THE STORY
OF HOMARE
Eight centuries ago, monks brought tea seeds to the banks of the Uji River. The mist off the water, the hills that hold the morning sun back a little longer — Uji became the place Japan trusts with its finest tea. Homare begins there, in one shaded field, with one spring picking.
THE SHADETHREE WEEKS OF DARKNESS
Weeks before the picking, the field is covered. In the shade the leaf works harder — it reaches for the light it cannot find, and fills itself with everything that makes matcha taste the way it does: deeper green, gentler sweetness, less of the bite.
Nothing is rushed. The cover stays until the leaf is ready, not until the calendar says so.
THE FIRST PICKINGONCE A YEAR
一番摘み — the first harvest of spring. The youngest leaves at the top of the plant, holding a whole winter of rest inside them. They are picked in a short window, steamed the same day to stop them changing, then dried into tencha — the leaf, and only the leaf, with stem and vein removed.
There is no second picking in Homare. When the first harvest is gone, we wait for spring.
THE STONE MILLSLOWLY, ON PURPOSE
The tencha is ground between granite stones, turning slowly so the leaf never heats and never loses its scent. A stone mill is not a fast tool — an hour of turning yields only a small tin of powder. That slowness is the point: it is what keeps the powder silk-fine and the colour bright.
THE POUCHSEALED AT THE FARM
Matcha fades quickly once it meets air and light — so the powder is sealed at the farm in Uji, straight after milling, in an aluminum pouch that keeps both out. What reaches you is the matcha as it was on the day its leaves were picked and ground: fresh, green, and quiet.
The label is white. The words are few. 誉れ — Homare — means honour: the honour of the field, kept all the way to your bowl.
First harvest · stone-milled · sealed at the farm.
Suitable for both koicha and usucha — 濃茶・薄茶両用.