November 2025 Newsletter

About the Tea Fields – Natural-Shitate (Hiroki A.)

“Natural-shitate” is, as the name suggests, a cultivation method that uses the tea plant’s natural form without any artificial pruning. In the early days of the tea industry—before mechanization—tea bushes were grown without pruning, allowing their branches to grow freely. The lateral branches that extended from these main branches were hand-picked for the first flush harvest.
Today, with mechanization common across many tea-producing regions, the proportion of tea grown using the natural-shitate method has become quite low.

The biggest advantage of machine-shitate—which contrasts with natural-shitate—is the ability to improve work efficiency per unit area and increase total production as the size of the farm increases. In reality, with machine harvesting, two people can pick several hundred kilograms of fresh leaves in an hour, whereas hand-picking is limited to just a few kilograms.
Because timing is crucial in tea harvesting, the area that can be harvested within a limited period determines the scale of production. For natural-shitate, which relies on hand-picking, it is difficult to secure enough pickers, making large-scale expansion impractical. As a result, production has become limited to only certain regions.

However, natural-shitate cultivation is still practiced in specific areas. Representative regions include Uji in Kyoto, Nishio in Aichi, and Yame in Fukuoka. Tea grown using natural-shitate in these areas is traded at high prices, allowing producers to maintain their businesses despite the labor-intensive nature and lower yields. In the tea industry, where quality and price are positively correlated, this fact supports the idea that the natural-shitate cultivation method produces higher-quality tea.

In practice, natural-shitate cultivation is superior in quality compared to machine-harvested methods. Tea bushes under natural-shitate grow in a more three-dimensional shape, enabling efficient photosynthesis and allowing them to secure a wider root zone. This lets the plant fully express its natural potential.
Natural-shitate trees have strong vigor, and the large branches produce powerful first flush growth. These new shoots have more leaf layers than what is typically possible in machine-harvested fields. Because these shoots harden later, they can withstand long shading periods, making natural-shitate the most suitable cultivation method for producing shaded teas such as gyokuro and tencha, which require extended shading.

The Remarkable Healthy Longevity of the Elderly in Yubune (Daiki T.) 

Since I began working in the tea industry in Yubune in 2016, one of the most striking things I have witnessed is the extraordinary longevity and vitality of the local elderly—especially former tea farmers. Even beyond the age of 85, many continue to cultivate vegetables actively after retiring from tea farming. They remain socially engaged, and when I speak with them, I rarely feel any noticeable slowing in their conversation or sharpness of mind.

One of the most astonishing sights I witnessed was an 87-year-old man climbing onto his own roof to carry out repairs himself. Observing the daily lives of these former tea farmers, I am constantly reminded of how much we can learn from their exceptional physical resilience and environmentally sustainable way of living.

Tea farming itself, by nature, involves working on steep slopes, which thoroughly strengthens the legs, core, and overall balance. Having repeated this demanding physical labor daily from their teenage years through their seventies, their accumulated physical strength is truly remarkable. In addition, traditional Japanese homes are centered around sitting on tatami mats at low tables, which naturally trains the lower body through daily life. Even bathing remains an active process for many, as they still split firewood to heat their baths—a task that serves as continuous functional exercise. Vegetables are largely self-grown, meaning weeding and cultivation remain part of everyday life. Many of the most energetic elders also go on daily morning walks.

They continue to enjoy sake, remain mentally sharp without signs of cognitive decline, live independently without entering nursing homes, and maintain a lively, self-reliant lifestyle. With the exception of electricity and modern luxuries, much of their daily life is sustained through self-sufficiency. Their way of living consistently leaves a deep impression on me. 

As for myself, with our tea factory now fully operating in-house, my workload in the fields has increased significantly. Turning forty also prompted me to take my own physical performance more seriously. In addition to farm work, I began strength training to further improve my conditioning. Each session pushes me to my limits under my trainer’s supervision, and balancing this with daily work is undeniably demanding. However, the results are clearly visible: my posture has improved, and I have become far more resistant to fatigue.

Learning from those around me, I intend to continue refining my performance at the highest possible level through healthy movement, balanced nutrition, and the enduring power of tea.

History of Japanese Tea #part2
Wabi-sabi and the Way of Tea (Misato T.)

The Establishment of Wabi-cha

The Way of Tea becomes something noble, deeply connected to spirituality. From the late 15th to the late 16th century, tea culture began to spread widely. At that time, people enjoyed tea in lively banquets, decorating the room with luxurious Chinese tea utensils.

Amid this atmosphere, Murata Jukō (1423–1502) wrote a set of teachings for his disciples known as the Kokoro no Fumi (“Letters of the Heart”). In it, he was the first to describe tea practice as the “Way of Tea.”

The term sadō (tea ceremony) did not yet exist, but Jukō discovered within the act of preparing tea not merely enjoyment, but a “Way”—a means of learning about human life and spiritual cultivation.

What is “Dō” (The Way)?

In Japan, many traditional arts carry the word 道 (dō, “the Way”) in their name: Sadō (tea), kendō (swordsmanship), shodō (calligraphy), kadō (flower arrangement), kyūdō (archery), and more.

