Sencha Ashikubo

Sencha Ashikubo was sent to me as a sample from Davids Tea. DavidsTea caught my eye with an awesome website (even though it's pink now...), and their Sencha Ashikubo caught my interest with its "traditional wood-fire drying" description. But just where is Ashikubo Valley? I had to do some research to find out. There wasn't an official Ashikubo Valley on the maps I was looking at, so I had to look into less official sources. Ashikubo is said to be a valley area in the outskirts of Shizuoka City, in Shizuoka Prefecture. Further, Ashikubo is supposedly where the first tea plants took root in Shizuoka, grown from seed by a monk in 1244, which began the transformation of Shizuoka into the leading sencha producer of Japan. One would think this kind of history would earn you a place on the map.

Sencha Ashikubo could be blocked under the category of Hika Sencha. Hika is a Japanese word used to describe a roasted aroma, and can be used as a descriptive term for all sencha. Houjicha would be said to have a very strong hika, while most sencha and gyokuro are said to have very little to no hika.

Enough research into a tea will leave a man dying to try some, so I'll dive right in.


The aroma from the dry leaf is especially strong, a pervasive hika that reminds one of roasted barley and grains, but there's also a sweetness to the smell that draws one in closer. The leaf doesn't look any different than your regular asamushi sencha, so I'll use the asamushi time recommendation of 1.5 minutes, with my general sencha parameters of 2tsp/200ml/176°f.


The liquor is a light green-yellow, a pleasant reminder of asamushicha. A strong hika and some light, placid vegetal character make the aroma up into a foody concoction that beckons a rumbling stomach. The mouthfeel is very light, like watery tea-air, and easily slips over the tongue and down the throat. This lightness is reflected in the taste left behind. The overall crisp flavor is made up of flavors of barley-grain, fresh wood (no charcoal), and a stimulating, slightly astringent vegetal-grassiness. A sweet honey after-aroma lingers and adds a nice dimension to the tea.


I expected a sencha that was composed entirely of a barley flavor and left little else to explore. Sencha Ashikubo provided more. The expected barley had a fresh wood quality to it which surprised the senses. To help wash itself down, the tea provided a vegetal quality that wasn't run off by the firing. I noted some astringency, but shaving some time off the steep, and keeping it under 1:20 would have staved it off. But the astringency gave the tea its own palate-cleaning quality which isn't common. I think this sencha would make an excellent after-meal tea, and could be a more pure replacement for the genmaicha cravings. It stands on its own quite well.

O-Cha Surugawase Sencha

I received this new addition to O-Cha's lineup the other day. Before I could try it, I read about it being difficult to brew. This excited me. I rarely have problems brewing sencha, so something that might challenge me to improve my technique was most welcome.


The dry leaf is neither light nor dark, neither very broken up nor whole. What the dry leaf does have is an abundance of stems. I tend to favor stemmy teas, I think the stems add complexity to the overall flavor. The smell from the leaf is pleasant, with a little bit of tart.


My usual parameters were used for the first infusion (2 tsp - 180 ml - 176°f - 1.5 min). The only tweaking of these parameters usually has to do with the infusion time. 45s for fukamushi, 1-1.5 min for chumushi, 1.5 for asamushi, 1 for karigane, guricha, and mecha. If the 1.5 minutes is too long, I'll adjust to a 1 minute infusion and see how that works. 2nd infusions need less time, and I generally just pour hot water in, and a few seconds later, pour the hot tea out.

The color comes out as a light yellow-green, full of small tea particles. The aroma is subdued, but sweet. The flavor is astringent. Light in the grass and vegetals, but there's an astringent sensation of the tea biting the tongue. It's quite surprising, and somehow enjoyable. I think this astringency is what makes the tea. Without it, it would taste ordinary. A few minutes later I get another shock from what this tea gives: a might caffeine kick in the rear. I start shifting in my chair while a light sweat breaks out.


Following infusions are smooth and creamy, while the liquor is still full of particles. Towards the bottom of the cup, where the particles lie, the astringency returns.

Now, just what brewing parameters should be used? I have no fracking clue. You can check this thread to see where the conversation has gone. I believe that the astringency is the product of an odd processing method where the leaf was slightly oxidized. Might it have been a mistake? It's possible. I see two possible brewing techniques: do it normally and get used to the astringency, or brew at cool enough of a temperature (~140°f) to keep the bitter bits from being released en masse. One could also try filtering out the particles which might be responsible for the astringency. I will continue to tweak parameters, and leave a comment on this post if I do find Surugawase's "sweet spot."

Kuradashi Gykuro Hibiki-an

Hibiki-an Kuradashi Gyokuro "Super Premium." The "super premium" title is just some marketing mumbo jumbo that Hibiki-an thinks makes their tea sound better. Really, it's just there for hierarchical sake. Kuradashi refers to the type of gyokuro it is. Kuradashi gyokuro can be summarized as an intentionally aged tea. Traditional gyokuro is aged for up to 6 months, while kuradashi gyokuro can be stored over a year for enrichment. Hibiki-an aged their kuradashi in unsealed foil bags in wooden boxes, which are then kept in a refrigerator. For more information than you probably want on Hibiki-an's kuradashi, and kuradashi tea in general, see here.


The first thing noticed in the tea liquor is how clear it is. Wow! I'm not well versed in the area of gyokuro, but I've never seen one come out so clear! Along with the color, the aroma is also subdued, but has notes of sweet honeydew and grass. I'm also somewhat surprised at how light the flavor is. There's no punch, not at all, instead, if one weren't paying attention, it might seem like water! But there is still some viscosity that follows the honeydew and grass on their sweet passage across the tongue, and the very slightest hint of astringency that is the tea telling you it's still there. A later note on this tea is that it stays very consistent from steep to steep, hardly being able to distinguish one from the next. It does drop off in flavor in the 4th infusion, even though the flavor consistency stays.


Synopsis: A much refined tea for the initiated palate. Likely a pleasure to those new to Japanese greens as well, but more stimulating for those who can appreciate the flavors locked by refinement. In other words, experienced tasters can be analogized to sound systems with very powerful amplifiers, being able to pull out tastes that could easily be looked over as "noise." Characterized mostly by the sweet honeydew, it is an easy-to-enjoy pleasure, but at $24/40g, it's also a very expensive one.