One morning in Los Angeles, we ordered a matcha latte.
It was a beautiful green. One sip, and we knew — this was not the matcha we know from Kyoto.
It was either bitter, or simply gone — vanished into the milk. None of matcha's natural sweetness or aroma ever reached the cup.
Matcha has regions. Cultivars. Steaming, firing, blending.
And when the milk changes, the right matcha changes completely.
Still, nobody was designing matcha for each milk — oat milk, whole milk, each with a blend of its own.