The word 道 (dō) has two major meanings:

• A physical path where people walk; a route or passage.
• A principle one should follow; the order of the universe; a teaching.

For the Japanese, “the Way” is not only the journey of learning skills and techniques (①), but also (②) the pursuit of spiritual discipline and training to reach the truth of things.

In the process of mastering a dō, one learns to value silence, cultivate patience and concentration, and train the mind to attain tranquility and enlightenment.

Zen and the Way of Tea

Murata Jukō, Takeno Jōō—who inherited and developed Jukō’s teachings—and Sen no Rikyū, who studied under Jōō and perfected the Way of Tea, were all practitioners of Zen Buddhism.

Sen no Rikyū taught that “the Way of Tea is the same as what monks practice—it is the pursuit of self-realization.”

Below is one of Rikyū’s famous sayings:

“A house need only be built well enough not to leak, and meals need only be enough to keep one from hunger. This is the Buddha’s teaching and the true spirit of tea. Carrying water, gathering firewood, boiling water, preparing tea, offering it to the Buddha, sharing it with others, drinking it yourself, arranging flowers, burning incense—these are all acts that follow in the footsteps of the Buddhas and patriarchs.”

He clearly states that the primary purpose of the Way of Tea is Buddhist training and the attainment of enlightenment.

“The essence of wabi is to express the pure and immaculate world of the Buddha. When one arrives at this humble grass hut—the roji—all dust and impurities are swept away, and host and guest interact with a sincere heart. Thus, strict prescriptions, formal rules, and fixed measures need not be insisted upon. It is simply a matter of making a fire, boiling water, and drinking tea.”

What is Wabi-Sabi?

Wabi-sabi is an essential concept that symbolizes Japanese aesthetics.

It is a sensibility discovered and promoted by Murata Jukō and Sen no Rikyū, and it underlies not only the tea ceremony but all of Japanese culture.

Wabi (侘び) refers to the beauty of modest, simple living—an appreciation for the quiet elegance found in simplicity. Sabi (錆び) literally means “to age” or “to fade,” and expresses the aesthetic sensibility that cherishes the character and depth brought forth by the passage of time.

In simple terms, Japanese culture values simplicity and modesty over novelty and extravagance, and finds beauty in the natural aging and impermanence of things.

Let’s Begin the Way of Tea!
Lesson 1: Clothing and What to Bring (Seiya H.)

Starting this month, I would like to offer step-by-step explanations of tea ceremony etiquette for those who are new to the practice.

(1) What should you wear?

In tea ceremony, wearing kimono is traditionally required. However, in modern times, especially for practice sessions, more places allow participants to wear Western-style clothing. In any case, clean and neat attire is essential. Before entering the tea room, it is important to change into clean white socks.

Make sure to bring an extra pair in your bag so you can change into them upon arrival at the venue. Before practice begins, remove all accessories such as rings and wristwatches. Handling tea utensils while wearing these items may cause scratches or damage, so participating with nothing on your hands or wrists is very important.

(2) What items do you need for tea ceremony?

• Sensu (fan).
  • Used when greeting others. By placing the fan between yourself and the other person, you create a symbolic boundary that expresses respect.
  • During the Sengoku period, when tea ceremony became popular, taking out a fan instead of a sword showed one’s intention not to fight.
  • Men use a fan about 6 sun (18.2 cm) long, while women use a fan about 5 sun (15.2 cm).
• Fukusa
  • A special cloth used to purify utensils during the tea-making procedure.
  • Men use purple fukusa, while women use vermilion or red.

• Kobukusa
  • smaller cloth than the fukusa, used when presenting or supporting utensils.
• Kaishi (paper)
  • Paper used when receiving sweets. It is used in a stacked, folded form.
  • The size differs between men's and women’s kaishi.
• Yōji (sweet pick)
  • Also called kashikiri. A small pick used to cut and eat Japanese sweets.
• Fukusabasami
  • A case or pouch used to store the above items.
• Ko-jakin (small tea cloth)
  • A small white cloth used when drinking koicha (thick tea).
  • It is prepared slightly damp and wrung out, then placed inside a chakin-ire (cloth container).
• Tenugui or handkerchief
  • Used to clean the hands.

Basic movements: How to bow

There are three main types of bows in tea ceremony: Shin, Gyō, and Sō. They are used differently depending on the situation. Because bowing is done many times in tea ceremony, it is important to learn these basic forms.

Common points:

• Sit with correct posture and make eye contact with the other person.
• Place both hands on your knees.
• Slowly lower your body, sliding your hands forward as you bow.
• In the world of tea, extremely deep bows such as dogeza are not performed.

Shin (formal bow)

The most polite and deepest bow.

Place both palms fully on the tatami.

Used when everyone bows together or when a guest is about to drink matcha.

Gyō (semi-formal bow)

Lower the body so that the second knuckles of your fingers touch the tatami.

Mainly used for greetings between guests.

Sō (casual bow)

Lower the body until only the fingertips touch the tatami.

This is the shallowest bow and is used by the host when greeting during the tea-making procedure.

