guide book is quietly bringing the Bay area tea phenomenon to light and savvy tea lovers from across the globe are traveling here with tea on their mind. The Asian Influence Across the Bay Bridge, tea is hotter than ever in Berkeley, thanks in large part to young entrepreneurs like Winnie Yu. Winnie's passion for tea began at a young age in Hong Kong. She developed a taste for a wide range of teas from green to black. After moving to the United States, she found it difficult to purchase quality and unblended teas. She decided to import the teas herself. “I wanted to offer some of the best teas available and support small growers,” she said. “Our mission is to introduce and revive the art of drinking, preparing, and appreciating traditional, whole leaf teas.” She shares her tea finds and dispenses tea brewing advice at Teance, her tea bar and store located in one of Berkeley’s most popular retail areas. Like the captain of ship, Winnie Yu commands this tea emporium from the center of a sleek concrete and copper gaiwan-shaped tea bar where she steeps and pours winter-picked wulong (oolong) tea. The wulongs arrive from a Li Shan estate in Taiwan, one of the world's foremost centers of this endlessly complex type of tea. Or, she might offer a floral Formosa Baochong oolong or a rare Lu Shan Clouds and Mist green tea. If you see something on the retail shelve that intrigues you, Winnie will steep it. Taking a cue from the vineyards to the north of San Francisco Bay, she offers tasting flights of tea, ranging from $5 for a single tea to $15 for three or four teas. With temptations like this, few customers leave empty-handed. The other tea maven of Berkeley is Donna Lo. For ten years, she has operated Far Leaves Teas on College Avenue. This is a comfortable, unpretentious Asian teahouse where guests sit casually on tatami mats or at tables while drinking Gongfu teas. Donna’s mission is to offer an affordable but high quality tea experience. She also believes in tea’s calming powers. “Making tea is a process of meditation,” she says. “If you pay attention, you can clean your mind. In order to pay attention, you also have to slow down.” Like her neighbor at Teance, Far Leaves offers an ever-growing stable of teas from the best growing regions of China, Taiwan, Japan and India, as well as herbal infusions from all over the world. Her top sellers include: Blood Orange Herbal, Monk's Blend Black, and Pearl Jasmine. However, the store’s unique treasures are the 13 oolongs and 17 green teas offered for tasting or purchase. Northern California’s insatiable thirst for quality Asian teas has not been overlooked by foreign tea purveyors. Lupicia Fresh Tea Leaf, with 80 Japanese locations, has opened two tea shops in the Bay Area and one in San Jose. Showcasing 400 teas available throughout the year, this Japanese tea giant has the largest offering of Japanese teas in San Francisco. Wulong is again one of the top selling teas here, as is Gyukuro (Japanese green). "Our customers don't buy one bag of loose-leaf tea, they buy five to eight," says John Meneses, manager of the Westfield San Francisco Centre store. Green tea’s healthy reputation is one of the major factors motivating sales to new customers. The shops offer daily samplings of both hot and cold teas. Colorful wrapped packages of tea are displayed for easy gift giving. California nouveau Samovar Tea Lounge is a prime example of how tea is putting on a new face in America by combining the best of several tea and dining cultures. At the original location straddling the Mission and Castro districts, you find a mix of young professionals, college students, and neighborhood regulars who drop by every day to enjoy a pot of tea and pastry or a light meal. Russian, British, Chinese, and Japanese tea service are all offered in this eclectic setting. Nowhere else will you see a guest enjoying a bento box accompanied by a bowl of green gyokuro tea sitting next to diner drinking a pot of lapsang souchong and nibbling away at a three-tired stand of English afternoon tea sweets and savories. The popularity of this hospitable tearoom has spawned a second location in Yerba Buena Gardens, just steps from the Moscone Convention Center. As is true of any outstanding teahouse, the emphasis here is on the tea. From aged earthy puehr to flowery Earl Grey, there is a tea on the menu for every palate. Each is steeped and served according to tradition. Packaged teas bearing the Samovar Tea Lounge logo are the favorite take-away item at both locations. Don’t think that all tea experiences in San Francisco are either Asian or contemporary. Traditional European-inspired tea experiences are still popular occurrences at the palatial hotels such as The Ritz-Carlton, The Fairmont, The Sheraton Palace, The King George, and The Renaissance Stanford Court. The city also holds a wealth of British afternoon tearooms catering to ladies in hats and serving tea with all the petit fours and lace you can imagine. However, this style is giving way to what some call “California nouveau,” a tea experience that centers more on the leaf and less on the cliché.  San Franciscans may not realize what an extraordinary wealth of tea drinking opportunities they have at their doorstep. With its multicultural neighborhoods, diverse shops, and ethnic restaurants, this blended metropolis offers unique tea experience after unique tea experience. The ancient brew has become infused into the life of this city unlike any other in the United States. Jennifer Sauer issues an invitation at the conclusion of her introduction to “The Way of Tea.” “I cordially offer you this invitation to our local tea party, whether a Chinese tea tasting, an afternoon tea at luxury hotel, an austere Japanese tea ceremony, or a night out with friends at a tea nightclub. You can bring a hat, a kimono, a fan, a bird, a book, or a pair of white gloves. Or just come as you are. You’ll fit right in. I promise.” It remains true, as Norwood Pratt has written, "A love of tea inevitably engenders friendships around the world and any one writing a book about tea is wise to live in San Francisco, where friends from around the world may be discovered living next door.”

