Genmaicha

Though often marketed as a pure green tea, Genmaicha is actually a blend made from Bancha green tea and rice. The name “Genmaicha” translates to “brown rice tea”, likely due to the color of the added dried rice. Relatively new by the history of tea, it was created in the 1920’s by a Kyoto merchant who was trying to sell some Bancha tea that was moving slowly through his inventory. Upon invention, its popularity soared among the working class and became known to the masses as a “peasant” drink. Combining tea with the common commodity of rice created a less expensive alternative to pure teas and was a creative way for people to stretch their tea dollars. In more recent years, however, it has gained popularity in all classes.

Genmaicha remains a popular drink among those fasting or individuals who go a long time between meals, as the rice gives a thicker body to the tea and makes the brew very filling.

Brew It

The best Genmaicha I’ve tasted came from Harney and Sons. The short forest green leaves are mixed with little brown dehydrated rice kernels. There are also a few white popped kernels that look like popcorn. The mixture has a bit of a dusty finish to it.

You’ll want to steep your tea for three minutes at 175 degrees Fahrenheit. Listen closely as you pour the hot water onto your tea and during the first few moments of steeping, as the rice makes a soft, pleasant crackle and popping sound as it soaks and expands.

Genmaicha’s liquor is dark green/ yellow and has a hint of cloudiness. The aroma is absolutely delicious. A hint of vegetal, but the resounding scent is reminiscent of toasted popcorn over a fire (side note: popcorn as a snack pairs well with this tea). The flavor, however, is of toasted vegetables.

When Lori and I did the official tasting of this tea we tried it two ways. First, as I described above (just tea and water). The resulting brew was light bodied and had very little astringency.

The second way we tried this tea was (at Lori’s brilliant suggestion) with the addition of a pinch of salt. As odd as it sounds, adding a pinch of salt (per 6 ounces of water, or your personal preference) to your water isn’t all that unusual. In the classic tea book, The Book of Tea, Kakuzo Okakura suggests salting the water during the “first boil”.

Scientifically, adding salt will increase the boiling temperature of the water. I’m sure someone much more knowledgeable than I would be able to step in and explain what that does to our tea leaves.

For our purposes today, I can tell you that adding salt not only will enhance the flavor of the tea, but it also will increase the body of the tea. In the case of Genmaicha, the addition of salt makes the resulting brew more broth like and even more filling. It gives your body the feeling of being nourished more than most cups of tea could sufficiently provide.

Contemplative Thoughts

The addition of salt changes this good cup of tea and turns it into an amazing one. For thousands of years salt has been a necessary ingredient in our world. It has even been said that without salt “life cannot be lived humanely” (Pliny the Elder, Roman author and philosopher). Our bodies need it for survival. Our foods need it for texturizing, flavoring, and preservation. Likewise our souls need it.

The Bible says “You are the salt of the earth”. We are each here for a reason. God created and ordained for a purpose. And even if you doubt God or your purpose on this planet, know that you are more valuable than mere grains of salt. You add flavor, texture, and depth to this world. Your very presence does more than preserve. It sustains. And you are a desperately needed member of your family and your friend group. This world would not be the same without you.

Gratefully yours, my dear tea friend.

~Elaine

Jin Shan

Jin Shan, also referred to as Jin Mountain, is a tea grown in one of China’s ancient tea growing regions in the Anhui province. The area where this tea is grown is home to an equally ancient Buddhist monastery. Since it was Chinese monks from this region who introduced Japanese monks to tea a few thousand years ago, it is highly plausible that this style of tea is what was shared.

Brew It

Procured from Harney & Sons, the beautiful dark green leaves are small and stiff with a touch of silver on the ends; the leaves have a thin downy coat that gives them a frosted look. Most of the leaves are twisted into small bits, but as you can see from the picture below, there are a select few that seem to have unraveled.

You will want to steep this tea at about 175 degrees for two to three minuets. The resulting liquor will be a very pale yellow.

