The Mindful Art of Japanese Coffee
Sundays in Kyoto
I had now become familiar and in some way almost comforted by the background sounds of coffee cups clanking against dishes and freshly roasted coffee beans being ground to perfection amidst the faint music of American Jazz Standards like Bill Evans and Django Reinhardt carefully chosen by the owner, overlaying the hum of Japanese conversation.
This is the masterful art form that is coffee in Kyoto.
In Japan, some disciples study single-mindedly for decades with Masters of the cultural arts such as bonsai, woodworking, lacquer or pottery. Others study with Zen-like precision, the way of coffee.
It had now become my own daily practice to frequent as many of the most celebrated coffee shops hidden throughout the narrow streets of Kyoto as I could possibly get to within a year in order to observe and take notes on these detailed Masters practicing their art form. I was like a fascinated kid, captivated and wanting to learn by simply observing.
There is a standard of excellence in Japan that is difficult to convey and is often perplexing to the average person from the West. I found a beauty in it, the way you feel when you experience someone who has given their life and attention to focusing and doing something, perhaps one thing, until they reach a level of mastery. It was something I found myself aspiring to yet knowing I simply did not have the discipline or enough years to learn.
It would not be uncommon to duck inside a tiny coffee shop beneath the living space of the humble owner, soaked from a June downpour during Japan’s rainy season, to find myself as the only customer.
I was completely alone with the Master, his only student.
Immediately, upon entering the simple and immaculate shop, I would be met with a kindly but formal owner, a smile and a bow. “Ohayo gozaimasu” he says, sharply dressed as I notice it is still before 10am. “Ohayo gozaimasu” “Good Morning” I say. Once again I find myself underdressed for daily life in Kyoto, as I notice the owner’s crisp bow tie against his pressed white shirt.
In Japan, it is easy to feel a bit underdressed or too casual. That is, unless you are Japanese.
To begin this morning’s lesson in the art of coffee, the master first begins by taking my coat. He then proceeds to take it with care to the coat rack in the back of the shop and hangs it neatly on the rack, the only coat in the house.
I am then offered a warm, wet cloth, neatly and neatly rolled, to clean and freshen my hands, before he pulls out my chair and seats me at the counter. I am presented with my menu, formally with two hands, which reads all in Japanese. Fortunately, for me, the owner’s English is much better than my Japanese.
“You, first time Kyoto?” he asks.
“Actually, I am living here for one year.” I respond “Kawaramachi and Shin machi dori”. These are the streets near my house just around the corner.
“Oh, you Teach English?” he askes
“No, I am taking one year to learn Japanese arts and culture…..Chado, Shodo, Sum i e painting.”
“Ahhhhhhh., why you choose Japan?”
“Because I love Japanese people and culture.”
“I envy you.” he says.
“What do you recommend for best coffee?” I ask.
“You like dark, citrus, medium.”
“Maybe citrus,” I say.
“Ok, you try Tanzania.”
“Sounds good.” I say.
Once we settle on Tanzania, I begin my careful observation and begin taking notes.
The first step is to precisely measure the beans for one cup and then place them into the grinder. The grinder is also set to exact precision and accuracy.
Once the beans have been precisely ground, a seemingly careful thought process is given to selecting exactly the right coffee cup. No two cups are alike and so it feels as if there is some special meaning behind the cup that has been selected for me. It appears to be fine dinnerware and it is a simple cup in its presentation with a blue stripe with gold trip. This is now my standard for the perfect coffee cup.
The Master then carefully pulls out a single drip filter that has been engineered to precisely fit the mug exactly. He then takes out a paper filter and proceeds to do an origami-like folding technique which fits the paper into the ceramic filter like a glove.
For the next step in this process the Master begins heating the water. He explains that the water must be heated to exactly 83 degrees. Not 84 degrees, not 82 degrees, but 83 degrees.
“This is very, very important. Not to miss.” he says.
Upon reaching the perfect temperature of 83 degrees, the Master moved in graceful motion to precisely grasp the silver pot. Like a sensei of Tea Ceremony, he proceeded to artfully pour the water in perfect swirls around the ground coffee beans creating a bubbling cloud of coffee which resulted from the water being at the precisely correct temperature. He repeated this process three more times like a Zen archer handling his bow with exact mindfulness.
After the cup was filled near the brim, the Master placed it perfectly onto the saucer without a single drop being spilled. A warmed silver cup of warmed cream was placed alongside. The Master never said a word. It was moment of Zen for both of us.
He left me in silence to mindfully take in this perfect presentation and contemplate the lesson I had just experienced.
Notes:
The Mindful Art of Japanese Coffee
Corazon Cafe
Teapot water into pitcher
83 degrees
Grind roasted beans
2-3 scoops into filter
hot water into cup
drip over pitcher
Middle pour one loop
Let filter
2nd pour middle to one loop rest
3rd pour rest
4th poor rest
5th pour rest
6th pour done
pitcher onto burner to hear
Coffee beans good 2 weeks
Tanzania
Columbia
Guatamala
Indonesia
Corazon blend
Costa Rica
Zen and Ink Journals represents hundreds of hours of writing over the past decade, sometimes from a train in remote China or a coffee shop in Kyoto, a hammock in Costa Rica or a simple cabin on a mountain in Boquete, Panama.
Zen and Ink Journals is a simple offering of words in the hope of inspiring others to a simpler, more mindful way of life in these chaotic times. I invite you join me each month on the journey for a glimpse of the larger world, reflections on living more simply and quietly amidst the chaos of our modern world.
Please consider foregoing a cup of coffee each month and becoming a monthly subscriber.
If you would like to support Zen and Ink as a Founding Member or prefer a one-time Donation you may select the Founding Member option and enter any amount you choose. Please know your gift carries a ripple effect in the world and helps sustain the journey.
For more information and ways to connect with me, visit my website at Zen and Ink
Zen and Ink was born over a decade ago out of my own personal journey to find peace and tranquility amidst the ever-increasing chaos of our modern world. In the last ten years, the pace of our modern world has only accelerated and we have moved further out of sync with nature and the rhythm of our souls. Zen and Ink offers a quiet space for anyone along their journey seeking more balance and Zen in their daily lives.
Zen and Ink provides an oasis for those who are drawn to a slower and simpler way of life; to provide a portal for awakening, tools and resources that many will find useful in their own quest to find the Zen which is already there and always within and around each of us.