Tea Bargain
Imperial Tea nutures mind, body and stomach
A visit to the Imperial Tea Court, a peaceful enclave of traditional Chinese culture in the bustling Ferry Building Market Place, is about personal restoration. In a room of straight-backed Chinese chairs and dark cherrywood tables under hanging lanterns and bird cages, the teahouse lifts you out of daily routine. When the waiter comes over and asks how you're feeling before he takes your order, you know that this will be no ordinary experience.

"My friend has a cold," I told him, much to the chagrin of a working mother of three young children freshly infected from the new school year.

"May I ask your symptoms?" he inquired.

"The usual," she said. This did not stop him from delving further, much further, asking for such details as texture and color. Physicians should be so thorough. After a pensive moment, our waiter recommended a mix of chrysanthemum and white teas to loosen up the nose, soothe the cough and moisten the membranes. He suggested for the green tea lover a green oolong that smelled of orchids; and for the eater, a pu-erh, a strong, black tea that goes well with food.

He soon brought over a thick bronze tray with a perforated top, an earthenware teapot full of water and three handle-less, porcelain teacups on saucers with lids. He made us sniff each of the teas in the cups before and after they were brewed. He showed us how to drink the tea by holding saucer and cup with the left hand and moving the lid back just a fraction with the right, allowing the tea to pass through without the leaves. If the tea became too strong, we drained it into the tray and added more water from the pot. I envisioned an afternoon spent sipping and refilling.

But we had a lunch of homey dumplings to eat. Dragon well dumplings ($7.50) actually had bits of finely chopped green tea mixed into its almost creamy pork filling with chives. Tea broth won tons ($6) bathed juicy, all-pork dumplings in a perfumed broth punctuated with bits of tea leaves and scallions. Both were comforting, yet bright and exciting. On a dim sum sampler platter ($6.50), savory siu mai, noodle-wrapped steamed pork dumplings with open ends; delicate har gow, shrimp dumplings with bright shrimp flavor; and luscious, moist vegetarian spring rolls with shatteringly crisp wrappers, stood out.

To prolong your time at the table, as I did, have a plate of peanut cookies ($2), thick, crumbly, nuggets with subtle sweetness.

What makes this handful of dumplings unique is their hominess and the purity of the ingredients used in them, only right for a teahouse meant to nurture both mind and body.
The San Francisco Examiner | Patricia Unterman November 1, 2005
Tea soothes the harried shopper
The Imperial Tea Court, the Chinese teahouse with its dark wood tables, heavy empire chairs and decorative bird cages, has expanded its Ferry Building location's menu with lunch specials like braised pork stew ($10.50), vegetarian curry with tofu ($9.50) or pork won tons in a jasmine tea broth ($9).

