I recently noticed I don’t cover a lot of matcha on this here blog. There are some completely innocuous reasons for that: (1) everyone is already covering matcha just fine, and (2) when I do cover matcha, I tend to go a little . . . overboard.
Such was the case a few weeks back.
A month ago, during a tea-‘n-matcha-fueled dinner pairing, a university educator asked me this:
“What do you do?”
“I’m just a tea blogger,” I replied.
She sort of tilted her head, confusedly—like a Saint Bernard.
Then asked, “Why?”
The follow-up question caught me off-guard. I was both hurt and offended by it. Not because she meant it as a slight (it wasn’t and she didn’t), but more because . . . I had no clue how to answer that question.
But I’m getting ahead of myself . . . let’s get back to that tea pairing I mentioned at the beginning.
I’ve gone on record as saying that Mizuba Tea‘s matcha line is one of my favorites.
Both for their quality . . . and convenience. Convenient, how? Well, “they” are located in my neck of the woods. That’s right, I have a local matcha (read: crack) dealer. If I need a fix, I know who to call/text/e-mail/smoke signal.
The T Project Grand Opening – Teashop Adventure Week
Several months ago, I stopped through Northeast Portland to stay a spell at Tea Bar. And it was . . . crowded. As a self-professed introvert, I don’t do well in crowds. If I’m with peers, I mind them less. But if alone, crowds feel suffocating. While I was happy that Tea Bar was doing well, the sheer volume beautiful twentysomethings enjoying their lattes was panic-inducing to my olden heart. My plan was to grab my usual Lapsang Latte and go.
Then, toward the back, I saw a familiar face – Mizuba Tea’s Lauren Purvis was conversing with someone. Someone I knew! I thought. And I bee-lined for them . . . totally not thinking that I was interrupting a professional conversation . . . which I was.
The woman Lauren was speaking with was Teri Gelber, a soon-to-be teashop owner.
Image mooched from tprojectshop.com
I can’t cook . . . worth a damn.
The only interest I’ve ever taken in food preparation is, well, how to eat it. That is where my exploration of the culinary arts begins and often ends. Beyond the making of an epic sammich (yes, sammich, not sandwich), my ability to cook, bake, and . . . just generally follow instructions of any kind falters.
What does one expect from a guy who screwed up Easy Mac? Twice. In one session.
I highlight all of this to illustrate that I am the most unqualified candidate for food-related events, such as the one I attended on Saturday.
Smith Teamaker had booked a cook book author for a demonstration at their HQ. The author in question was Annelies Zijderveld, and her new book was Steeped: Recipes Infused with Tea. As the title suggests, the focus was on how to use tea in a culinary capacity. (Y’know, besides just sprinkling kitchen-grade matcha on everything and calling it a tea recipe.)
Tea MC Tiff, Smith’s social media guru-ess, sent me an invitation to the demo a couple of months back. Initially, I had to decline because of my dodgy weekend work schedule. However, by some stroke of foodie fate, I ended up with the day off. I planned my day around the event accordingly, “hired” the lovely M. Tepper to photograph the proceedings, and the mission was a “go”.
I honestly didn’t know what to expect, having never attended a cooking demonstration before. A part of my mind was picturing Julia Child caked in green tea powder. That non sequitur image was dispelled upon entering Smith’s boardroom. Tiff expertly corralled us press folk, and took us to the back kitchen.
Annelies and her assistant-du-jour were aproned and bustling.
There were tea and foodstuffs everywhere. My tummy growled in both frustration and delight. I hadn’t eaten lunch, yet. Said stomach reminded me quite loudly. But back to the book . . .
Annelies’s inspiration for writing Steeped came during her time working for a tea company. Yes, she actually had tea industry experience. One day, while working on something menial, she grabbed a gyokuro leaf and started chewing on it. She liked the taste so much, she figured, why not a cook book?! Stranger inspirations have happened. I once plotted an epic space battle in the shower – sound effects and all.
Participants were first asked to indulge in a tea tasting.
Bowls of Long Jing, Roobios, Lord Bergamot, Keemun Hao Ya, Masala Chai, and ceremonial grade matcha lay in front of us. I was surprised at the last one. Usually, in regards to cooking, culinary grade matcha was utilized for recipes – mainly for bulk amount and cost effectiveness. I was a bit elated by this high-brow change.
