Matcha: Just Order It Right
By Kaylie Pineda
In the myriad of people I have encountered throughout my life, there is a line that sorts them into two categories. They either reflexively recoil at the word as the memory of the absolute horror show they had to tolerate when tasting it for the first time rushes in, or they are plagued by the palatability of matcha and claim it the epitome of tea. I fall into the latter, but only for the sole reason of knowing how to order it correctly to alter the flavor that makes or breaks one’s love for it.
I will admit, and we all know it, matcha tastes like a nauseating blend of animal slobbered on grass that leaves a stinging bitterness that feels like microscopic needles striking your tongue and throat at every angle. It makes you want to plunge your hand and scoop handfuls of liquid from the nearest fountain or sewer drainage on the curb and gutter to wipe off the taste that feels like it’s peeling your taste buds off. But, matcha has potential. It can offer you a sliver of heaven. You may even feel as if you have boarded a starship to discover new worlds stretched across the galaxy you never knew existed before like Ryland Grace from Project Hail Mary. It takes a grand surge of bubbling courage and bravery to get over the trauma, but fear not, because what if I told you there was an elixir that cancels it all out and triggers this starry and magical effect I just explained?
The answer is simple: go to Starbucks and customize it to your liking. They offer a variety of scrumptious options for matcha and on the other end, you can add or subtract any ingredients. I pinky promise you it won’t disappoint. It’ll be so life changing that my name will pop up in the end credits rolling at the conclusion of your life for offering the best advice/drink ever. Now let me leave you folks with some suggestions. How generous of your brain would it be to have some sense and give it a try. Get an iced matcha with strawberry cold foam and 3-4 pumps of vanilla syrup. In addition, you can also order the iced banana bread matcha or iced lavender cream matcha with 1-2 pumps of vanilla syrup, the key ingredient to achieving this astonishing transformation. Now go try it and truly decide if you like matcha or not.
Matcha Is Trending For The Wrong Reasons
By Karizma Rios
I really wanted to like matcha. It slowly became the new big thing and overpowered every possible beverage out there. I’ve seen it everywhere, from TikTok to Instagram, even on cute little accessories. I saw how big influencers praised this bright, vibrant green drink. They claimed that it changed their daily morning routines into more productive days. I felt almost obligated to enjoy what they call the “New Trend.”
But after many failed attempts with lattes, smoothies, and pastries, you name it–I’ve accepted it, matcha is just not for me. The taste of matcha is unbearable; I can’t help but think that I’m drinking liquified grass with a side of dirt. The bitterness is so penetrating that it lingers. I have to add extra syrup, sugar, and milk to make it drinkable. But it doesn’t fully mask it. At that point, I’m not even tasting the matcha. The texture of the drink is also another big issue, unless it’s whisked to perfection. From what I’ve seen on social media, matcha takes practice and patience. And if you fail to make the perfect texture, it comes out gritty, and you end up drinking watery or clumpy sips.
I’ve witnessed this myself; most coffee shops, especially Starbucks, simply aren’t taking that time. They dump their pre-powdered matcha into a cup with hot water and simply call it a day. They fail to highlight the authenticity of what matcha should taste like. Now, about the trendiness, I can’t help but feel that matcha’s popularity has the slightest to do with taste and everything to do with aesthetics.
Don’t get me wrong, the drink sure is photogenic on social media. It’s viewed as “clean” and has been praised as a healthier alternative. But just because something is presented on a shiny countertop next to a cute, complimentary pastry doesn’t mean it actually tastes good to everyone. There’s almost a sense of pressure to indulge in matcha—I’ve caught myself ordering it just to fit in, then forcing down every possible sip.
But here’s the bigger issue: the Matcha guy. You know exactly who I mean. He wears polos under his quarter zip paired with slacks, glasses, and a tie. He crosses his arms while looking up and down at you. You glance his way while he drinks a sip of his delightful matcha to start off his morning. He inquires that you haven’t had a good matcha yet, and advises you that your palate is not developed, and that you are drinking that “fake matcha”, and the real matcha is an experience yet to come. He hovers over your shoulders while you sip, waiting to see the spark in your eyes.
Spoiler–I didn’t. I completely respect the history of matcha and the origin of its Japanese tea roots, but that’s not what I’m criticizing. What I don’t enjoy is the hype that makes you feel out of place for not jumping on the green craze, especially the exhausting energy of that Matcha guy. If you love matcha, props to you, genuinely enjoy it. But for anyone with a palate sensitive to earthy, bitter beverages–or anyone who is constantly pretending to like something just because it’s the new hot thing knows that you’re not alone. I stand with you. And with that, I’ll stick loyal to my Dutch H2O’s.