Several teahouses also build education and special events into their repertoires. The Imperial Tea Court's Powell Street store offers classes on tea basics, tea varietals and formal tea presentations.
SFGate.com | December 8, 2004
Imperial Tea Court
Next to water, tea is the most popular drink in the world. And no one understands this better than the good folks at Imperial Tea Court. If you're an obsessed tea tattler, this is the place for you.
The San Jose Mecury News | September 7, 2004
Ferry Plaza Marketplace is a bounty of taste
The Imperial Tea Court, a serene lantern-hung parlor for purchasing and tasting more than 30 types of tea, has the elaborate decor you'd expect in a high-end Chinese restaurant. There are only a couple of customers in the rosewood tables and chairs, and the delicate Chinese classical music in the background is as soothing as a cup of Imperial Dragonwell, a pale green brew fit for an emperor.
The Marin Independent Journal | Leslie Harlib, August 26, 2004
The Traditional Chinese Teahouse
There is always music at the Imperial Tea Court. But for owner Roy Fong, who built this tranquil space from wood, nails, lacquer and glue imported entirely from China, it is tea itself that makes the most beautiful sound.
Read the entire interview. (Requires Adobe Acrobat Reader, a free download from Adobe.com.)
The Voice of America | Adam Phillips, August 5, 2004
Fine Teas Flower in the Bay Area
Our next stop took us to the edge of the Bay where Alice Waters was among the customers at the new Imperial Tea Court in San Francisco's beautifully refurbished Ferry Building Marketplace. For years, the Imperial Tea Court has been regarded as the quintessential teahouse in Chinatown, and this new branch, set in the city's bustling cathedral to cuisine (the Marketplace houses local purveyors of every imaginable gourmet food), is a refuge for weary shoppers.

Open on one side to the Marketplace, and hung with red lanterns and delicate bird cages, the Imperial Tea Court has the feel of an exotic, intimate, sanctuary; it seats about 25. We brought our kids, aged 10 and 13, who drank water instead of tea but thoroughly enjoyed the experience. We ordered the gong fu tea service ($8 a person), which is something like a Japanese tea ceremony, but less refined.

Our waiter, a gracious young man in a silk jacket, arrived with a number of unglazed teapots of various sizes and explained (to our rapt children) that they were made from river-bottom soil. He ceremoniously bathed the cups and pots by pouring steaming water over them, which ran into the hollow tin tray beneath. He recommended the Old Bush tea, and although the political jokes brewed faster than the tea, we tried to stifle them.

Our waiter passed us a small vessel with the dry leaves, which smelled remarkably like cocoa. Then, after wetting them, he passed it again. The aroma had been transformed into something leafier, more subtle. He swept the wetted pot in a circle around the tray - to wipe off the drips, he explained, and to move the leaves to the center of the pot. Then he poured one of the most flavorful teas I've ever tasted.

The staff at these teahouses is generally eager to impart knowledge, and I learned a fair amount while sipping (or slurping, as this waiter recommended). All kinds of tea, for example, come from one plant, the camellia sinensis. Differences in the soil, climate and topography of the growing regions, and in methods of harvesting and processing distinguish a Green Peony Rosette from a Lapsang souchong. And herbal teas are not technically tea, but rather infusions of herbs.

With the Old Bush, we ordered both the dim sum sampler ($6.50) and the snack sampler ($4). The dim sum included savory vegetarian steamed buns filled with chopped baby bok choy and shiitake mushrooms; subtly seasoned shrimp dumplings in glassy wraps; and delicately fried spring rolls, with shredded cabbage, carrot and coconut. The light snacks included ginger roasted almonds, flaky, short peanut cookies and lovely, green tea-dusted pumpkin seeds. Items can also be ordered individually ($2).

Tibetans call tea "the water of long life." Based on the number of people hoping to get a table at the Imperial Tea Court, it appears many are betting on it. A steady stream of customers strolled into the restaurant with cherry blossom branches wrapped in newspapers and red mesh sacks of oranges from the Farmers Market outside.

Elegant teapots, cups and tea paraphernalia, including many beautiful gong fu services, are for sale.
The New York Times | Allison Hoover Bartlett, June 13, 2004

A Grazer's Paradise
Ferry Building dishes up gourmet eats by the bay
Strolling down the promenade, most shoppers pass by the Imperial Tea Court with its traditional lanterns hanging between the pipes, ducts and tract lighting in an industrial grid overhead. People come in to buy one of the 150 teas on the list or to admire the sculptural-looking tea pots displayed behind the counter and around the Chinese-style hardwood tables, but sitting down for tea is a great escape from the bustle right outside the door. Order a pot of tea and the well-trained staff shows you how to properly prepare and drink it. You can also order a few snacks ($2) such as peanut cookies, ginger-roasted almonds or green tea walnuts and pumpkin seeds.

