Hi everyone! We are CHIU STYLE, a channel dedicated to sharing fun, healing, and relaxing stories and news from life. Whether you’re looking to unwind after a busy day or hear some fresh historical tidbits to enrich your routine, we hope these stories can bring us closer—like a warm cup of tea—adding a bit more joy and peace to your life. Today, let’s explore together the most lesser-known yet captivating origin story behind that vibrant green beverage: matcha!
When we think of matcha, the first images that come to mind are often Japanese kimonos, tea rooms, bamboo whisks, and exquisite tea bowls. But did you know? The true origin of matcha actually dates back to China’s Tang Dynasty (7th to 10th century). In that era, tea leaves were steamed and then pressed into compact bricks for easy long-distance transport and preservation. When it was time to drink, people would break off a small piece, grind it into an ultra-fine powder with a stone mill, and vigorously whisk it with hot water using a tea whisk to create rich foam. This was the earliest “powdered tea” in history, and its preparation and consumption method is almost identical to how we enjoy matcha today.
By the Song Dynasty, this technique reached its peak. Emperor Huizong of Song, Zhao Ji, even personally authored the Treatise on Tea, meticulously documenting how to grind tea with the finest stone mills and whisk it into perfect foam. Why were the Song people so obsessed with this elaborate method? Because Zen Buddhism was flourishing at the time, and monks discovered that powdered tea had the perfect ratio of L-theanine and caffeine—keeping them alert and clear-headed during long meditation sessions without the jittery effects of coffee. It was practically the “secret weapon of the meditation world.”
As a result, “dian cha” (whisking tea) and “dou cha” (tea competitions) became wildly popular among literati, scholars, and monastic circles. But the good times didn’t last. The Mongol-led Yuan Dynasty had little interest in this refined Han Chinese custom. Then, when Zhu Yuanzhang, the humble-origin founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty who despised extravagance, rose to power, he outright banned compressed tea bricks and promoted loose-leaf brewing. Just like that, the labor-intensive art of powdered tea gradually vanished from mainland China, surviving only as antique relics in museums.
No one could have imagined that this nearly lost tradition would cross the sea and flourish spectacularly in Japan. The person who carried this spark was the legendary monk revered by the Japanese as the “Ancestor of Tea”—Eisai Zen Master. At the end of the 12th century, Eisai traveled to Song China twice for study. Upon returning, he brought not only Buddhist scriptures but also secretly tea seeds and the complete powdered tea tradition. In his groundbreaking book Kissa Yōjōki (Drinking Tea for Health and Longevity), he passionately promoted tea’s benefits, claiming it could “dispel worries and cure a hundred illnesses.” Legend has it that even the severe headaches of Kamakura shogun Minamoto no Sanetomo were cured by Eisai’s personally prepared matcha. And just like that, matcha exploded in popularity among Japan’s upper class.
At first, matcha remained exclusive to monks and samurai: monks used it for razor-sharp focus during meditation, while warriors drank thick bowls before battle for an instant surge of alertness. Some even discovered that an ultra-concentrated cup was an excellent hangover remedy (historical documents from the Sengoku period record warlords noting that thick tea instantly cleared sake fumes, leaving them refreshed and clear-minded).
The Japanese took it further by inventing the “shaded cultivation” technique: 3-4 weeks before harvest, tea plants are covered with black nets or straw. Desperate for sunlight, the leaves ramp up production of chlorophyll and L-theanine, creating the electric emerald color, intense umami sweetness, and signature seaweed-like aroma of premium matcha today—flavors and hues far beyond what ancient Chinese methods could achieve.
In the 16th century, the tea saint Sen no Rikyū arrived. He elevated drinking matcha to “chanoyu” (the Way of Tea), emphasizing minimalist tea rooms, deliberate slow movements, and perfect mental stillness. He gifted the world the philosophy of “ichigo ichie”—every tea gathering is a once-in-a-lifetime moment that will never repeat. From then on, matcha was no longer just a drink; it became the ultimate symbol of Japanese aesthetics and spiritual practice.
