In Diantou, in Fuding, a tea farmer's house usually has three jars on the shelf: new tea, aged tea, old tea. One leaf, three states of time, three ways of drinking.
New tea (within a year) is fresh and delicate, highest in amino acids, best for everyday drinking — keep the water temperature down. Aged tea (three to five years) has begun to transform, its polyphenols and amino acids recombining, the mouthfeel turning from clear to smooth and the body sensation warming: the most comfortable thing to drink in autumn and winter. Old tea (seven years and up) has accumulated flavonoids and its flavour turns deep; old tea drinkers treat it as a medicine, boiling a pot at the first sign of a cold, and nothing goes down more easily.
Prices follow the same three tiers. So before buying white tea, decide whether you want to drink freshness or store time — and if you want to store it, accept that it will occupy your cupboard for three to five years.
When we take guests to Fuding, the thing we do most often is move between those three jars, tasting how one leaf looks at different ages. Once you have been through them you will never ask again why white tea gets more expensive the longer it is kept.
Storing white tea follows one plain rule: sealed, away from light, no foreign odours, and no sharp swings in temperature. A ceramic jar or a foil pouch will do — but do not leave it in a clear glass jar on a windowsill, which is simply sun-damaging the tea. And white tea is not better the older it gets: three to seven years is the stretch most people find most comfortable.