The small kitchen in back turns out Dragon Well dumplings ($6.50) made with pork, chives and green tea; adequate steamed dumplings ($2); and crisp and greaseless vegetarian spring rolls ($3). More substantial fare, generally about three choices, is posted each day on a bulletin board at the entrance. A recent selection included an intensely flavored vegetarian tofu curry ($9.50), served with a mound of rice and broccoli florets. The tofu is paired with a matching tea--an earthy Pu-erh that enhances the pungent spices and floral qualities in the curry. A slightly smoky organic "Everyday'' black tea pairs nicely with an organic pork stew with sweet potatoes in a rich soy-based sauce ($10).
SFGate.com | originally published: May 23, 2004

SF Weekly, Four Best Places to Chill Out
Imperial Tea Court (1411 Powell)
Despite its location near the bustling North Beach-Chinatown border, this quiet, wood-paneled venue is a thoroughly soothing getaway spot. The ceremonial manner in which the tea is served and sipped forces you to slow down, to relax, to let time pass unheeded. There are 32 varieties of tea to choose from, and you can replenish your cup at your leisure from a pot kept warm on a tableside hot plate. Several millennia of chill-out experience go into these restorative brews; there's no hurry, no hurry at all.
sfweekly.com | originally published: May 19, 2004

SFGate.com, San Francisco Neighborhoods Guide
Chinatown
Touting itself as the first traditional tea house in the country, Imperial Tea Court's founder Roy Fong is renowned throughout China and Taiwan for his tea expertise. Imperial Court is easily the most peaceful retreat in Chinatown, with presentation as important as the teas themselves. Selections include Topaz Puerh, Imperial White Peony with Rose, Snow Water Dragon Tips green tea, and the famous Chinese tea Organic Gunpowder.
SFGate.com | originally published: May 19, 2004

SF Weekly, Brewing Conversation
At a proper teahouse, tradition and communion are at least as important as the libation

A Daoist priest with an easy sense of humor, Roy Fong says tea was the last thing on his mind as a business when he, then a young teenager, and his family came to San Francisco from Hong Kong. Still, it seems that tea was never far from his thoughts, and eventually his proclivity and passion for it led him to set aside his import company and consider the value of tea leaves.

The Imperial Tea Court, located on the edge of Chinatown, is the only Chinese tearoom of its kind in the United States. It is rich in earth tones and strung with songbird cages; on Saturdays, the elder statesmen of the Chinese community come from as far as San Jose to partake in the tradition of "songbird tea" -- which involves gossip, news, and ostentatious display of their priceless pets. The Imperial Tea Court is a proper destination because of its proprietor. Fong has, in the grandest tradition of tea merchants, given his life and heart to tea. He oversees the production, manufacturing, shipping, and service of each leaf. Every aspect of the journey, from the ground in China to the cup in your hand, is infused by centuries of tradition. Even the teahouse itself is not as far from the source as it seems.

"We brought everything from China--the marble, the wood, the bamboo, the nails, even the glue. It took a full year just to get it open," Fong says, laughing at his seeming foolhardiness. But when it comes to tea, he is a man driven by unseen forces.

"With tea, I never feel like I am doing enough, you know?" he says, spinning a broad jade ring, meant to engender personal power and denote his exclusion from menial labor, on his finger. "But I'm not like that with anything else."

The comfortable and constant presence of his youngest daughter and wife suggest other focuses of attention, but there is no doubt that there is more to tea than refreshment for Fong. "Tea is a living thing to me," he says, pouring hot water over a small pot and three tiny teacups sitting in a bowl called a tea boat. "As with a person, you must take time to get to know the tea. Brewing tea is like a conversation."

Fong flushes water from the teacups into a second bowl and uses a small bamboo paddle to layer a strong oolong called Old Bush into the brewing pot.

"The five elements find harmony in tea. Wood is the plant; water grows the plant and makes the tea; fire heats the water and dries the tea leaves; earth makes the pot and grows the tea; and metal, which is the opposite of wood, is hidden in the clay, which helps the plant to grow."

Fong runs the bottom of the pot along the rim of the tea boat in a circular motion. In practical terms, this action releases pockets of water locked between leaves; in philosophical terms, it emphasizes the circle that is at the center of every tea ritual.

"The first steep, we do not drink," says Fong, pouring tea, which he allows us to smell but not to sip, into the water bowl (a vessel for undrunk tea). "First, we cleanse our minds. Now we start to feel our hearts. The tea is starting to release its aromatics, telling us the story of its life. There's a lot going on. There's a lot to discover in its smell."

The second steep is poured from the "fairness pot," a secondary vessel that ensures no one's tea steeps even a second longer than another's. We are invited to drink, slurping to aerate our palates.

