Spilling the Tea on Camellia Sinensis
First published in the December 2024 Grapevine, the newsletter for Yamhill County Master Gardeners
Imagine frost chilled hands wrapped around and warmed by a favorite mug. Steam filters the view of the winter garden. At first it further dulls the December landscape. But through this foggy lens water droplets sparkle. They are not icy crystals but little white chandelier flowers filled with cascading, golden-nectar lights. A hummingbird quickly confirms the sight is not just filaments of the imagination.
Camellia sinensis shrubs and small trees are a winter garden party. A delicate, flowering surprise full of life-giving warmth. The soft-green stained liquid in our mugs comes from the glossy leaves. And the thrilling news is that the tea sipped in our backyards could be our very own backyard tea.
Camellia sinensis (var sinensis in particular) is the mother plant of all tea. The leaves, leaf buds, and flower buds are the source for green, black, and white varieties. The evergreen is sun-loving, acidic soil craving, and hardy to zone 6. Your oolong dreams could be a reali-tea!
When first planning my sunny herb gardens, I pictured myself sitting in an adirondack. I would be immersed in the sweet and spicy scents. Surrounded by the buzzy sounds of the pollinators. It would be an all-in, relaxing vibe.
But as the herbs thrived I could no longer stand by and not “do something” with them. I popped the heads off the chamomile and dried the mint leaves and lavender buds. The backyard herbal tea bug had bit. And I quickly wanted to explore “real” tea.
It helps that no anthophile could resist a fall/winter flowering shrub that is a boost to the garden, the gardener, and garden friends. The leaves and buds of Camellia sinensis perk up the winter views. I now sit in my herb garden all year long. I highly recommend a chiminea to keep warm and burning dried herb sprigs like incense in the cold sunshine.
The tea leaves also perk people up with that lovely caffeine. And the tea flowers deliver much-needed energy carbohydrates to pollinators. Anna’s hummingbirds have adapted to be year-round residents. True they supplement their diet with insects in winter – hence the ants and mosquitos deposited and floating in my feeders. But flowers are Anna’s preferred dish.
A Sip of Tea History
Camellia sinensis is indigenous to south China. Legend has it that Emperor Shen Nong, a skilled ruler and renowned herbalist, accidentally discovered tea in 2737 B.C.E. While boiling water in the garden, a leaf drifted into the emperor’s pot. The infused amber water was declared pretty wonderful and tea was quickly incorporated into Chinese medicine.
Sometime in the third or fourth century A.D., tea leaves steeped in hot water became a part of the Buddhist religious practices. Tea elevated the meditation experience by stimulating the mind while enhancing a state of contemplative calm.
The first European writings on tea began not until the 1560s, when exports began by both Dutch and British traders. Tea famously played a vital role in the establishment of our nation. A revolution brewed from the passing of the Tea Act and the Boston Tea Party. A tempest in a teapot for sure, yet no one thought to grow the coveted Camellia sinensis until hundreds of years later.
It wasn’t until 1987 that Charleston Tea Plantation in South Carolina began growing tea. It was the sole commercial tea grower in the nation for a long time. Though almost simultaneously in 1988, an experimental half acre of Camellia sinensis popped up in Oregon. At the time the farmers were just hopeful that the tea plants might survive. To their great surprise, the shrubs not only survived, they thrived. Minton Island Tea Company in Salem now calls it the beginning of the “Oregon tea movement.”
Harvesting and Growing Backyard Tea
My first search for tea plants was a failure at my usual nurseries. So much Camellia sasanqua and japonica but not sinensis. The growers seemed surprised by my surprise. I eventually turned to ordering two plants online and later found a more respectable specimen at Portland Nursery. In the second year, the plant sizes are evening out. But only the local purchase is blooming. It had just enough new growth for my first cuppa backyard tea.
The art of hand-harvesting tea is an artisanal practice beginning with the first flush of new growth in spring. A rule of thumb is to pluck the last two leaves and a leaf bud. Then return a few weeks later for a continuous harvest through summer.
Smaller young leaves and leaf buds are used for making green tea, the older larger leaves for oolong and black tea, and the fall flower buds for white tea. My small harvest was left to whither overnight, rolled to lightly oxidize, then dried in the oven at 200 degrees for 20 minutes. The oolong-style result was fragrant and lovely.
Camellia sinensis can be both a tree (as tall as 49 ft!) or a more typical hedge shrub. For optimal tea production, prune to 4-5 feet just before spring growth to encourage shoots. If you are regularly harvesting the leaves, you will likely be removing the stem tips or buds before the plant flowers. I plan to be less aggressive with mine as it is important to me to enjoy and share the blooms come winter.
The plants are reported to be mostly trouble free. A few fungal leaf spot sightings have popped up in Oregon and Washington, but only on stressed or sunburned plants. Deer appear not to fancy the tea plants, but voles and soggy soil can harm the roots.
It’s now clear that three plants will not suffice to accomplish both my winter garden retreat and backyard tea aspirations. To grow my collection I can propagate with softwood cuttings this spring. Bottom watering and heat is recommended for successful root development.
Propagating means an agonizing three years to harvesting. That’s a long wait for tea time. So I may hasten things along with a trip to Minton Island’s farm stand this April. They sell plants grown from seeds gathered in their 30-year-old tea garden. A few headstart plants – or five or twenty – seems a necessi-tea.
