Somewhere along the way, matcha became a flavouring — something to turn lattes green and cheesecakes Instagram-worthy. Which is fine. But it also meant that a lot of people have never actually tasted matcha the way it was designed to be experienced: as a bowl of thin, frothy tea, whisked to a foam, drunk in two or three deliberate sips.

Ceremonial-grade matcha — the real thing, not the culinary stuff — has a flavour profile that’s genuinely hard to categorise. Grassy and umami, with a natural sweetness underneath. The bitterness, when the matcha is good quality, is clean rather than harsh. It ends on a note that lingers pleasantly for a full minute after you’ve finished.

The ritual of it matters too. Sifting the powder, warming the bowl, pouring the water at exactly 80°C, the back-and-forth motion of the bamboo whisk. It takes about three minutes. Those three minutes feel different to the rest of your morning.

You don’t have to abandon your matcha latte. But try the bowl version once. Use good matcha. Do it slowly. See if it changes something about how the rest of your morning goes.