"Now the tea is talking to you."

The drink is robust, notes of peach cut by a bitterness that touches lightly on every part of the tongue, with a floral undertone as complex as any wine. "Nowadays, people measure success by how fast they amass a fortune," says Fong, preparing a third brew. "But there is much more to life."

This second cup has fewer floral notes but is smoother, almost buttery. The finish is not as sharp, but lasts longer.

"When you brew tea you are bringing it back to life. There is a dialogue between you and the tea," explains Fong as we swirl and slurp our third cup. "You are learning about it, from it. This helps you enjoy the people with whom you are sharing tea. Sometimes the success of a tea ceremony can be measured by how little you talk--if you can achieve a oneness with your guest and begin to understand each other without words."

As our third cup settles, our conversation relaxes, turning to the Fongs' new enterprise at the Ferry Building and his daughter's boyfriend. Shotguns are mentioned, laughter is shared, and I begin to feel as if I've known Fong for a lifetime.
sfweekly.com | Silke Tudor, September 3, 2003

SF Weekly, Best of San Francisco 2002 Award
Best Tea House
The Imperial Tea Court is an oasis amid the cacophonous electronic crickets and elbowing crowds of Chinatown. Its calm grace envelops you as soon as you step through the door and survey the polished wood chairs, ornate bird cages, and red lanterns that adorn the room. The extraordinarily friendly waitstaff will hold your hand as you choose from a dizzying variety of over 60 teas -- green, white, black, oolong, puerh, and herbal infusions -- which are described on the tasting menu with the earnest vocabulary of connoisseurship: Jade Fire, for example, is "rich, full-bodied, and smooth, with a delicate hint of smokiness. Exceptionally flavorful and refined." The orchid and jasmine infusions taste almost as good as they smell, and all of the teas are so fresh that the leaves need to steep for only a minute or two in your delicate porcelain cup. Snacks include toasted almonds or tasty peanut cookies, both of which complement the teas nicely.
sfweekly.com | originally published: May 15, 2002

Board of Supervisors, City and County of San Francisco
Certificate of Honor - Best of San Francisco 2002 Award
To recognize the Imperial Tea House as San Francisco's finest fine tea establishment, known for its extraordinary variety of exotic and special blend teas, and to honor its achievement in winning the SF Weekly's annual "Best of San Francisco 2002" award, the Board of Supervisors extends its highest commendations.
July 1, 2002

Elle Magazine
Tea Time
For years we've been slathering on and guzzling down green tea, but it's the white tea we should've been paying attention to. Chemists at the Linus Pauling Institute at Oregon State University have found that rare Chinese white tea does an even better job of inhibiting DNA mutations (read: wrinkles) than the famed green leaves. The first beauty company to catch the white tea wave is Origins, who's new A Perfect World White Tea Skin Guardian retails for $30 an ounce (at origins.com). Skin Guardian, worn underneath moisturizer, claims to prevent environmental stress to the skin while increasing lipid production, thereby making skin smoother. Of course, you can still get the benefits of white tea the old fashioned way—by drinking it. Try Imperial Tea Court's Silver Needles or White Peony with Rose, both available at imperialtea.com.

The Washington Times,
Is the standard cup of Joe about to go the way of the buffalo? Thanks to the recent explosion of tony coffeehouses and bars, U.S. cities have been awash in caffeinated concoctions with Italianate names: lattes, machiatas, doppios and that old standby, cappuccino. But even with the newly minted Starbucks, Timothy's and Seattle Coffee Co. shops cropping up every day, there are signs that the specialty coffee craze has peaked.
Herbal teas and lapsang souchong are de rigeur in fine dining establishments. Companies such as Celestial Seasonings and Republic of Tea have become both household names and coveted stock interests.
Are American discovering the subtler pleasures of tea-drinking?
One approach to tea "steeped in ancient tradition" is taken at the Imperial Tea Court in San Francisco. During a decade of importing and selling exclusively to wholesalers, owner Roy Fong heard so many complaints from retailers about low-quality teas that he opened a showroom of superior Chinese teas, practically as a public service. It wasn"t long before he had a booming retail business on his hands.
"People were surprisingly interested in expensive teas," says Mr. Fong. His ultra popular "Monkey-Picked" oolong tea is priced at $180 per pound.
Mr. Fong began overseeing production of his teas in China to control the fermentation and roasting that give his teas their distinctive character. Today he owns several gardens in China and is involved in every facet of creating the delicious, supremely fresh teas served at the Imperial Tea Court. Built by Chinese artisans, this traditional tea house is the only one outside China that grows, processes and markets its own line of teas.
Mr. Fong compares cultivating a taste for fine teas to developing a palate for wines, and says the inferior, stale quality of commercial teas (they don't reach supermarkets for a year) has deprived Americans of tea's nuanced pleasures.
Lisa Katzman
February 1997
Forbes Magazine