Matcha’s story hides even more lesser-known “dark sides.” During the Sengoku period, warlords would get utterly drunk at victory banquets the night before, waking with splitting headaches yet still needing to charge into battle at dawn. That’s when a bowl of koicha—so thick it resembled ink—would instantly crush the hangover and reboot the brain. This isn’t modern legend; it’s recorded in daimyo diaries: thick tea was the samurai world’s “holy hangover elixir,” the 16th-century equivalent of an energy drink plus painkiller.
Additionally, the foam created by rapid whisking isn’t just decorative—it’s the most honest “effort meter.” Fine, long-lasting foam shows the host’s full dedication; coarse, quick-dissipating bubbles are like saying to the guest, “I half-assed this.” In Sen no Rikyū’s era, matcha foam was seen as a naked declaration of how much the host truly cared.
By the Muromachi period, drinking matcha evolved into an upper-class status competition. “Tōcha” events were ostensibly about tasting tea but really about wealth. Daimyo would display heirloom bowls, caddies, and scoops, with appraisers shouting market values on the spot. Records show one bowl worth an entire Kyoto street of houses. At that point, you weren’t drinking tea—you were drinking your net worth.
The most ironic twist returns to the cultural origin. Tang and Song China invented whisked tea—Emperor Huizong even wrote the foam guide—yet the Ming deemed it “too troublesome” and discarded it, lost for nearly 800 years. Today, young Chinese seeking authentic matcha must pilgrimage to Japan, buy Japanese products, and learn Japanese ceremony. This is human culture’s classic “export turns domestic”: your own child becomes a superstar next door, a national treasure, and now you’re queuing for tickets.
Speaking of matcha’s ritual and healing power, I can’t help but share a tea perfect for daily enjoyment: CHIU STYLE’s brand-new Zen Green Tea. If ceremonial matcha is profound Zen, then Zen Green Tea is like a gentle morning breeze: light, pure, yet equally soothing to the soul.
We use 100% premium Young Hyson tender buds, hand-picked from high-altitude tea gardens in Huangshan, Anhui (1,500–4,900 ft), shrouded in mist year-round. The leaves naturally carry fresh floral notes and crisp mountain air. First sip: gentle sweetness, followed by bright, lingering resonance, with a clean finish that invites deep breaths. One cup a day is like pausing life—that “ahh, finally slowing down” feeling is as real as matcha, but far easier for busy schedules.
If you’d like to bring this pure green healing into your life, click Zen Green Tea to learn more and let it accompany your quiet moments.
How to Easily Brew Zen Green Tea at Home: Simple Steps and Pro Tips
To fully savor the fresh flavor of Zen Green Tea, brewing method matters! Here are the official recommended steps:
Brewing Instructions:
- Prepare a clean cup and place one Zen Green Tea tea bag in it.
- Use 200–250ml of water at 80–85°C (if no thermometer, let boiling water sit 1-2 minutes to cool).
- Pour the water into the cup and steep for 2–4 minutes.
- Remove the tea bag and enjoy. Avoid over-steeping for optimal flavor.
Additional Pro Brewing Tips (For Delicious, Non-Bitter Green Tea):
- Water Quality: Use fresh filtered or soft water to avoid chlorine affecting the aroma.
- Don’t Squeeze the Tea Bag: Gently lift it out—squeezing releases excess tannins, causing bitterness.
- Precise Temperature: Too hot (over 90°C) extracts bitterness; too cool lacks flavor. 80–85°C balances sweetness and freshness perfectly.
- Adjust Steep Time: For lighter taste, 2 minutes; for richer, up to 4 minutes—but don’t exceed to prevent bitterness.
- Re-Steep: Premium bags like Zen Green Tea can be brewed 1-2 more times; use slightly hotter water for the second for softer flavor.
- Try Cold Brew: In summer, place the tea bag in cold water and refrigerate 4-6 hours for cool, bitterness-free iced tea.
These tips will make every cup of Zen Green Tea as pure and healing as high-mountain mist!
Want the full story and more fascinating details? Check out our YouTube video!
From Tang-Song whisked tea to Japanese chanoyu and today’s global matcha craze—this millennium-long journey tells one simple truth: In every era, humans need a drink that awakens yet calms. Hope today’s share deepens your love for matcha, and that Zen Green Tea becomes your daily green companion.
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