Palates primed, Annelies then guided us through several ways to use the teas in various recipes. Many called for using a simple coffee grinder to pulverize loose tea leaves into a course (but not matcha fine) powder. Roobios was utilized in a butter recipe that was simply divine – with a capital diva! Long Jing was, quite surprisingly, put to good use as part of a furikake seasoning for popcorn. Keemun was paired with salt for a white bean walnut spread. Masala Chai was used for nifty li’l cupcake thingies. And good ol’ matcha was paired with coconut to form . . . something. (I forgot the name of it. Wasn’t a fan.)
But my favorite . . . oh dear lord . . . my favorite . . .
F**king Earl Grey yogurt!!!
Holy bergamot balls this was good. And the best part, the recipe was easy. Put simply, it was dunking Earl Grey (in a filter bag or sachet) in yogurt, repeatedly, for three days, and stirring. Even I couldn’t screw that up. The results were astounding. In plain yogurt, the bergamot notes were subtle and sweet, but still there.
The demo ended with an opportunity to purchase the book and mingle a bit with the authoress. By the end of the two-hour event, I was full and quite caffeinated. Lost track of my appetite. As a parting gift from Smith’s, we were each given a tea “starter kit” to try some of the recipes at home.
Now . . . all I need is yogurt. Lots of yogurt.
This all started back in the Spring…with Instagram. I was still fairly new to the site, and had one specific goal for it – make my blog pictures look prettier. I was a crappy photographer at best; a passable one at worst. Never did I expect to actually use it to network. Social or otherwise.
Sometime that season, I was “followed” by an outfit that caught my eye, simply dubbed Tea Bar.
It was exactly as it implied, a soon-to-be bar focused on tea in North Portland. I was intrigued and started interacting with the outfit. As far as I was concerned, Portland needed more tea bars.
Shortly after that, a young woman friend requested me on Facebook. Women never add me on Facebook. (Unless I’m related to them.) Her default picture depicted her sunbathing in Mexico. My initial thought was, Fake profile. I’d dealt with Facespam before.
Before I inched toward the “Deny” tab, I looked at her employment stats. She was the owner of Tea Bar, Erica Indira Swanson. That caused me to arch an eyebrow or two. The woman looked old enough to be my niece. Soon enough, though, she confirmed it. Either tea entrepreneurs were getting younger…or I was finally an old top hat in the tea community.
Erica messaged me seeking advice about what to carry on the Tea Bar menu. While I hardly considered myself a professional anything, I agreed to occasionally give my teacups worth of insight. We agreed upon a meet-up at a tea place downtown to discuss this further.
Despite her age, she was professional and optimistic in person – personable and radiating enthusiasm. I…came across as a guy talking about his comic book collection. Logistics of tea were discussed, but I couldn’t help thinking I was geeking out a little too much over tea. Even down to our choices of beverage while talking.
I had selected some Nan Nuo sheng pu-erh and a first flush Chamong Darjeeling for taste comparison. Just because.
While we kept in touch, I didn’t see her again until the Fall. It was a particularly busy summer. In the interim, I kept tabs on Tea Bar’s development. The look Erica had in mind was one of – what I would describe as – comfortable minimalism in aesthetic. The proposed interior was inviting but not too busy; modern but not urban. It reminded me of an art gallery I used to work for.
In September, I finally set out to see the progress for myself. Erica agreed to meet up to show me around. The interior was about two-thirds the way done. Her pictures of the development were great.
Mine were…um…
We’ll just stick with hers.
Of the helpful pointers I could give her were potential tea-related contacts in the Portland area. Over the ensuing months, I had encountered both Lauren Danson from Mizuba Tea and Nick Lozito from Misty Peak Teas. Tea Bar needed a matcha and a pu-erh. I pushed for those to be added to the menu, and “softly” facilitated contact with them.
A couple of months after that, Erica contacted me to finally taste-test their proposed menu. Said meet-up was the weekend before their opening day. I had never sat in on product testing before. As a blogger, this was well out of my paradigm. I usually product tested at home. In my pajamas. Shower optional.
When I arrived, there was a group of them discussing finer business-related minutiae.
