a meaningful visit to a tea utensil shop
I’m currently in Japan, and today I visited a tea utensil shop that left a strong impression on me. As soon as we entered, the obaa-chan (the owner’s wife) welcomed us warmly and offered us a small sweet and a bowl of matcha. That simple gesture already said a lot—it wasn’t just a shop, it was a place of hospitality and care.
We ended up talking with her for a while, and later also with her son, who knows a lot about natsume and chawan. The shop carries practice tools and utensils from all major tea schools—Urasenke, Omotesenke, Mushakōjisenke—and they even grind their own matcha in-house using a stone mill. They source their tencha directly from a trusted tonya-san, so they can offer matcha while it’s still fresh. “Matcha changes in as little as six months,” obaa-chan explained.
We actually visited twice. On our second visit, there happened to be a Urasenke teacher in the shop too. We briefly spoke, and she also mentioned how difficult it’s become to get good tea and tools these days. It confirmed what the shop staff had said earlier—even tea schools are feeling the pressure. The global matcha boom has led to a surge in demand, and in some cases, hoarding.
I have to admit, I find it frustrating when people hoard high-grade matcha—only to drink it with milk, or worse, leave it unopened for months. Everyone has their own way of enjoying tea, and that’s totally fine. But when people who are genuinely committed to tea practice struggle to access good matcha and tools, something feels off. Matcha isn’t like collecting trading cards—its value comes from being used and appreciated while it’s still fresh. It’s meant to be enjoyed, not stockpiled.
While I was there, I decided to buy some high-quality utensils—and was lucky to get a chasen as well. I must’ve bought a lot, because obaa-chan gave me plenty of omake—extra items, a bit of discount, and genuine kindness.
This wasn’t just a shopping trip. It was a chance to connect—to learn, to exchange stories, and to feel part of the community that supports tea culture. In Japan, these kinds of encounters matter. I’m grateful I could be part of it.