Kabusecha
Lightly covered. Bright and grassy with a sweet finish. The easy daily cup.
Every leaf we sell spends its last weeks before harvest under a woven canopy. Scroll to step into the shade.
In late April, growers draw straw and black cloth over the bushes. The plants reach for sun that never comes, and the young leaves turn soft, thin and deep green.
Without sunlight, the leaf stops turning its L-theanine into bitter catechins. That amino acid stays in the cup as a savory, brothy sweetness the Japanese call umami.
Only the top two leaves and a bud are picked, steamed within hours, and rolled. What reaches you is a tea that spent its whole life hiding.
The longer a bush stays covered, the sweeter and greener the leaf. The bar under each tea shows how many of the 20 shading days it received.
Lightly covered. Bright and grassy with a sweet finish. The easy daily cup.
Our flagship. Thick and savory, almost like broth, with notes of seaweed and sweet pea.
Shaded leaf, veins removed, milled on granite at 40 g an hour. Vivid, creamy, ceremonial.
Boiling water pulls out the bitterness the shade worked so hard to hold back. Treat it gently.
You can steep the same leaves three times. Raise the water about 10 °C and shorten the time for each round.
About two teaspoons into a small kyusu pot, for two small cups.
Pour boiled water into the cups, then into a pitcher. Each pour drops it roughly 10 °C.
Gyokuro is served in sips. Barely cover the leaves.
Alternate between cups so each gets the same strength. The final drops are the richest.
One email a year, in May, when the first flush is picked and ready to ship.
You're on the list. See you in May.