Mizuba Lauren showed up as well. I was the oldest one in the room by a good fifteen years. Dear lord, I was an old top hat in the tea community, now. All I needed was a monocle.
Of the items tried, the highlights were no surprise to anyone.
We started off with some 2014 sheng from Misty Peak.
It was just as I remembered it – fruity, floral and forgiving.
Second off was a trial whisking of Mizuba’s matcha.
After three tries, an ideal technique was agreed upon. It was a frothy, green blanket of awesome.
Those highlights aside, there was one thing I wasn’t expecting. One particular item on the menu that solidified my continued patronage. And I found out about it by accident as the group were playing with the milk steamer.
“You should have a Lapsang Souchong latte on the menu,” I suggested, half-joking.
“Oh, we are,” Erica replied.
My eyes widened.
“You want to try one?” she offered.
“YES!!!” I think it was the first time I ever shouted in all-caps.
“Sweetened or unsweetened?”
“UNSWEETENED!”
It was…it was…*sigh*
Glorious.
Like…William-Wallace-leading-an-army-of-Scotsmen-on-the-fields-of-Sterling glorious.
And with that, I was sold on this place. The comfy bar stool, the farm-direct rari-teas, the smiling faces, the apparent camaraderie. This new haven, this Tea Bar had potential. And I was happy to see it grow from the bleachers.
As of today – Monday, Dec. 1st, 2014 – Tea Bar has opened its doors. I wish Erica and her crew much success.
Photo by Justin Bond
This story began – as many of them do – back in June, at World Tea Expo. I was pal-ing around with Nicole (Tea For Me Please) Martin, when she stopped in mid-stride. She insisted I make the acquaintance of a young woman.
Said lady-person was Lauren Danson, the proprietor of an online matcha store dubbed Mizuba Tea Company. Nicole mentioned Lauren was moving out to Portland. The matcha maven confirmed this, yet she looked to be in a hurry. We agreed to touch bases once she was Oregon-bound.
The reason for her move northward? To be with her then-boyfriend/now-fiance – a coffee roaster/organic bread baker/part-time wine bartender. A matcha seller and a roaster-baker-bartender…this couple couldn’t have been more “Portland” if they tried.
Lauren informed me she was stopping off in Portland later that month, and the couple and I agreed to meet up. Over beer. Teabeer to be precise. Lapsang Souchong Porter to be even more precise…because…reasons.
They were wonderful company, and put up with my semi-alcohol-and-expletive-fueled tangents. Before parting ways, Lauren and I set up a tentative matcha demonstration for August-ish. Just as soon as she was fully a Portlandian.
Alas, life happened. I was busy with…um…well, nothing really. She didn’t have much going on, either. Well, except for that whole engagement thing. No big deal.
However, in the middle of September, we agreed on a Saturday for sampling her wares.
I was particularly eager to try them because I had a – dare I say – unhealthy obsession with matcha from the Uji region. And she sourced her matcha from only two farmers in Uji. Liking them was not going to be a problem. Keeping my face from permanently sticking to the matcha bowl; that would prove challenging.
That Saturday, Lauren greeted me with a beaming and disarming smile. Seriously, if she were a hitwoman, she’d get away with murder. Like…all the murders.
First up, she served – what she dubbed – her Daily Matcha.
Just as the taster notes described it was straight cream and froth on the tongue with a touch of grassiness on the back-end. Oooooh yes, this was my Uji. Oh, how I missed thee. While considered her lower-end (but not culinary grade) matcha, I couldn’t tell that from taste. It was just as good (if not better) than some of the high-end Nishio matchas I’ve tried.
Second was her next-level ceremonial stuff, the Hibiki Organic.
Instead of serving it in a chawan (matcha bowl), Lauren insisted I prepare it…in a mason jar. I approved of everything about this approach. Instead of needing a whisk, a bowl, a kimono, and/or a newly-minted geisha, all one needed were a mason jar and a healthy handshake.
It floored me. Aside from the requisite notes of kelp, grass and bliss, there was also something akin to macadamias. Well, that is, if macadamias were dipped in vegetarian awesome sauce. I had some difficulty recovering, and my face – as I feared – was glued to the mason jar like a horse trough.
