Yame lies in the south of Fukuoka Prefecture, on Japan’s island of Kyushu. For us, however, it is more than a point on the map. It is a landscape of mountains, fields, rivers, mist—and tea. This time, we would like to introduce the place behind Yam A Cha.
Somewhere in Southern Japan
If you have travelled to Japan, you may know Tokyo, Kyoto or Osaka.
If you are interested in Japanese tea, you may also have heard names such as Uji or Shizuoka.
Yame is quieter.
It is located in the southern part of Fukuoka Prefecture, on Kyushu, the southernmost of Japan’s four main islands. The region stretches from relatively open countryside into forested mountains further east.
As you travel toward the mountains, the scenery gradually changes. Houses become fewer. Roads follow rivers and valleys. Forested hills rise on either side, and patches of cultivated land appear wherever the terrain allows.
Tea has been part of this landscape for centuries. The history of Yame tea is traditionally traced to 1423, when a Zen monk returning from China is said to have brought tea seeds and tea-making knowledge to what is now the Kurogi area of Yame.
But you do not need to know this history to notice that tea belongs here.
You can see it in the fields.
Mountains, Mist and Tea
Tea is grown in different parts of Yame, from broad rolling fields to small gardens tucked into the mountains.
The mountainous areas have their own particular climate. Days and nights can feel quite different in temperature, rainfall is plentiful, and mist frequently settles over the valleys and hills. These conditions have long been associated with tea cultivation in the region.
Our own tea comes from a small garden at around 600 meters above sea level.
Up there, the landscape feels different from the plains below.
The air is cooler. Weather can change quickly. Clouds move across the hills, and on some mornings mist obscures parts of the landscape before slowly lifting.
For us, these are not simply picturesque details.
They are part of the environment in which the tea grows.
A tea leaf does not grow separately from its surroundings. Temperature, sunlight, rain, soil and the rhythm of the seasons all become part of its life before it reaches the cup.
That is one reason we keep returning to the idea of place when we talk about tea.
Yame and Gyokuro
Within Japan, Yame is particularly well known for gyokuro.
Gyokuro is a style of Japanese green tea in which the plants are shaded before harvest. Yame has developed a particularly strong tradition of producing it, especially in its mountainous areas, and the region has received repeated recognition at Japan’s national tea competitions.
Yame tea, however, is not only gyokuro.
Sencha is also grown here, along with other styles of Japanese green tea. The landscape contains large tea fields as well as much smaller farms, and different growers make different choices about cultivation and processing.
Yam A Cha begins with one of those smaller mountain gardens.
Our focus is not on reproducing the particular richness for which Yame gyokuro is famous. We are interested in another expression of the same landscape: sencha with freshness, aroma, gentle astringency and the natural character of mountain-grown leaves.
It is one place, but tea can tell its story in many different ways.
Beyond the Tea Fields
Yame is not only a tea-producing area.
There are forests and rivers, old neighborhoods, farms and workshops. Traditional crafts have also long been part of life here. In the historic center of Yame, old merchant houses remain, while further into the mountains the atmosphere becomes increasingly rural.
For people who grew up here, these things do not necessarily feel remarkable.
They are simply part of home.
Perhaps that is why it can be surprisingly difficult to explain your hometown to someone who has never been there.
What should you mention first?
The mountains?
The tea?
The smell of the air after rain?
The narrow roads along the river?
The way the hills look in different seasons?
There is no single answer.
And perhaps that is part of the reason for this journal.
A Place Behind the Cup
When tea travels, its place of origin can easily become just a name printed on a package.
“Yame, Japan.”
Two words.
But behind those words is an actual place.
There is a field where the leaves grew. There was weather on the morning they were picked. Someone watched the plants through winter and waited for new growth in spring.
We would like to keep some connection to that place, even when the tea travels far away from it.
So when we say our tea comes from Yame, this is what we mean.
A region in southern Japan.
A landscape that moves gradually from fields into mountains.
A place with centuries of tea history.
And, somewhere high in those mountains, a small garden where our tea begins.
Next time, we will turn from the place to the tea itself and ask a simple question:
What exactly is sencha?