Drink your goddamn tea! (お茶を飲み干しなさい！)

(Like you've never referenced Final Fantasy VII in your blog.)

I'm certain that many of you, like me, have found the great United States sorely lacking in the tea department upon returning from Japan. No, I don't mean that diabetes-inducing fruit-flavored rubbish you find in most restaurants these days, nor do I mean the kind that you're supposed to serve with cream and sugar with a tray of biscuits (thanks, England)... I mean tea.

Er... ok, maybe not that tea.

... well now you're just being silly. 

Ah, there we go.

Of course I'm referring to that tea that we all began to take for granted, picking it up from any vending machine, convenience store or supermarket we happened to be passing by on the way home. After a time, we could no longer recall a life without every form of tea imaginable at our beck and call, at any hour of the day or night... a savior on a hot afternoon suffered with no air conditioning, or some handy hydration after a long night of dancing and carousing.

Yea, that tea.

But then, horror of horrors, when you return to America and peruse your local grocery store for a thirst-quenching beverage, you find that you had forgotten one of the most inconvenient cultural differences in existence!

A lack of tea appreciation.

Alas, any tea you find on convenience store shelves in this country is doomed to be over-sweet, over-brewed, over-flavored, or just plain nasty.

That's right, I said it. 


In a country where gourmet culture is governed by a nation-wide sweet tooth, unsweetened teas have little to offer.

Yes, yes, I know it's a stereotype, but I'm going by what sells, people. And really, it's not a horrible thing--after all, we, as a species, have been conditioned to like sweet things. Our bodies simply haven't caught up with our modern age, where calories need not be hoarded for the harsh climes of the winter and pounced upon at every opportunity... So in reality, a sweet tooth is the human condition, not the American one, and you should remember that every time someone insists that Japanese people don't like sweet things. Sure, their pastries may contain far less traditional sweetening than do those in the good ol' US of A, but what they fail to remember is that wagashi, or traditional Japanese sweets, are practically loaded with sugar and sweetness, and those nibbles they serve during tea ceremonies are nothing more than sugar held together with water and propriety and...

.... ahem.

However. The market's reluctance to embrace Japanese tea need not hinder your thirst quenching! Fear not, for I, your humble servant, have done some back-breaking (and tongue-shriveling) research in order to find the best substitutes for  that Japanese tea you know and love.

Now, this is all provided that (a) you don't live near an Asian supermarket with a sizable Japanese section and (b) you prefer not shelling out exorbitant amounts of money. If neither of these apply to you, well... um. Stay for the witty commentary?

For all you green tea lovers, we have お～い　お茶, or Oi Ocha, if you prefer. A brand sold in Japan that I have found at my local gourmet supermarket, you can apparently also buy this one online. Admittedly, if you're going to resort to using the interwebs for your tea fix, you probably don't meet that (b) criteria up there... I can guarantee you, though, that Amazon won't provide nearly as many humorous anecdotes as I do. In general. Probably.

Anyway. I, personally, am not the biggest fan of plain old green tea, and prefer 玄米茶 (genmaicha) if I'm going to go the green route.

Unfortunately, I have yet to find this stuff state-side. Er, outside the Japanese supermarkets. Quit poking holes in my post!

If you're desperate for some tea but not so much the caffeine, barley tea is probably more up your alley.

I can vouch that this brand is tasty, though I have tried a number of other cold-brew varieties available in the US and found them to be at the same level. You have to make this stuff yourself, but that's usually what you do with barley tea anyway. Or it's what you should do. Come on, don't be lazy! It winds up being cheaper in the long run anyway, and good for the environment to boot!

(Won't my grandmother be proud.)

Finally, we get to the kicker. As you may or may not know, I have a great love in my heart for oolong tea. Despite numerous varieties available here in the states, for a long time I was saddened by dull flavors and bitter aftertastes.

Until now.

(cue heavenly chorus)

Oh, UCC. You make some delicious, delicious tea, and I can afford you in high doses.

Initially, I discovered this brand being served at my favorite local Japanese restaurant. Delicious, but of course, ridiculously overpriced and miles away. Alas. What's a girl to do. When I discovered it at my (much more) local Asian supermarket, however...

... where did that heavenly chorus get to?

Anyway, this is by far the best oolong tea I have found in the US that doesn't cost an arm and a leg. Now, this may depend on where you're buying it, but if they're charging you more than 99 cents a can? They're ripping you off.

But hey, capitalism and all. Woot.

And then, of course, there's... 爽健美茶 (soukenbicha).

Do I get a third heavenly chorus? Anyone?

Now available in black flavor.

This stuff is the universe's gift to tea. I kid you not.

Yes, it's absurdly expensive in the US. Yes, it's ridiculously hard to find.
And yes, if you make the effort to get your hands on a bottle I'll eat my hat if it isn't the most delicious damn tea you've ever laid taste buds on.

Oh... soukenbicha.

(It's only fitting that I didn't know what it was called at first and kept referring to it as the beauty-health tea.... You know, because 健 means health and 美 means beauty and... oh, whatever.)

And thus concludes this brief foray into the world of imported Japanese teas. Abrupt? Of course. I never was very good at conclusions.

This is Edo, signing off while gloating over the six-pack of UCC in her fridge.