Matcha has taken social media influencers by storm. Until now, its following was limited to tea enthusiasts and connoisseurs of Japanese tea ceremonies, as well as a few pastry chefs who like to use this green powder in their recipes.
But matcha has suddenly shifted centre stage – or rather, centre screen. It may sometimes look strangely fluorescent, but in a world where the real and virtual are merging, does anyone care? Meanwhile, in Japan, the stones that grind the shade-grown tea leaves into a fine powder turn slowly. There is no guarantee that they will be able to meet this unexpected surge in demand.
Tea and ginger

It is common for tea to be grown alongside other crops. This can be seen in various countries, where tea bushes are cultivated among peanuts, coffee plants and tall palm trees. Here, in the Taiwanese hills, young camellias have just been planted between rows of ginger. It will be a while before their leaves can be harvested. This combination requires careful management, as ginger is vulnerable to attack by various pests. These must be controlled to avoid losing the crop, preferably using products that comply with organic standards. As a precaution, it is therefore essential to get the tea plants analysed by a laboratory.
Withering in the open air
In Alishan, a region of Taiwan known for its high-mountain teas, the leaves are spread out in the open air as soon as they are harvested, to wither in the sun. An electric shade can be rolled out at any time to protect them from the elements. Withering is the first stage in producing these famous semi-oxidised teas. The leaves then undergo various processes including oxidation, this time inside the building.
Serenity
Tea doesn’t have to be grown on vast plantations that cover hundreds of acres. Tea is also grown on a more human scale. Take this house surrounded by Camellia sinensis plants, for example. In many countries, tea cultivation has led to intensive farming practices, typically in lowland areas. However, if you climb a little higher, travel further and finish your journey on foot, you will find villagers who grow tea alongside other crops. These farmers use traditional methods to produce remarkable teas. Sometimes they sell the fresh leaves to a neighbour with better equipment or to the local cooperative. Here, I feel a deep sense of serenity. By eight o’clock in the morning, the sun has been up for a while and the household is bustling. The crowing of the rooster mingles with the chanting of a mantra, and a sun salutation greets the new day.
Sérénité
Nul besoin de plantations immenses, de domaines qui s’étendent sur des centaines d’hectares. Le thé c’est aussi cela, une maison entourée de camellia sinensis. Une production à échelle humaine. Dans de nombreux pays, la culture du thé a donné lieu à des pratiques intensives, en général en zone de plaine. Mais dès que l’on grimpe un peu, que l’on accepte de faire de la route, de finir à pied, on trouve des villageois qui cultivent le thé parmi d’autres matières agricoles et ces fermiers-là, de la façon la plus artisanale qui soit, manufacturent des thés remarquables. Il leur arrive aussi de vendre les feuilles fraîches à un voisin mieux équipé ou encore à la coopérative locale. Ce que je ressens ici c’est une atmosphère de sérénité. À huit heures du matin, le soleil était levé depuis longtemps et la maisonnée s’activait. Au chant du coq se mêlait celui d’un mantra, une salutation au soleil et à la vie.
Sharing knowledge
Sharing your passion with your team, experiencing moments of happiness together, rewarding and celebrating the best… This is what comes to mind when I express the joy of going on a trip with my team, in this case six Master Tea Sommeliers I invited to India to discover an iconic Himalayan region: Darjeeling. Over five days we visited some of the finest tea plantations (Risheehat, Barnesbeg, Seeyok and others), including some small producers, and tasted the first premium teas of the season. We also visited villages surrounded by abandoned tea gardens, where Karuna-Shechen – Matthieu Ricard’s nonprofit organisation – is working on the ground with strong support from Palais des Thés.
Here, with Allan Rai, the producer of Yanki tea, and his wife, mother and father are: Marie (Lyon Croix-Rousse store), Lucie (Nantes), Elena (communications), Simon (Liège), Lola (data analyst), Kenza (Faubourg Saint-Antoine) and myself. Is there anything more important, more essential in life, than sharing experiences and passing on knowledge and skills?
Drink your soup!
When you take part in a professional tasting, you assess the dry leaf, the infused leaves and the liquid in the cup, known as the liquor or “soup”. This last name seems particularly appropriate when it is tasted with a spoon similar to those used in Asia to drink the broth served at the start of a meal. You bring the spoon of tea soup to your lips and slurp. Inhaling air at the same time allows you to better appreciate the texture, flavours and aromas of the liquor.
Fingers of steel
The appearance of the man in the pink hat is deceptive. Beneath his innocent-looking pastel camouflage are fearsome fingers of steel. With razor blades clipped to each forefinger, he moves swiftly between the rows of tea plants, plucking the bud and the next two leaves at lightning speed.
In over thirty years of travelling through tea producing countries, I’ve come across some amazing gadgets, but I’ve never seen digits extended by steel blades before. Tea is still harvested by hand in many countries around the world, which is a good thing. Some pickers are finding ingenious ways to speed up the process and reap the rewards.
A distinctive style
In Taiwan, many tea pickers come from Vietnam. They have their own distinctive way of layering colourful clothing and sometimes combine this with bright protective covers on their fingertips to prevent their skin from turning black after a day of picking leaves.
Tea at the top
From November to March, the days in the Himalayas are cool and the skies clear. This is when you can see the distant peaks glistening white beyond the tea bushes, like Kumbhakarna (7,710 metres), whose ghostly silhouette can be seen here. The best time to see them is at sunrise, before they disappear in the mist. The view is well worth the relative discomfort of the journey and the rudimentary morning wash with a bowl of cold water and a cloth, out in the open if you follow local custom.