We are getting more and more enquiries about Hojicha, so I thought I'd write a little piece about it. It's one of my favourite Japanese teas. Because it has relatively low caffeine, I feel comfortable drinking it later in the day, and it goes very well with food.
At first glance, it does not look like the green teas many people associate with Japan. There is no bright emerald liquor, no grassy lift, no sharp vegetal freshness. Instead, Hojicha is warm and amber-toned, with leaves that have been gently roasted until they take on shades of copper, chestnut and brown.
It is still green tea. But it has been transformed by fire.
Hojicha begins its life much like other Japanese green teas. It is made from the leaves of the Camellia sinensis plant, the same plant used to make Sencha, Gyokuro, Matcha, black tea, oolong and white tea. What makes Hojicha different is not the plant, but the way it is finished.
Most commonly, Hojicha is made from Bancha, a Japanese green tea produced from later-season, more mature leaves. It can also be made from Sencha, or from Kukicha, which includes the stems and twigs of the tea plant. These stems are part of what gives many Hojicha teas their gentle sweetness and rounded roasted character.
After harvesting, the tea leaves are steamed to stop oxidation, preserving their identity as green tea. They are then dried and shaped. But unlike the vivid green teas Japan is famous for, Hojicha takes another step. The leaves, stems or twigs are roasted over high heat, traditionally in a porcelain roasting pot over charcoal.
That moment of roasting changes everything.
The leaves darken. The fragrance deepens. The grassy brightness of green tea softens into something warmer and more mellow. Notes of toasted grain, roasted nuts, caramel, gentle smoke and warm wood begin to emerge. The result is soothing rather than sharp, rounded rather than vegetal.
Hojicha is a relatively modern Japanese tea. It is said to have first appeared in Kyoto in the early twentieth century, around the 1920s, when tea merchants began roasting leftover leaves, stems and fragments rather than letting them go to waste. What began as a practical solution became one of Japan’s most loved comfort teas.
There is a quiet beauty in that origin. Hojicha was not created as a grand ceremonial tea. It came from resourcefulness, thrift and care. The parts of the plant that might once have been overlooked were given new life through roasting. In doing so, they became something entirely distinct.
In Japan, Hojicha is often considered an everyday tea. It is the kind of tea that feels at home after a meal, on a cool afternoon, or in the quiet hour after dinner. Its roasted character pairs beautifully with both sweet and savoury foods, from rice crackers and miso dishes to chocolate, caramel desserts and creamy pastries.
One of the reasons Hojicha is so loved is its softness. Because it is often made from mature leaves or stems, and because the roasting process softens some of green tea’s sharper qualities, Hojicha is generally lower in caffeine than many other green teas. This makes it a popular choice for later in the day.
Brewing Hojicha is wonderfully simple. It does not demand the same precision as some of Japan’s more delicate green teas. Use water that is hot but not aggressively boiling, and allow the roasted leaves to open for one to two minutes. The liquor should be clear and warm-toned, with a fragrance that rises like toast from a winter kitchen.
It can also be enjoyed in a modern way. Hojicha lattes have become increasingly popular, bringing out the tea’s roasted, cocoa-like depth with warm milk. Served hot, it is deeply comforting. Served iced, it becomes smooth, refreshing and almost dessert-like.
But perhaps the real beauty of Hojicha is that it asks very little of you. It is not a tea that needs ceremony, though it certainly rewards attention. It is humble, warming and quietly elegant. A tea for slowing down. A tea for returning home.
In a world that often celebrates brightness and intensity, Hojicha offers something different: warmth, depth and calm.
A cup of roasted green tea, touched by fire, made for comfort.
Simon