However, we still had one more to go – the really high-end ceremonial matcha – the Kichoen.
The smell of the powder was whiff-for-whiff like dark chocolate, and when whisked, there were layers of taste to peel away with my brain. I don’t even have words in English or Japanese to describe it. My mouth ballooned with Zen and belched Bushido bliss.
Of the three sampled, Hibiki was more my speed, which is – as I’ve established before…a really tricked-out moped. The Daily was a reliable and fairly fancy car; Kichoen was a friggin’ spaceship.
As a capper for the afternoon, Lauren even dished out some of the base material matcha powder stemmed from – gyokuro’s prettier sister, tencha.
I’d wanted to try that green tea for years, but finding it always eluded me. Until that day. Another “Tea WANT!” notched off.
Before I knew it, two hours had elapsed. Eventually, I rousted myself from the balcony bench, bid my farewells, and left with a pretty significant froth-buzz. Portland is a weird, coincidental place.
But if it keeps throwing farm-direct tea vendors in my path…I’ll cope.
A couple of weeks back there, I attended a different sort of tea meet-up. The Portland Tea Enthusiasts’ Alliance and The Jasmine Pearl Tea Merchants joined forces for a movie night. The movie in question? Tea Fight (or “Dou Cha”) – a Taiwanese/Japanese co-production centering almost entirely around tea, and the people who drank it. One of the Jasmine Pearlites described it as “tea porn”.
Sold.
The Jasmine Pearl were serving up hojicha and Mayucha sencha, while PDX Tea Dave brandished some Taiwanese oolongs. Fitting given the origin(s) of the movie. I was looking forward to it on a scholastic level; I’d never seen a movie that focused completely on tea. Well, except for a rather cool, teacentric episode of Sherlock. The writer part of me wanted to see how it was done so I could compare it to my own tea-fiction-y efforts. Another thought that ran through my head: When/where did Portland get so many hot tea chicks?! (It was ruining my concentration.)
Ahem…
The movie opened with an anime sequence – yes, an anime sequence! – explaining the backdrop. In the distant past, there were two rival tea clans – the Female Golden Tea Clan and the Male Golden Tea Clan. The Female clan brewed tea that instilled a sense of calm and peace, whereas the Male clan’s brew instilled passion and aggression. Due to a misunderstanding involving a Japanese tea merchant (surnamed Yagi), the Male Golden Tea Clan exterminated the Female.
In the ensuing kerfuffle, a little boy combined both the Male and Female liquors, drank them, and turned into a dragon. Realizing the wrong they’d done, the Male Golden Tea Clan scoured the remains of the Female clan’s village for any surviving tea bushes. There were none – save one. A single plant rescued by the Japanese merchant, Yagi.
And that’s just the first ten minutes of the movie.
The rest of it deals with the descendants of the two tea clans and the father/daughter heirs to the Yagi family. I won’t give anymore away than to say that the movie plays out like Karate Kid meets Romeo & Juliet by way of Sideways. The story is told in broad strokes – as it should be – and particular emphasis is placed on tea brewing. Albeit exaggerated.
From a tea geek’s perspective, I found some of the brewing techniques fascinating. The Male Golden Tea Clan pressed their tea into beengcha cakes, scraped leaves off, stone-ground them to a fine powder, and then whisked. The Female Golden Tea Clan…uh…did tea-fu. (No, seriously, it looked like they splashed water in the air, and went all Crouching Tiger with it. Quit epic.)
The Yagi family stone-ground their own matcha!!! I want my own stone-grinder! If I had one, I could finally realize my dream of making green rooibos matcha. And, wow, I’m getting way off topic.
In short, the movie was cheesy in all the right ways. It was the first media-ish piece I’d seen that captured the true grand scale that tea’s multi-millennial history encompasses. And it took me over a week to watch it. I’ll explain…
I actually had to leave the PDX Tea/Jasmine Pearl event early for…beer. Yes, beer subverted tea. A friend of mine made a homebrewed oatmeal IPA and was unveiling it for swigging. Couldn’t be passed up. However, I was able to at least take in over half of Tea Fight before leaving.
And I was humbled.
