In the mountainous region of Yabakei Town in northern Oita Prefecture—where rugged rocky mountains and clear streams intertwine—lush green tea fields stretch out. Tetsuya Kawatani, the second-generation owner of “Kawatani-en Tea Farm,” oversees every aspect of the business here, from tea cultivation to sales. He was the first person west of Shizuoka to be awarded the title of “Tea Sage” and is recognized as a leading figure in Oita’s tea industry.

Cultivating tea on mountain land as part of a government initiative

The history of tea production at Kawatani-en began in Showa 49. Originally, Mr. Kawatani’s grandfather primarily engaged in mountain work, such as charcoal burning and shiitake mushroom cultivation. Then, around the time his father took over the family business, a government initiative led to the introduction of tea cultivation. Recognizing that the mountain work of his grandfather’s generation yielded low profits, Mr. Kawatani’s father began cultivating the newly cleared land, which marked the start of the family’s involvement in the tea industry. Initially, they cultivated only three or four varieties, including “Yabukita,” which accounts for approximately 70 to 80 percent of Japan’s tea fields. However, after Mr. Kawatani entered the industry and studied tea varieties extensively, he began sourcing various cultivars. As a result, the farm now cultivates a total of eight varieties: seven main varieties—Saemidori, Asatsuyu, Asanoka, Harumidori, Yabukita, Okumidori, and Sakimidori—plus a small amount of Benifuki.

The Challenge to “Asatsuyu,” Which Even Experts Vehemently Opposed

Among them, there is one variety that symbolizes Mr. Kawatani’s passion for tea cultivation. It is “Asatsuyu,” also known as “Natural Gyokuro” for its overwhelming umami and vivid green color. To experts, growing this extremely delicate and cold-sensitive variety in Yabakei—where winters are bitterly cold—seemed “reckless,” and he reportedly faced fierce opposition even from the researchers at the experimental station. Nevertheless, Mr. Kawatani believed in the potential of tea nurtured by Yabakei’s natural environment and took that first step.

“My father was still in good health at the time, but the fact that the professor flatly told us, ‘It’s impossible,’ actually ignited our rebellious spirit—that was one of the reasons we decided to go ahead with cultivation,” says Mr. Kawatani.

Kawatani-en is located at an elevation of approximately 550 meters. While areas with significant temperature fluctuations between day and night are considered ideal for tea cultivation, if it gets so cold that frost sets in, the leaves will be ruined. Kawatani-en lies right on the edge of that ideal range, and the tea plants do occasionally suffer frost damage. However, Mr. Kawatani explains, “Tea leaves grown in harsh environments develop into mellow, fragrant buds of exceptional quality.” The characteristic of Asatsuyu tea—its sensitivity to cold—can also be viewed as the potential to accumulate incredible sweetness and richness once it survives a harsh winter. Adversity, in other words, gives rise to the depth of its flavor.

A Commitment to Fertilizers That Build on Tradition and Have Evolved Through Science

Alongside his exploration of tea varieties, Mr. Kawatani has devoted his efforts to soil cultivation. Good soil is essential for growing high-quality tea. And while fertilizer—which provides nutrients—is indispensable for creating good soil, in his father’s day, perilla seed cake, rapeseed meal, and fish meal were each spread separately on the fields, and a nitrogen fertilizer called ammonium sulfate was applied separately to promote new growth. However, as the cultivation area expanded and Mr. Kawatani took sole responsibility for fertilization, he realized the difficulty of handling everything separately. That’s when he came up with the idea of mixing all the materials together from the start to create a single fertilizer. Around the same time, his father told him, “You can do whatever you like with the fertilizer’s ingredients,” which served as a turning point, and about five years ago, he took the plunge into creating his own blend.

The formula Mr. Kawatani arrived at incorporates two major innovations. The first is the use of fish meal and bone meal—which contain fish innards and bones—instead of the conventional fish trimmings. He explains that this is to infuse the soil with complex minerals and umami compounds. The second is the addition of liquid nitrogen at –196°C to the fertilizer to supplement the nitrogen essential for plant growth. The result is Mr. Kawatani’s unique blended fertilizer, composed almost entirely of organic materials.

