Jiuqu Hongmei black tea is a tightly curled, hook-shaped black tea from the hills west of Hangzhou in Zhejiang province — the same "Longjing country" celebrated for its green tea, quietly making a red one too. Its poetic name, "Nine-Bend Red Plum," captures both the coiled, plum-bud shape of the dry leaf and a sweet aroma often compared to red-plum blossom, ripe plum, and dried longan.
What is Jiuqu Hongmei black tea?
Jiuqu Hongmei black tea (九曲红梅) is a small-batch, fully oxidized black tea grown near the Qiantang River in the Dawu mountain area of Xihu (West Lake) District, just west of Hangzhou. It is widely regarded as Zhejiang's signature black tea — a notable distinction in a province otherwise defined by pan-fired green teas like Longjing. What sets it apart on sight is the leaf: instead of the flat, sword-like blade of a green tea, Jiuqu Hongmei is rolled into slender, dark, fish-hook curls flecked with golden down. In the cup it pours a bright reddish-amber with a golden rim, tasting of stewed plum, honey, and dried apricot, with very little of the tannic bite associated with stronger commercial blacks.
Because it comes from the same terroir and, in many cases, the same cultivars used for Hangzhou's famous green tea, Jiuqu Hongmei is sometimes described as a "Longjing black." That framing is useful shorthand, but the resemblance stops at geography and leaf stock — the processing, and therefore the flavor, belongs firmly to the world of black tea. If you are new to the category, our overview of what black tea is lays out how oxidation transforms the same leaf into an entirely different drink.
The name: "Nine-Bend Red Plum"
The name rewards a little unpacking. "Jiuqu" (九曲) means "nine bends." Most accounts read it as a direct reference to the Nine-Bend Stream (Jiuqu Xi) that winds through the Wuyi Mountains in neighboring Fujian — the ancestral home of the growers traditionally said to have first made this tea. Some sources instead trace the phrase to the winding, terraced hills where the leaves grow. "Hongmei" (红梅) means "red plum." Together they read as "Red Plum of the Nine Bends," a name that layers the tea's origin story onto its sensory character.
Two features earn the "red plum" half. The first is visual: the dry leaf, coiled and slightly winged, is often said to resemble a plum-blossom bud about to open. The second is aromatic — a warm, fruity-floral scent that tasters liken to red-plum blossom and ripe plum, echoed by the plum-red color of the brewed liquor. It is one of those Chinese tea names where poetry and description are the same thing, a habit it shares with curled green teas such as Biluochun, whose "green snail spring" name is likewise a portrait of the leaf.
Terroir: a black tea from Longjing country
Jiuqu Hongmei's heartland is Zhoupu — a historic tea district now part of Shuangpu town in the Xihu District, southwest of central Hangzhou — spread across small villages tucked into the Dawu mountains near the Qiantang River, with the best leaf traditionally coming from Dawushan around the village of Hubu. This is the western edge of the same misty, tea-friendly landscape that produces Hangzhou's world-famous green tea — cool, humid, and shrouded in river fog for much of the growing season.
That shared geography is central to the tea's identity. Hangzhou is overwhelmingly associated with green tea, and Zhejiang produces relatively little black tea overall, which makes Jiuqu Hongmei something of a local curiosity: the region's one celebrated red tea, grown a short drive from bushes destined to become pan-fired greens. It is worth stressing a common point of confusion — the "Nine-Bend" in the name evokes Wuyi's famous stream in Fujian, but the tea itself is thoroughly Zhejiangnese. The Wuyi reference is a nod to heritage, not to where the leaves grow today. For the Fujian side of that story, see our guide to Wuyi rock tea and its cliff-grown oolongs.
A history carried north from Wuyi
Jiuqu Hongmei is generally credited with roughly 150 to 200 years of history, and is usually dated to the Qing-dynasty Tongzhi era of the mid-to-late nineteenth century. Its origin is traditionally tied to migration: during the upheavals surrounding the Taiping Rebellion, tea farmers from northern Fujian, near the Wuyi Mountains, are said to have moved north into Zhejiang, settling in the Dawu basin to farm grain and tea. Some of these growers already knew how to make black tea, a Fujian specialty, and they applied that skill to the local leaf.
According to the traditional account, they named their black tea after the place they had left behind — the Nine-Bend Stream of Wuyi — giving rise to "Jiuqu Hongmei." Hangzhou tea houses began carrying the result, and a small regional industry took root. The tea's reputation is often dated to its early-twentieth-century showings: it is traditionally said to have won a gold medal at the 1915 Panama–Pacific International Exposition in San Francisco, and its making craft was later inscribed on Zhejiang's provincial intangible-cultural-heritage list. It is also frequently cited as having been served at the 2016 G20 summit hosted in Hangzhou. As with many tea histories, exact dates should be treated as tradition rather than documented certainty, but the broad arc — a Fujian black-tea craft transplanted into green-tea country — is consistent across sources. That Fujian–Zhejiang exchange also explains why Jiuqu Hongmei sits comfortably alongside classic Chinese blacks like Yunnan's Dian Hong in the broader hong cha family.