For the better part of November – as some of you know – I’d undertaken a NaNoWriMo project. For those not familiar, that’s where a writer tries to concoct 50K-word novel in a month. That’s right, a month. My initial goal was to cheat and repurpose old blogs into a book; I called it “CheatoWriMo”. Unfortunately, nine days into the project, I had an inconvenient epiphany – dictating that I start from scratch. The new idea was pure tea porn.
At first, I was engaged in the project, but the narrative was heading in a direction that I didn’t quite like. The entire affair was starting to make me feel uncomfortable, and I wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was the fact that it hit too close to home, or maybe it was just bad writing. I dunno. Then I saw Tea Fight…and I was ready to throw in the towel.
While it wasn’t a perfect movie by any stretch, it did what I was trying to do and did it better. What I had put to paper so far didn’t convey what I wanted it to. And Tea Fight did. Toward the tail end of the week, I announced that I was scrapping my little tea tale. I couldn’t even stand to look at the manuscript.
In the interim, fellow Tea Trader and NaNoWriMo participant – Courtney the Purrfect Cup – had reached the 50K mark. I was proud of her. She and another compatriot – authoress Katrina Avila Munichiello – plus others in the NaNo group urged me not abandon the project, but instead give it room to breathe. An answer would come, they stressed.
Yesterday, I finally finished watching Tea Fight, and came to a realization. I totally missed the point of the movie. Yes, there actually was a message it was trying to convey, and it was oddly relevant to my mid-writer’s crisis. One of the deus ex machina characters in the movie was the ancient tea scholar, Lu Yu. He appeared occasionally to motivate the characters forward. I won’t give away the movie’s ending, but the overall moral was (paraphrased slightly): “Your true fight is the one with yourself. Tea is innocent.”
All this time, the story made me uncomfortable because I was drawing upon more of myself than from stories prior. Actual life experiences were being used as a basis for the plot. I was blaming the material, but – in reality – it was me. The story wasn’t crap; I was crap for trying to quit. Only time would tell if it was a train wreck.
At the time of this writing, I was undertaking another challenge. The Canton Tea Co.’s Tea Club had sent me some Ali Shan and Li Shan (i.e. Taiwanese oolongs), and they were asking participants to choose a victor. This proved a difficult comparison, but in the end, Ali Shan won me over by a hair. However, the best results came from mixing the two. Unity superseded the tea fight. Right now, I’m swigging the mixture by the pot…
And listening to M.C. Hammer’s “2 Legit 2 Quit”.
To read what I have so far on said “tea porn”, go HERE.
First, let me go on record by saying: “I am not against flavored tea!”
As a well-versed/rehearsed Earl Grey drinker, I can’t say I’m above a little dash of something extra. Some of the best teas I’ve tried have fallen under the “flavor”-ful moniker. Granted, I’m more prone to traditional(-ish?) approaches to scenting teas rather than the addition of gobs of extract. (And if it’s aged in an alcohol barrel, I’m all over that shit.) However, there is one recent abomination that I have to draw the line on.
Flavored matcha.
I noticed the trend back in the fervor of my reviewing days. It seemed like something that would be a passing gimmick. The first I ever ran across was a strawberry-flavored matcha. It was…vaguely strawberry-ish, and even possessed strawberry seeds in the powder. Did I prefer it to regular matcha…oh heck, no. The second one I tried was a blueberry matcha, and it had no flavor at all.
But it got worse.
In the ensuing year, other flavors began cropping up. Caramel, banana, lavender, cheesecake (!!!), chocolate, vanilla derp-dee-derp and…maple syrup?! That was the final straw. Maple syrup-flavored anything is a gateway drug – one that leads to bacon. Yes, folks, you heard this prediction here first. We are a mere flavor agent away from having a bacon matcha!!!
Granted, to some of you, that doesn’t seem like a bad thing…but ask yourself this: Do you really want green tea with your bacon?
That is my limit. I can’t take it anymore. Matcha is a ceremonial beverage, one that induces a feeling of calm when it’s prepared. It doesn’t necessarily have to be prepared correctly – just to the drinker’s liking. As long as it is still matcha, then I have no qualm. But I’m putting my snobby foot down at flavoring the damn thing.