The steeped leaves have the scent of kale, spinach, and steamed green beans. My tasting partner, Lori, was able to pick up on a faint citrus smells of orange blossoms and grapefruit. I on the other hand, didn’t smell anything but spinach and green beans.

Light in body, the liquor has a slight astringency to it, with flavors of wet, leafy vegetables and green beans.

Contemplative Thoughts

The flavors of this tea remind me of warm, late spring days when a garden has it’s first fruits ready for harvest. It is a reminder to take time to pause, be thankful, and enjoy the fruits of your labor.  Too often I go from one task to the next, one goal to the next. Rarely do I pause to appreciate the challenges I have just overcome, to celebrate what was just accomplished.

This is an integral part of life that is missing in our modern American culture. It keeps us from a moment of peace and joy, an opportunity to truly appreciate. It also keeps us from the opportunity to completely analyze life. As we quickly jump to the next goal we deny ourselves the chance to re-evaluate our next goal. Is it still appropriate? Are the steps that we thought we should take still the best steps? Has something better come along?

Often we must set aside one good thing for a better thing. Without a moment to pause, appreciate, and review, we may find that we are sacrificing what is best as we rush to what is merely good.

That One Bad Cup

Ok, so I’ve had two bad cups of tea in my years of drinking the elixir of life. But the fall down the rabbit hole that turned me into a self-proclaimed tea-snob started with the first bad cup.

I had been drinking tea daily for a couple of years, but hadn’t really branched out of the grocery store isle yet. A true novice. but for some reason my co-workers thought I new a LOT more than I really did. At that time, I thought all teas were basically the same. Didn’t matter where it came from, a bag of Earl Grey was a bag of Earl Grey.

And then I got on a cruise ship.

Now, if you haven’t been a on cruise yet, let me tell you: everything edible on ship is incredible. I think it’s an official rule that all food must be amazing. On this fateful day, I decide, post yoga, to treat myself to some of the delectable pastries aboard and a nice cup of Earl Grey.

And it unfolds like this:

I take my happy, zen’d self down to the Lido deck (where the buffets are), grab my little apple tarts, a few pieces of fresh fruit, and who knows what else finds it’s way onto my plate, and I locate the tea station. I grab a cup, put in the Earl Grey tea bag (not a standard brand, might have been their own, but it doesn’t matter because all Earl Grey is the same, right?!?), and pour in the hot water from the industrial sized hot water dispenser on the counter.

With a pep in my step, I make my way to a shady, less windy part of the upper deck and perch myself on a lounge chair to enjoy views of the beautiful southern Caribbean sea whilst I enjoy my tea and snack.

Aahhhhh…. Peace… Serenity…

I take a bit of one of my treats and it’s just incredible; nearly melting in my mouth, perfect texture, subtly sweet. Divine. By this time my tea has steeped, so I take out the little bag of dust and breathe in the scent of liquid gold. It smells just as an Earl Grey should. A wee bit bitter with a citrus kick.

All is right in my little world.

Expecting the tea to be as glorious as everything else on ship, I take my first sip.

Gag! My face contorts into a grotesque misshapen state.  This is the worst thing I’ve ever put in my mouth! I kid you not, it all I could do to not spit it out over the side of the ship!

I look into my cup and ponder what went wrong. Maybe it was that my treat was too sweet? I take a sip of water to cleanse my palate and try again.

Oh, wretched soul am I! No this is not happening.

But yes.  It was. I could not finish the cup.

I now realize that when an inferior blend meets an inadequate water base (not filtered) with the incorrect steeping temperature, the result is liquid gross in a cup.

It was at this moment, on a clear winter’s mid-morning, somewhere in the southern Caribbean that I learned that all teas are not the same. There are good teas and good tea blends and there are some really nasty ones; there are proper ways to brew your cuppa and there are some things you’ll want to be sure to avoid (for details on these, please check out Tea 101).

It was at this moment that I realized I had become a tea-snob.

May your cup ever be filled with good teas.

And remember: Friends don’t let friends drink bad tea.