One plant, a surprising number of cups
A lot of people think they do not like green tea. Usually they have had one cup, brewed too hot, and written the whole thing off.
That is a bit like trying one red wine and deciding you dislike all of them. Green tea is not a single thing. It is a wide family of teas, each grown and made a little differently, and the range within it is genuinely large. Find the right one, brewed the right way, and the story tends to change completely.
It helps to know the one thing that ties them all together.
Every green tea comes from the same plant as black, white, and oolong tea, Camellia sinensis. What makes it green is that oxidation is stopped early, soon after the leaves are picked, which keeps the colour bright and the flavour fresh. In Japan the leaves are usually steamed, which gives grassy, vegetal, slightly marine notes. In China they are more often pan-fired, which leans nuttier and toastier. That single difference, steam or pan, is behind a lot of the variety you taste.
If you only try one, make it a good sencha.
It is Japan’s most popular tea by a distance, and for good reason. The flavour is fresh and clean, a little grassy, with a hint of something sweet and nutty underneath. It is bright without being harsh, and it suits almost any time of day. A loose leaf green tea like Rare Sencha is a good example of the style, and it is the sort of cup that quietly becomes a daily habit rather than an occasional experiment.
Matcha tea is the one everyone has heard of, though fewer people know what it actually is.
Instead of steeping leaves and discarding them, you whisk a fine powder straight into water and drink the whole leaf. The leaves are shade-grown before harvest, which deepens the colour and builds a smooth, savoury sweetness with a clear umami note. It gives a steady, focused kind of energy rather than a sharp one, which is part of why people take to it. It is also the most involved of the greens to make, but the ritual is half the appeal.
Longjing, also called Dragon Well, is the classic Chinese green.
The leaves are pan-fired and pressed flat into little spears, and the flavour follows the Chinese pattern, smooth and nutty, with a toasted, chestnut-like sweetness rather than the grassy brightness of a sencha. It is mellow and easy to drink all day, and it has centuries of history behind it. If you think you do not like green tea, a good Dragon Well is often the one that changes your mind.
Gunpowder green is the one with character.
The leaves are rolled into tight little pellets that unfurl in hot water, and the taste is bolder than most greens, a bit smoky and earthy with a brisk edge. It is the traditional base for Moroccan mint tea, which tells you something about how well it stands up to strong company. The rolling also helps it keep well, so it is a practical one to have in the cupboard.
If the others sound too green, jasmine is the soft landing.
It is green tea scented with jasmine blossoms, and the result is floral, fragrant, and easy, with the sharper edges rounded off. It is one of the most approachable teas there is, and it happens to make a lovely iced cup in summer too. For anyone easing into green tea, this is often the friendliest place to begin.
This is where most cups go wrong, so it is worth getting right.
The single biggest mistake is boiling water. Green tea does not like it. Too hot, and you pull out bitterness and scald the more delicate flavours. Aim for around 70 to 80°C, cooler for the more refined teas, and use about a teaspoon of leaves per cup. Steep for one to three minutes to start, and taste as you go. Good loose leaf green tea can be steeped more than once, and the second infusion is often the nicer of the two, so do not throw the leaves away after one cup.
There is no single best green tea. There is only the one that suits you, and the moment you are drinking it in.
That is the real pleasure of it. Fresh and grassy, nutty and mellow, bold or floral, all from the same plant, handled a little differently each time. If green tea has ever disappointed you, the odds are you simply had the wrong one, too hot. Try a good sencha at the right temperature, and see if you do not come round. Most people do.