Tea leaves are universally known for being able to pick up flavor from either (a) the surrounding environment or (b) surrounding ingredients. Rose-scenting, jasmine-scenting, osthmanthus-scenting, masala-ladening – these are all very common and ancient practices. But have you heard someone say, “Do you know what this powdered green tea needs? Cheese. It needs cheese.” The closest thing we have to natural dairy tea is milk oolong, and it should bloody well stay that way!
I’m willing to give a pass on the existence of matcha blends, though. Case in point: Green tea powder blended with goji berry or acai. Those fruits can best be had in powdered form, anyway. Even better? Matcha blended with actual useful herbs like Gymnema sylvestre (the “sugar-destroyer” herb) or lemongrass. Those work! I’ve had ‘em.
In the end, I guess I just want one thing that’s left untouched. One thing that is still sacred and sucrose-less. If I have to, I’ll horde the good stuff to make sure that it remains pure. Because some powders are worth saving.
Fuck flavored matcha.
My mother is an idea gal – always has been. The part that’s most frustrating – especially for me, the eldest of her brood – is that she is right 90% of the time. I think she missed her calling as the head of a newspaper, the magnate of an advertising agency or the moderator for a think tank. Her braingems should be bottled and sold on the black market for six figures. I say this because…well…she’s the reason this entry exists.
One phrase from her, just one phrase: “You should do movie reviews with tea.”
At first I scoffed at the idea, but then I tossed it around in my head (over a cup of tea). I thought back to the last few summer movies I’d seen, mulled over my opinions but also what teas I felt like drinking after them. Surprisingly, finding matches didn’t take that long.
Here are my thoughts:
Thor
I was not excited for this movie at all when I first saw the trailer. It resembled Flash Gordon by way of Iron Man – cheesy but visceral. The choice for director also made my brow furrow. What did Kenneth Branagh know about directing a comic book movie?! Granted, he could easily pull off “EPIC!” if he had, too…but a Space Viking movie? Secondly, it was Thor. I don’t know anyone that cares about the wing-helmeted thunder god.
What gave me some measure of hope was the writer who penned the script. I was already a fan of J. Michael Straczynski from his five-year magnum opus, Babylon 5. He also had extensive experience as a comic book writer. If anyone could make the foundation translate to cinema, he could. And, boy, did he.
The combination of tongue-in-cheek, fish-outta-water, and Shakespearean posturing made this one of the most entertaining trips to the multiplex in some time. Marvel really knows how to dial up the “FUN” factor for an intro to summer. In hindsight, nothing much appeared to happen, but I look back on it fondly.
Tea Match: “Golden-Tipped Assam”
Assams tend to be thick, malty teas usually used as the base for wake-up breakfast blends. Tippier Assams – I’ve found – possess a honey-like texture to them, similar to a Golden Yunnan. That smooth sweetness along with the burly malt bite are a good compliment to a movie featuring a golden-haired, muscle-bound god with a ridiculously large hammer.
Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides
The first Pirates of the Caribbean did the impossible; it was a well-crafted and witty movie inspired by a theme-park ride and single-handedly brought back the swashbuckler. To that, I say, “Bravo.” Unfortunately, that movie had siblings. Snot-nosed, whiny, fat, bloated siblings. The two follow-ups were a complete and utter mess. They were well executed, special effects were top-notch, but the story (or what passed for one) was pure seagull splatter. I was not looking forward to a fourth outing.
On a whim, I caught a late showing of On Stranger Tides and found myself…not hating it. Oh, it was still as drivel-ish as her two predecessors, it looked cheaper than it was, and making Cap’n Jack Sparrow a protagonist was a horrible idea, but it at least tried to match the medium scale and old-school feel of the first one. I won’t see it again, but it didn’t leave a poor taste in my mouth.
Tea Match: “Kombucha”
No, I don’t mean the bacterially-cultured “mushroom tea”. Kombu is the Japanese word for “kelp or seaweed”. I personally haven’t had it, but I’ve eaten the key ingredient. Kelp has a very sweetly vegetal, salty profile, and I assume the same could be said for its infused namesake. Unfortunately, it shares the name with another “tea” that utilizes steeped bacteria…and tastes like iced vinegar. Seeing a fourth Pirates movie was exactly like that name/flavor confusion – a well-meaning but unfortunately-named oddity.
