Traditional green tea from Japan should be organic!

Tea is very important in Japanese culture. Although a wide variety of teas and tisanes are routinely enjoyed, it is green tea, or nihoncha, which receives most attention in Japan. Many festivals, celebrations and ceremonies are associated with the production, harvesting and consumption of green tea. Interestingly, organic green tea has, largely due to Japan’s vibrant youth culture, become very popular in recent years. By way of example, Itoen’s organic ryokucha (pictured), a fragrant green tea with a wonderfully clean taste, is now available throughout Japan. Its quality, at least in my opinion, is much higher than the non-organic “to go” varieties currently on the market. And for around 160円 it represents good value for many Japanese consumers.

Japanese culture is intertwined with stories about tea. My Obachan had a knack of telling her own versions of these stories during meal times. Indeed, I have no fonder childhood memories than of those times after dinner in May when, with our small home filled with the sweet aroma of new season tea, my Obachan would explain the arrival of tea in Japan. Apparently, at least as I recall Obachan’s story, it was Japanese Buddhist monks who, upon their return from China, brought tea packed in brick-like casing to Japan. The monks would break off small portions of the tea brick by hand, grind it in a mortar until it had the consistency of smooth powder, and then add boiling water, before serving it in large bowls.

Some things don’t change much. Certainly, the way we consume tea in Japan hasn’t changed all that much from the time the monks first enjoyed it. Unfortunately, other things do change. Growing tea was a relatively simple, albeit labor-intensive, pursuit prior to the introduction of chemical agriculture. For many hundreds of years, each successive farming generation passed down the knowledge they had gained about the soil, terrain, and climate, and how these all worked together to produce high quality tea. But during the 1950s chemical pesticides, fertilizers and chemical agents were introduced on mass to Japanese tea farms. Chemical agriculture promised increased yield, labor reductions and a decreased requirement for on-farm expertise. While it fulfilled many of its promises in the short term, as in most other parts of the world, Japanese tea growers became caught in a vicious cycle of having to use increased quantities of agricultural chemicals for lower returns.

My Obachan always understood the devastating impact that chemical agriculture would have on Japanese tea farms. And given that tea formed one of the foundation ingredients for her natural skin creams, her concern was not something she kept to herself. I recall frequent visits to our local green tea shop, or ochaya. Long before organic certification was introduced, my Obachan would request to know the exact growing conditions used on each farm whose tea she contemplated buying. Although our ochaya stocked many teas from throughout Japan, my Obachan’s questions were not taken seriously. The unfortunate reality, as our Ochaya knew only too well, was that the vast majority of tea farms were using the so-called “new” agricultural techniques that required the use of chemicals.

Fortunately, we had relatives living in Shizuoka. Shizuoka, along with Uji and Kagoshima, is famous throughout Japan for its high quality green tea. Our relatives, who were always very kind to me and Obachan, lived near a family-run tea farm that remained free of chemical inputs. Each May, without fail, they were kind enough to send us a parcel of shincha (new tea) from their neighbour’s tea farm. This was a special treat for us. One year, when I was about six or seven, my Obachan took me to visit our relatives and the Shizuoka tea farm. The train fare from Nagano to Shizuoka must have been very expensive for us because I recall Obachan saving for many months before the trip. It was during that trip that I first heard the tea pickers song:

Natsumo chikazuku
Hachi-ju-hachi-ya
Nonimo yamanimo wakabaga shigeru.
Areni mieruwa chatsumija naika.
Akane dasukini sugeno kasa.

And in English (although not quite capturing the true rhythm and beauty of the song)

Summer approaches for sure.
Eighty-eight nights have passed since the start of Spring.
New leaves are all around.
Over there are the tea pickers,
Wearing their red sashes and sedge hats.

If you ever get a chance to visit Shizuoka in May, please visit one of the traditional tea farms where each new season’s leaves are respectfully picked by hand, instead of carelessly by machines. You’ll hear the tea pickers sing as they pinch off clusters comprising two young leaves and a shoot, referred to as a leaf set with bud, before tossing them into the baskets strapped to their backs. Simplicity, tenacity, and a commitment to the highest standards for even the most routine of tasks – that is what Japanese Green Tea is – or at least should be – all about. Traditional green tea from Japan should be organic. And my Obachan knew it!

Today, although only about 1 percent of Japan’s tea farms operate under strict organic certification standards, popular culture is driving a move away from the use of chemical pesticides and herbicides. Many farms are in the process of going through the three-year conversion process necessary to rid their land of the chemical pesticides previously used. Hopefully, this transition will inspire others and precipitate a return to the traditional ways of doing things. I hope so.