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跟黄金一样贵的「大便」
虫粪茶，或称龙珠茶I can honestly say that this is the best shit I've ever tasted in my life..
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跟黄金一样贵的「大便」 你要来一口吗？
来源：Austin Yoder 2013/08/16 发表于 The News Lens 关键评论网
Photo Credit: 陈镜 CHEN-CHING 翻译／红凯利
在我眼前是一杯令人不敢恭维的茶，但我现在却得硬着头皮喝下它。印入我眼帘的是一颗颗未溶解完全的黑色颗粒，就好像是用冷水冲泡的速溶咖啡粉一般。不同之处在于，这些黑色颗粒可是大有来头，一盎司价钱媲美一盎司黄金。没错，这杯茶就是知名的「虫粪茶」，或称「龙珠茶」，别怀疑，前面所提一粒粒黑色颗粒便是虫子的粪便。
与台湾第三代制茶大师高阙胜夫一起在茶屋里制茶、品茶的一切皆历历在目。听的是中国传统丝竹音乐，看的是一幅幅由台湾书法家拓印的书法作品，以及刚从外头山丘所摘的小白花所摆放而成的装饰。对我而言，整体环境充满中国的艺术与文化感，根本无法联想这是一个品茗的地点，尤其是品所谓的「虫粪茶」。
只见高阙胜夫缓缓地将山泉水倒入茶杯中，并投入数粒虫茶，当虫茶碰到微温山泉水的瞬间，只见茶粒飘于水面，继而徐徐释放如血丝一般的细纹盘旋于水中，最后如飞絮般缓缓散落至杯底。颜色变化更是视觉上的一大效果，从最初无色透明、渐转成青褐色，之后颜色越来越黑，就跟……痾……「那个」一样黑，你们知道我在说什么吧？
这是我和虫粪茶的初次碰面。
说到虫粪茶，最重要的当然是「虫」，养虫人会将幼虫放在潮湿的茶叶堆里生长，从进食到排泄都在同一处茶叶堆进行。大概两周过后，茶叶堆已经不仅仅是茶叶，而是一堆虫和排泄物。但这些虫和排泄物却已经转化成另外一种形式的「茶叶」；仔细的闻，窜入鼻中又像是鸡汤又像中药，并且混合着一丝树皮和蛋白质的味道。有点像是河岸岩石、潮湿的花岗岩还有一些肉类的味道。
当我们在聊天时，茶香已经弥漫了整间茶屋。每呼吸一口，都感受到不同的清香，和普通茶叶所泡成的茶香真的很不同。
「那价钱呢？」我问。
「当然不便宜啦！」他说。
从这两句话中，我真的觉得台湾的制茶职人都是十分好客以及谦虚的人。以高阙胜夫来说，他拿出顶级茶叶请我品尝，但是却又不希望我因此感到不好意思，甚至过度轻描淡写茶本身的价值。但我真的很好奇，这样到底代表了什么呢？说真的，因为对其价格多少有些了解，我真的喝不下去！太贵重了！但高阙胜夫一直盯着我，似乎期盼我可以将这杯茶喝下去。不要在意价格，靠自己的舌尖和味蕾去感受这杯茶所带来的全新感受。眼见我仍然迟疑着，高阙胜夫说：「如果你坚持要知道虫粪茶的实际价格，那我就告诉你，和一盎司黄金差不多吧。」
我仍犹疑。对我而言，高阙胜夫不仅仅教我如何品茗，更是我人生中的一位重要贵人。要不是因为他，即使知道虫粪茶的价值，又装在美丽的瓷杯，我也不会主动尝试。
这时，高阙胜夫又开口了。
「你知道印度尼西亚的麝香咖啡吧？麝香猫好食咖啡果实，吃下肚后，消化系统会分解外表的果肉，不过当其中坚硬的咖啡豆无法被消化，就会原封不动地被排出。印度尼西亚人将麝香猫排泄出的咖啡豆加以收集、晒干、清洗、脱壳、挑选、烘培，世界上最贵的麝香咖啡就是这么制作而成。而虫粪茶制作原理是相同的，只是这些虫所食的是茶而非咖啡果实。但是虫粪茶会如此昂贵的原因，主要是因为辛苦的农人要花上无数时间，利用放大镜及镊子仔细挑出可用的部分，而这是机器无法取代的人工。」
我举起茶杯到唇边，准备慢慢啜饮就像是一个红酒品酒大师第一次要品尝稀有的黑皮诺红酒一样。我坐在高阙胜夫师傅的茶屋，想象有四只活生生巨大的虫子要从我嘴巴里面爬出来。
细饮
啜饮
呼
我从脏腑深处呼出一口气。中药味立刻充满我的鼻腔，有点像是你闻了薄荷油然后你整个前额都满是那个味道。
味道闻起来非常真实，湿润的花岗岩，还有一点其他的味道，更有活力。它喝起来完全没有粪便的味道，但是的确有水果成熟的圆润感。
没有虫子从我嘴巴中爬出来。喝完整杯的虫粪浸泡过的茶之后我也没有起火烧起来。
我又喝了一大口，我甚至开始爱上它了。它不是我会每天想喝的东西，但如果我有鼻窦炎或是刚从外面盖了一个雪屋回来冷到不行的话，这玩意就正是所需。
我可以老实说这是我人生中尝过最棒的大便了。
SITTING IN FRONT OF ME was a serving of bug feces. And I was going to drink it up. I had to drink it, really. I had no choice anymore. The little pellets were dry, and didn't clump together. Like dry kitty litter in your favorite coffee mug.