Kung Fu Panda 2
The first Kung Fu Panda was lightning in a f**king bottle. It succeeded with what it set out to do – tell a story of a kung fu fanboy given the opportunity to be martial arts legend. That premise alone is every chop-socky geek’s wet dream. The fact that it also stayed true to the trappings of the martial arts genre helped it to transcend its Dreamworks label. Thankfully, it was also successful with mainstream audiences. (It starred a panda; this was a given.)
A sequel was inevitable, and Dreamworks was hit-or-miss with animated follow-ups. I hoped they’d learned their lesson from the last three Shrek movies. In my opinion, they succeeded. KP2 continues where its predecessor left off and explores its protagonist’s background – one that is steeped in prophecy and folklore. I even got a little man-teary towards the end, a good sign.
Tea Match: “Keemun Hao Ya B (with cream and sugar)”
Keemun is a Chinese black (or “red”) tea with an interesting flavor profile. It is almost as malty as an Assam, but also possesses shades of sweetness and smokiness. If done right, it brews to a bold crimson and – when sipped slowly – imparts its nuances gradually. Hoa Ya is a grade known for its silver tippy buds and delicate delivery. The “B” sub-variety tends to be a tad more rough around the edges – as is Kung Fu Panda 2 in comparison to its predecessor. But it takes cream and sugar well, making it more palatable for the kiddies.
X-Men: First Class
Like the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, X-Men suffered from a severe case of Sh**ty-Sequelitis. Well, third time’s a charm, according to the Powers That Be. However, to justify the existence of yet another prequel after the disastrous Wolverine movie, some major liberties had to be taken. In a brilliant move, they adopted a typical comic book motif to do this. They ret-conned and pretended the last two X-movies never existed.
For the most part, the maneuver paid off. While none of the secondary ensemble characters do much in the movie other than look badass or attractive, the dynamic between a young, brash Charles Xavier and a hot-headed (but suave) Erik Lensherr – soon-to-be Professor X and Magneto, respectively – is surprisingly well-crafted. There are plot-holes abound, special effects misfires, and some dreadful acting from a certain blonde that makes Keanu look nuanced. All said, it holds up well. Time will tell if it’s as memorable as the first two.
Tea Match: “English Breakfast (with a blended Keemun/Assam base)”
There is no set recipe for English Breakfast; the only adherence that must be made is to its strength. The blend should zing! you awake in a matter of sips. Tasting good is optional. I’ve heard some schools of thought state that Keemun is the preferred foundation, while others say Assam. What is agreed upon is that it must have an ensemble of ingredients that jolt the drinker upright. EB does this, and so does the new X.
Super 8
“MOAR LENSFLARE!!!”…seems to be the battle-cry of writer-director-producer-mindf**ker, J.J. Abrams. I’m not sure when this cinematographic calling card began, but it was most apparent in his reboot of the Star Trek franchise. In Super 8, he tones the flare down a bit but keeps just enough to give the movie a retro feel – as was his intention. This pays homage to the Steven Spielberg sci-fi flicks he grew up with and it shows.
All the ingredients are there: Unseen monster from space? Check. Comedy relief in the form of a high-voiced fat kid? Check. Shadowy military conspiracy? Check. Coming of age romance? Check. Mix and serve. If it had one major flaw – and it’s a doozie – it’s that the movie has no real identity. The strongest parts were the Spielbergian/kiddie character scenes. Everything else seemed “meh” by comparison. This could’ve been a true 80s sci-fi send-up if it weren’t so schizophrenic.
Tea Match: “Matcha-Iri Genmaicha”
I love matcha (Japanese powdered tea), but I loathe genmaicha (Japanese “poor man’s” tea…blended with rice). Put the two together, and you have something that I begrudgingly enjoy. The nuttiness of the rice is downplayed by the kelp-like sweetness of the matcha. The blend is even better if the green tea base is a higher-grade sencha rather than crude bancha. This is as conflicted a blend as the elements of Super 8 are. Parts work, parts don’t. The experience is watchable/drinkable, pretty to look at, but – in the end – forgettable.
To conclude, I had way too much fun doing this. My mother’s brain wins again. The summer’s still young, and I can’t wait to ponder what brews up well with other blockbusters. I wonder if I could sneak a teapot into the theater. Hrm. Probably a subject for another blog.
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