The photo shown was taken during a tea ceremony experience held at the Tea Business School (In formal practice, walking barefoot on the tatami is not permitted, and socks must be white. There are many detailed rules to follow).

Chagenkyo Matsuri in Wazuka (S. Mahdaria)

What I look forward to the most in November is the Autumn Tea Festival (Chagenkyo Matsuri) in Wazuka. The moment the leaves start turning orange, you know the festival season has begun. It’s a one-day celebration packed with food stalls, local tea farmers selling their harvest, and pop-up shops from talented craft artists. And to top it all off, there’s live music towards the end of the event. 

The festival opens in the morning with local kids singing a few songs, and it wraps up around 7 PM with a magical 20-minute fireworks show. Living in the countryside sometimes makes me feel like I’m missing out on all the fun Japan is famous for. There are so many unique festivals here, yet I rarely get the chance to experience them. But at least once a year, I get to soak in the energy and joy of the Autumn Tea Festival in Wazuka.

This year, the highlight for me was meeting a metal artist who handcrafts tea utensils, plates, and kitchenware from tin and bronze. Every piece is truly one of a kind. I ended up buying two tea spoons (chasaji) and a dessert plate—honestly, I wanted to buy more, but I tried to behave! Yusuke-san, the craftsman, told me I’m welcome to visit their workshop next time. They recently moved to Wazuka from the city, and now I can’t wait to see how his beautiful creations come to life.

Good food and Good People (Emma C.)

There is a lovely word in Japanese, 冬支度 (“fuyu jitaku”), which means “winter preparations.” As the air turns crisp and the days grow shorter, you can feel people quietly shifting into that mindset: slowing down, warming up, and getting ready for the season ahead.

Here at d:matcha, that has meant pulling out our trusty ホッカイロ (“hokairo”),  or temporary heat packs, switching on the 炬燵 (“kotatsu”) for the first time this year, adding extra layers of blankets around the house, and stocking up on all the little comforts that make winter feel gentle - new jackets and warm socks, hot teas, and filling snacks. There’s something grounding about these small rituals, and they mark the season change better than any calendar ever could.

November has also been a month of cooking for me. As the temperatures dropped, I found myself spending more time in the kitchen, trying new recipes and focusing on improving my plating. Some highlights: a bright and punchy yuzu kosho steak donburi, a delicate and elegant eggplant agebitashi, and more crudo experiments than I can count. I absolutely love raw seafood, and being able to find fresh, high-quality fish so easily means I often end up making crudo several times a week - it never stops feeling like a little luxury. I started documenting all my culinary adventures online (@pekopekomon), and it makes me happy to have a little keepsake journal of the yummy meals I make.

Another part of my own fuyu jitaku this month has been simply spending time bundled up with people I care about. As the evenings get colder, I’ve been loving slow, comfortable nights where I curl up under thick blankets, watching shows and movies together, sharing snacks, joking around, and just letting ourselves unwind. There’s a special kind of warmth that comes from that closeness; it heats the heart just as much as the body. 

Between warm dishes, cozy nights, and the quiet excitement of preparing for winter, November has felt both busy and peaceful. It has been a time of soft transitions and small joys: something I’m grateful for as we head into the last stretch of 2025.

Matcha Sweet Potato with Custard Filling (Sora N.)

The steps are simple—just mix, microwave, and bake—so there’s nothing too difficult!

Many people may not be familiar with making custard cream in a microwave, but it’s actually easier and less prone to failure compared to using a saucepan. Even beginners can try it with confidence.

Ingredients

Sweet Potato Mixture

• 300g Sweet potato
• 8g Matcha
• 25g Butter
• 45g Sugar
• 1pcs Egg yolk
• 65g Fresh cream

Custard Cream

• 160g Milk
• 2pcs Egg yolks
• 30g Sugar
• 15g Cake flour

Instructions

Start with the custard:

• Mix egg yolks and sugar, then add cake flour.
• Add milk and mix thoroughly. Replacing part of the milk with fresh cream will give a richer result.
• Cover with plastic wrap and microwave at 600W, heating in four separate intervals. Make sure to mix well after each heating.
• By the third heating, the center will start to thicken—mix well until the batter becomes sticky.
• After the fourth heating, if the custard becomes smooth and slightly runny, it’s ready. If it still feels undercooked, microwave for an additional 10 seconds at a time.
• Chill in the refrigerator for about 1 hour. Loosen it before using.

Sweet Potato Mixture

• Peel the sweet potatoes and soak them in water.
• Place them in a container, cover with plastic wrap, and microwave at 600W for 8–10 minutes.
• Once soft, mash them and mix in the ingredients in this order: butter → sugar → egg yolk.
• Measure the matcha in a separate bowl, add fresh cream little by little to make a paste, then mix it into the sweet potato batter. If the mixture is too firm, add more cream.
• Create molds using aluminum foil. Spread a layer of sweet potato at the bottom, place custard cream in the center, then pipe sweet potato mixture around the custard and shape by hand.
• Brush the surface with egg yolk and bake in the oven at 230°C for 10–15 minutes, until browned.