A Grassy Taste of Connection
You may argue it’s coffee (or alcohol) that brings people together. While matcha is an undelightful cup of grass. I think it’s great. Well, once you get used to the grassy taste. My young brother once asked, “Where do you find joy in this?,” after taking a dissatisfying sip.
Which is your caffeinated drink of choice; strong grass or bitter dirt?
I’ve met so many new (and talented) people post-university – which in itself is quite a relief. Life after uni can be a rough transition, reputed as period of loneliness. Even harder in this economy too. The cost of leisure outside or inter-city travel is eye-watering. You become ‘time poor’ once you’re working with commitments. Friends will naturally have other priorities. Hence, my gratitude for a healthy social life. I try to remember that people and situations can shift unexpectedly, which makes each moment feel important.
With old friends or new, “Want to get matcha?” is always met with an enthusiastic yes. I never drink it alone. It tastes better with good company. And in this economy: a small luxury.
Nottingham has a growing food and drink scene which I found to be a major improvement this year. Especially, after recovering from COVID. Sneinton market and Hockley is the busiest I’ve seen. An incredibly good sign that new businesses are invested in the city despite the tough economy. As new cafés and (high-end) restaurants are opening up; that means more places to try out. It’s nice to see my culture get some well-deserved good representation from indie businesses.
If matcha is not offered, then a steaming cappuccino is taken at an ungodly hour that displeases Italians (mi dispiace).
I do find it fascinating how a simple and delicious drink brings people together – that and coffee. Long before Europe claimed coffee as the drink of reason, it was already circulating through North Africa, and West Asia as part of a rich social and intellectual life. By the time it reached European coffeehouses, men were congratulating themselves on inventing modern thought over a cup. While women, barred from entry (of course), had to form our own unofficial salons instead. Nevertheless, these establishments nurtured artists, thinkers, and writers. Like today as social hubs.
Matcha belonged to centuries of tea practice shaped in Japan. Even now, part of its appeal may be that it still invites what many rituals do: pause, conversation, and connection. Calling it a “superfood” feels like reducing all that history to a marketing tagline.
The magic of matcha? A socially acceptable reason to linger and stay connected.
It’s fun to go out into the city seeing new and old faces. Yap. Sip. The small moments in life matter a lot. They compound greatly without you realising.
Until next time,