How About a Nice $10 Cuppa Tea?
James Labe sits before a long wooden table in a large room free of distracting scents and sounds. In front of him rest a dozen glazed cups, filtered water and various vessels made of glass, clay and porcelain. A waste bucket waits on the side.
He takes a sip from a shot-glass-size cup and lets it rest in his mouth a bit. He allows the gold-colored liquid to coat the back of his throat and exhales slowly through his nose. "There are notes of cinnamon and berry," he pronounces. "And definitely an undertone of honey."
Nope. Not wine. Tea. Labe is tea sommelier at New York's W Hotel, and today we are tasting a rare brew from Taiwan called Bai Hao. It's a sweet, dark oolong with fruit and spice undertones, and the W sells it for $9 a pot.
Tea is the latest product to fall into the clutches of the connoisseurs, so get ready to sling around words like astringency (a desired characteristic, particularly for Darjeelings), bakey (not good; results from firing the leaves at too high a temperature) and malty (which describes the particular sweetness of a good Assam). Like wine, good tea has body, finish and bouquet.
It stands to reason that esthetes would ultimately get around to tea. It's nonalcoholic, and it has only about a quarter of the caffeine of coffee. Many also boast an array of cholesterol fighters and antioxidants, like polyphenols and vitamins C and E.
One other advantage over coffee: Tea can be served during the meal. Nothing new here. The French and the Chinese have been pairing tea with food for centuries. Now that the practice is becoming more common here, restaurant menus even suggest which teas go best with which dishes. An oversimplified rule of thumb: Green and oolong teas go better with lighter foods like fish, while black teas and darker oolongs complement richer, heavier foods like red meat and game. (And a service of Puerh tea, a specialty of China's southwestern Yunnan province, can't be beat as an aperitif after even the heaviest of meals.)...
All this is part of a natural progression, originating in the huge upsurge in overall tea consumption that has been under way for ten years. In the past decade U.S. tea consumption has quadrupled to $4 billion. The bulk of these sales -77%- is in black tea, the stuff found in supermarket tea bags, which is picked and "fermented", that is, oxidized, before being processed. "Unfermented", or green tea (21% of the market), is picked and quickly steamed or roasted. Then there's oolong tea -about 2%, but moving up fast- which is exposed to varying amounts of oxidation, resulting in intricate, complex flavors.
If you're figuring that tea snobbery doesn't come cheap, you're right. The good stuff can run you as much as $500 a pound (which will yield about 300 cups). At Imperial Tea Court in San Francisco, proprietor Roy Fong has a waiting list for $380-a-pound "Lotus Heart" Dragon Well green tea.
What makes tea worth $380 a pound? Rarity. Only 13 pounds of Fong's Lotus Heart came to market this year (and that, he says, was a bumper crop!). Tea is subject to the same vagaries of climate as grapes. The renowned Lotus Heart is grown on 100 acres in the famous West Lake area of China's Zhejiang province. It takes 30,000 perfect leaves to make a single pound of the stuff.
John McIntire, the former manager of the Greatful Dead, jets into San Francisco when he hears that a shipment of Lotus Heart has arrived. And just to make sure he won't miss it, he camps out on Roy Fong's doorstep so he'll be the first in line when the Imperial Tea Court opens in the morning.
Samantha Lee
December 11, 2000
Gourmet Magazine