The cultivar and the hooked leaf
Most Jiuqu Hongmei is made from small- and medium-leaf shrub-type Camellia sinensis var. sinensis bushes — often the local Longjing heirloom (qunti) population or the widely planted Longjing #43 clone, the very cultivars behind Hangzhou's green tea. This is a different leaf stock from the large-leaf assamica varieties used for many bolder, maltier blacks, and it helps explain Jiuqu Hongmei's gentler, more aromatic personality.
Picking is fine and early: typically one bud with one or two young leaves, harvested in spring. After processing, the finished leaf is unmistakable — thin, tightly wound strips that curl like a fish-hook, matte-dark in color and dusted with the golden tips prized in high-grade black tea. Individual buds run only around a centimeter long. It is this coiling, more than the color, that gives the tea its "red plum bud" look and distinguishes it at a glance from the straight, twisted styles of many other Chinese blacks.
How Jiuqu Hongmei is made
Jiuqu Hongmei follows the classic four-step arc of Chinese gongfu (fine, strip-style) black tea, executed largely by hand for premium lots. The sequence is what turns fresh green leaf into a fully oxidized red tea.
| Step | What happens | Typical duration |
|---|---|---|
| Withering | Fresh leaf is spread to soften and lose moisture, making it pliable for rolling and priming it for oxidation. | 12+ hours |
| Rolling | Leaves are twisted and curled into tight strips, rupturing cell walls so juices and enzymes are released — the step that creates the signature hooked shape. | 60–90 minutes |
| Oxidation ("fermentation") | Rolled leaf rests warm and humid so polyphenols oxidize, developing black tea's red color, honeyed sweetness, and reduced astringency. | 2–4 hours |
| Drying | Two-phase firing — a hot initial bake to arrest oxidation, then a low, slow finish to lock in aroma and stabilize the leaf. | Multiple stages |
The relatively long, controlled oxidation is a big part of why Jiuqu Hongmei drinks softly rather than briskly. Some producers also make a scented version, layering the finished black tea with fresh osmanthus blossoms in autumn to add an apricot-like floral top note — a specialty style rather than the classic profile. If you want to see how oxidation choices differentiate whole tea categories, our primer on the types of tea maps green, oolong, black, and beyond onto a single spectrum.
Flavor: ripe plum, longan, and honey
A well-made Jiuqu Hongmei is defined by sweetness and low astringency. The dominant descriptors are ripe or stewed plum, dried longan, honey, and dried apricot, wrapped in a soft red-plum-blossom fragrance. Because the base leaf is a delicate sinensis cultivar and the oxidation is thorough, the cup tends to feel round and mellow rather than brisk or drying — closer in temperament to a gentle, fruity black than to a robust breakfast style.
Secondary notes vary by lot and steeping: lighter infusions can show a bright, almost citric plum acidity and a touch of crisp apple, while warmer, longer steeps coax out bakery-adjacent nuances of cocoa, malt, and cinnamon. The liquor is a clear reddish-amber, frequently described with a luminous golden ring at the edge of the cup. Compared with the deep, wine-like Keemun or the malt-and-cocoa weight of many other regional blacks, Jiuqu Hongmei reads lighter, fruitier, and more floral — a black tea for green-tea drinkers.
How to brew Jiuqu Hongmei black tea
Because it is made from tender leaf, Jiuqu Hongmei rewards slightly cooler water than a heavy assamica black — around 90°C (195°F) is a safe ceiling, though many drinkers push toward near-boiling for gongfu sessions. Its natural sweetness means it forgives a range of styles, but overly long, very hot steeps can flatten its delicate plum aroma.
| Method | Leaf-to-water | Water temp | Steep time | Infusions |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Western / mug | 2–3 g per 250 ml | 90–95°C (195–203°F) | 1–2 minutes | 2–3 |
| Gongfu / gaiwan | 5–7 g per 120 ml | 90–95°C (195–203°F) | 10–30 s, rising | 5+ |
For the gongfu approach, a quick rinse and short first steeps let you watch the plum-and-honey character build and then gently fade across infusions. The tea takes milk poorly compared with a bracing black — its charm lies in the aromatics, which milk mutes — so most drinkers take it plain. Serve it as an afternoon tea where its fruit-forward sweetness stands on its own.
Caffeine and wellness notes
As a fully oxidized black tea, Jiuqu Hongmei contains a moderate amount of caffeine — broadly in the range of other black teas, and influenced by leaf grade, brewing time, and water temperature. Its high proportion of tender buds can lift caffeine somewhat, while its gentle small-leaf character keeps the overall cup from feeling harsh. As a rough guide, a standard cup delivers less caffeine than brewed coffee but enough to be noticeable; sensitive drinkers may prefer it earlier in the day.
Like other true teas, Jiuqu Hongmei naturally contains polyphenols and the amino acid L-theanine, and black tea consumption is broadly associated with everyday hydration and enjoyment. It is best understood as a pleasurable drink rather than a remedy — health claims around specific cures or weight loss are not supported, and anyone managing caffeine intake or a medical condition should consult a qualified professional. Enjoyed for what it is, Jiuqu Hongmei offers one of the more approachable, dessert-like corners of the Chinese black tea world — a fragrant reminder that even the greenest tea country can bend, over roughly a century and a half, into something warm and red.