Tiny black shits collected together as a delicacy, an extreme rarity: "Bug Shit Tea" is valued on par with gold, ounce per ounce.
Master Gao Que, a third generation Taiwanese tea master, poured a long, steaming stream of mountain spring water into the cup to begin the brew. As soon as the boiling mountain water hit the "tea", an organic, gamey scent jumped up and latched onto the insides of my nostrils. The water picked up the little poopies, swirled them around like dirty little whirling dervishes, spinning, spinning, settling down onto the bottom of the tea bowl.
And then it just sat there. Brewing.
The color of the tea went from clear, to deep blood amber, all the way to black. As black as, well…
"The bugs never live anywhere else for their whole lives. The farmers put them into a big pile of wet tea leaves right after they are born, and let them live in a corner. And they live, breath, eat, and shit that single pile of tea, and nothing else, until they're ready to morph into the next stage of their lives. Like a butterfly."
Classical Chinese zither music was playing in the background. Eloquent high-brow poetry hung on the walls, transcribed by some of the finest calligraphers in Taiwan. A lily-white flower arrangement, collected from the hills directly outside of Master Gao Que's teahouse, was definitely not having the intended effect of zen-tranquility upon my mind. Looking down at the broad mahogany tea table in front of me, surrounded by an atmosphere of culture, literature, and serenity, I couldn't help but gag.
"After about two weeks, the farmers come back to the pile of wet tea leaves. By that time, the bugs have metabolized most of the tea. So it's no longer a pile of tea leaves, but a pile of bugs and da bian. Droppings."
You have to smell tea deeply in order to taste it fully. I leaned down for a deep inhale: Chinese medicine, and chicken stock. Tree bark, and protein. River-rocks, like wet granite, and a certain meatiness.
"And how expensive is it, again?" I asked.
"It's not cheap." Master Gao Que said. It has always been my experience that Taiwanese tea masters are extremely hospitable, and humble people. He was treating me to something special, so he didn't want me to feel indebted, or like I owed him any money. He was trying to downplay the significance of his gift to me.
I couldn't help myself, and had to clarify. "But what does that mean? I'm just curious."
The taste was remarkably true to the nose. Wet granite, and something else. Something else a little more alive.
Master Gao Que stared back at me, still wanting me to taste the Bug Shit tea without regard to the price. Sometimes knowing the price of an expensive tea or a wine can bias you positively against it, and Master Gao Que wanted me to rely on my tongue, and my tongue alone.
A twang from the Zither music playing in the background.
"Well, if you must know, it's valued on par with gold, ounce per ounce."
I've known Master Gao Que for almost four years now, and he's like an uncle to me. A mentor in all things tea, and life. He was serving me up the distilled essence of a unique experience here, right on a silver platter. If he hadn't gone out of his way to treat me to this experience, I wouldn't have been drinking Bug Shit out of a porcelain bowl. Even bug shit that costs as much as gold.
"It's sort of like Kopi Luwak, the civet cat poop coffee from Indonesia," The Master volunteered, obviously sensing some hesitation from me. "You know that one, right? It's the one where the cats eat the coffee berries off of the bush. When they shit the berries out, the farmers go around and pick up the cat excrement, wash it off, and roast it just like it was normal coffee.
"It's like that. But with bugs eating tea instead of cats eating coffee berries. The farmers making the Bug Shit Tea go in with something like a magnifying glass and a pair of tweezers. They remove the bugs from the droppings, pick the shit-pellets up one by one with the tweezers, and that's why it's so expensive. It's more time and labor intensive than any other kind of tea."
I put the poop-soup up to my lips, and slurped it up like a Master Sommelier tasting a rare Pinot Noir for the first time. I was sitting in Master Gao Que's teahouse imagining four large, live Australian Witchiti Grubs crawling out of my mouth on all sides.
Sip..
Slurp…
Burp.
I exhaled a big, deep breath up from my gut, and through the back of my throat. Chinese medicine flavors shot up through my nasal cavities, sort of like when you smell Vicks Vaporub and it fills up your entire forehead.
The taste was remarkably true to the nose. Wet granite, and something else. Something else a little more alive, a little more of its origin. It didn't actually taste like excrement, but it had a decidedly mellow twang to it.
No Witchiti Grubs crawled out of my mouth. I didn't spontaneously combust after drinking a bowl full of steeped insect feces.
I took another big slurp. It was even growing on me. It's not something I'd want to drink every day, but if I had a sinus infection, or had just come back in from building a snow fort, it would really hit the spot.
I can honestly say that this is the best shit I've ever tasted in my life.
Sourse：Austin Yoder 2013/08/16 The News Lens
Photo Credit: CHEN-CHING 陈镜