Tea Time
From the civilized salon of the Ritz-Carlton to the luminous glass-domed Garden Court of the Palace, San Francisco hotels know how to cosset the tea drinker with a well-baked crumpet and a finely brewed cup of English tea. But tucked away in unexpected corners of the city are other rarefied tea experiences with a touch of the exotic, the eccentric, and the timeless...
The melodious warbles and trills that usually drift softly through the tranquil Imperial Tea Court can swell to a full-throated chorus on a Saturday, the favorite time for Chinese to socialize over tea and to admire one another's prized caged finches, which sing their hearts out overhead. This is the city's transcendent tea experience, a traditional Chinese tea house specializing exclusively in rare and estate teas from mainland China - to buy by the ounce or drink by the cup. As you admire the beautiful marble and rosewood-paneled interior, the staff expertly introduce you to what proprietor and tea master Roy Fong calls "the Chinese art of tea".
At each table an electric tea kettle heats purified water to the proper temperature, which is well below boiling for many Chinese teas. The tea leaves of your choice are brought in gaiwan, the traditional porcelain covered cups and saucers that you learn to hold and sip with one hand. The first cup of water poured loosens the leaves and releases the aromas before being discarded. Subsequent cups bring out the tea's delicate nuances - the incomparable woodsy flavor of a fully fermented Yunnan Puerh tea, a subtle, floral character to , the traditional porcelain covered cups and saucers that you learn to hold and sip with one hand. The first cup of water poured loosens the leaves and releases the aromas before being discarded. Subsequent cups bring out the tea's delicate nuances - the incomparable woodsy flavor of a fully fermented Yunnan Puerh tea, a subtle, floral character to Yinzhen "Silver Needles", an exotic white tea made from whole leaf buds. Those who wish to learn more about the Chinese way of tea should inquire about tea tastings and classes conducted throughout the year.
March 1997
Seattle Magazine

True Brew
If you are looking for the latest trend on the Seattle beverage horizon, look no further than the humble tea leaf. Sure, the way of tea has been around since before the Ming dynasty, and it is repeatedly touted as the world's most popular drink, but in our infatuation with espresso, oolong, green and black teas have been neglected hereabouts. At least until now.
The opening of the Imperial Tea Court launches Seattle firmly into the center of the American tea trend. Located in the Great Wall Shopping Mall (which opened officially in late August on the Kent/Renton border), the Imperial Tea Court is San Francisco tea master Roy Fong's second tea house.
The opportunity to drink tea with a master (and check out the mall) is worth the trip.
Lisa Wogan
September 1999
Sunset Magazine

Sipping Monkey-Picked Tea
One minute you're strolling down Powell Street, a relatively uncrowded shopping district in San Francisco's Chinatown, passing beauty salons and small groceries, and the next you've entered another world, inside Roy and Grace Fong's Imperial Tea Court. The minute you set foot in this quaint shop, you have the feeling that at any moment Sidney Greenstreet or Peter Lorre, protagonists in all those exotic 1930s films, will emerge from the back room and offer you a cup of vibrantly perfumed jasmine tea.
Well, there are no movie stars at the Imperial Tea Court, but Grace and Roy Fong sell more than 60 kinds of rare and fine teas from all over China. One jasmine tea they feature is processed by adding fresh jasmine flowers to green tea leaves at intervals for a total of eight times. The perfume is so intense that you might consider wearing a little behind your ear.
The large shop is an open square room; one side houses books on tea, one-of-a-kind teapots and utensils, and large shiny tin containers filled with tea. Across from the sales counter, a half dozen dark wood tables and chairs line the other side of the lantern-bedecked room. Wooden signs call attention in Chinese to the very best teas in the store, so that savvy tasters know what to order.
When the store opened in 1993, the Fongs' clientele was mostly Asian, but that has changed by their education of others in the Chinese way of tea, a form of relaxation that's also an adventure for the taste buds. Visitors may enjoy a tea tasting for $3 per selection or $5 for the "Kung Fu" style, a small pot of the most expensive variety. One special tea to try, "Monkey-Picked", is from Fujian, a province in southeastern China long considered the birthplace of oolong tea. Monkey-Picked got its name in the early in the 19th century, when monkeys were trained to pick the tea on the steep cliffs of the Wu Yi Mountains. Roads have since been built, and humans have put the monkeys out of work. (As with all fine teas, only the upper, tender leaves are plucked, which is why Monkey-Picked commands $180 a pound.)
Here's how a tasting works. Owner Grace Fong fires up the tableside electric water kettle and then warms three fragile porcelain cups, including the covered cup in which the tea will brew, called a gaiwan. On top of the table, a low, circular metal drum that is perforated on top receives leftover tea or water. A tiny amount of Monkey-Picked is put into the brewing cup, and boiling water is added. This pour will be discarded, because it is used to "flush" the tea or wake up the flavor, and remove any tea dust. The hot water is poured again, and suddenly the scent of soft rain on hay fills the air. Drinking a special tea in this manner is like tasting a fine wine: look at the color, smell the brew, then sip the crisp, dry, slightly smoky flavors, rolling the tea over your palate.
Grace says that traditionally, a robust black tea would be drunk after dinner, while a light green or jasmine tea would be served in the morning or afternoon. She also explains that delicate green teas should be brewed with water that has just reached 160 degrees, while black tea should be brewed with water that has come to a full boil.
Imperial Tea Court is located at 1411 Powell Street (at Broadway). It is open 11 to 6:30 daily.
GraceAnn Walden
January 1995


San Francisco Magazine

It's not far-fetched to say that in the United States, tea is going the way of wine. Finish your dinner and you not only get a desert menu , you get a long list of provocative adjectives "haunting", "hints of chestnut", "rosy aroma". Some restaurants have even hired their own full-time tea sommeliers".
In the Bay Area, the Republic of Tea, the high-end tea packager based in Novato, decided to create the "Opus One" of tea, so special that it has produced only 600 hand-numbered tins. Naturally, to do this it paired up with one of San Francisco's most re-nowned tea experts, Roy Fong, proprietor of Chinatown's world famous Imperial Tea Court. Fong went to China in search of the best, and the result is six distinctive Chinese teas, sold in beautiful canisters labeled "Imperial Republic".
Included are delicately scented Jasmine Pearls, hand-rolled leaves that unfurl in your cup; Iron Goddess, an oolong (a partially fermented tea) with honey notes; and from Yunnan province, Puerh, noted for its digestive qualities, with a nose of roasted seaweed. With prices ranging from $25 to $40, we're not talking Lipton, but the leaves of these fine teas won't get bitter, and one cup's worth of oolong can be steeped again and again and again.
Sara Deseran
March 2000

Seattle Times

It's still a lovely one-word question: "Tea?"
For all the caffeinated hype around here, where convoluted orders like double-tall, extra hot, nonfat with a shot of mango-tulip flavoring are the norm, we still experience a certain lift of the heart when someone asks us to pause and join them for a nice cuppa tea.
And, with apologies to chai drinkers and aficionados of sweetened, bottled things with "tea" in the name . . . we're thinking serious tea here, served up by someone who knows and loves the stuff.
Oh, you might think that in these coffee-clogged times, you'll be hard-pressed to find a handy tea establishment. But not to worry; there is surely a tearoom near you. Too many to list them all, in fact. Instead we offer a sampling of all manner of places - from the simple to the elegant - that nicely feed the need for that certain serenity, found only in a teacup.
Tea as it was meant to be
Flanked by Asian groceries and herb sellers in the Great Wall Shopping Mall, the new Imperial Tea Court serves its wares with deliberate ceremony and calm.
The Chinese tea rituals demonstrated here are thousands of years removed from what most of us consider tea-making - dunking a cheap tea bag into any old ceramic coffee mug.
Still, the rules of this ritual might not be exactly what you'd expect. "It is perfectly acceptable - even preferable - to slurp your tea," says regional manager Justin Burke, explaining that a good loud slurp actually helps maximize the opportunity to taste the drink.
As my companions and I slurp enthusiastically, Burke repeats his demonstration, showing the proper way to heat the unglazed clay Yixing teapot with hot, purified water. He then warms up the white ceramic pitchers, "smelling cups" and tiny bowls from which we will drink our Monkey-Picked Tie Guan Yin oolong tea. (No, monkeys no longer pick the stuff. But the name sounds so cool that it stuck.)
The point of the Chinese ritual, while less formal than the more prolonged ceremonial Japanese tea-making, is still to savor the fine tea, first enjoying the rich, almost haunting scent, then slowly tasting the briefly steeped brew. The quality of the tea leaves is so high that a seemingly endless number of the tiny cups can be made from the same pot.
This is not only a relaxing experience, it's a bargain: By the time our $5 per person tea ceremony ends, the three of us have used about an ounce of the special oolong, which sells for about $180 a pound.
The well-appointed Kent store, which held its grand opening last month, sells a variety of tea-making accessories and about 50 types of tea - including some extremely rare varieties. It is owned by Roy and Grace Fong, who also own the Imperial Tea Court on San Francisco's Powell Street.
The Imperial Tea Court is located in the Great Wall Shopping Mall, 18230 E. Valley Highway in Kent, 425-251-8191. Best to make reservations for groups, or to use the small private tearoom.
Web site: www.imperialtea.com (click on "Classroom" for interesting history lessons on Chinese tea rituals.)
Kimberly B. Marlowe
September 08, 1999