Furthermore, he has incorporated “Soluble,” a liquid fertilizer, to promote the sprouting of new tea buds. Soluble is an organic liquid fertilizer rich in minerals and amino acids, made by concentrating fish broth. Mr. Kawatani says he feels the depth and richness of the tea’s flavor have changed compared to the ammonium sulfate he used previously. “However, Soluble does have a strong odor. Since it’s made from simmered fish broth, if it gets on your skin, it won’t come off no matter how much you wash it for about two days. If it gets on your hands, the taste is so strong that everything you eat will taste like it,” Mr. Kawatani said with a laugh.

While cherishing tradition, each cup of tea from Kawatani-en—refined through scientific curiosity—embodies the harsh climate of Yabakei and Mr. Kawatani’s unwavering determination to overcome its challenges.

The Art of Hand-Kneading: A Dedication to Continuity

Kawatani-en also offers hand-rolled tea. This hand-rolled tea, which is produced entirely by hand without the use of any machinery, is said to have been devised in the mid-Edo period by Nagatani Sōen, a tea merchant from Uji, Kyoto. The process takes approximately six hours: after steaming the tea leaves to soften them, the tea master stands for the entire duration, manually loosening, rolling, and kneading the leaves before drying them to complete the process. The finished tea leaves are long and slender, like needles, and because they are not subjected to excessive force by machines, they are said to return to their original shape when placed in hot water. The color of the brewed tea is extremely pale, and while a milky white hue is considered the highest quality for hand-rolled tea, when sipped, a rich umami flavor spreads across the palate that is unimaginable given its pale color. Due to the labor-intensive nature of the process, mass production is impossible, and because it requires highly skilled craftsmanship—leading to a dwindling number of tea rollers—hand-rolled tea commands an extremely high price when it reaches the market.

Mr. Kawatani first encountered hand-rolled tea at the age of 19, after graduating from high school, while training as an intern at the National Research Institute of Agricultural Sciences. One of his fellow trainees there was Tsuyoshi Nakajima, who would later win the national hand-rolled tea competition eight times and become the first person in Japan to be awarded the title of “Perpetual Tea Master.” The two men, who were the same age, honed their skills through friendly competition, and eventually, Mr. Kawatani also began competing in the contest. In 2011, he won the Minister of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries Award (First Place) and was awarded the title of “Tea Sage”—the first person from west of Shizuoka to receive this honor.

Why does Mr. Kawatani continue to produce hand-rolled tea, a labor-intensive process that cannot be mass-produced? The answer lies in his regrets from the past. He has missed the competition twice. The first time was when he suffered a sudden back spasm on the morning of the hand-rolling event; the second was when he began to feel a sense of resignation about continuing the practice. However, Mr. Kawatani says that for every moment of relief he felt from skipping the competition, he felt about 50 to 60 moments of regret, thinking, “I really should have participated after all.” It’s not about the results of the competition; it’s about doing the hand-rolling to intuitively confirm the quality of that year’s tea—the fact that skipping the competition actually made him realize the true significance of hand-rolling is what continues to drive Mr. Kawatani toward hand-rolled tea to this day.

“Tea that truly tastes like tea”—all in a single cup

In addition to hand-rolled tea, Kawatani-en offers a wide range of products, including sencha, deep-steamed tea, and hojicha—many of which were developed in response to customer feedback.

The flavor Mr. Kawatani strives for is “tea that truly tastes like tea.” When people talk about “delicious tea,” they often tend to focus on teas with a strong sweetness, and many people in general also describe such sweet teas as “delicious.” Mr. Kawatani himself once went through a phase where he relentlessly pursued sweetness, as if to respond to that sentiment. However, he could not shake his doubts about continuing to compete in that market, so he changed his approach. He sought a flavor that was not merely sweet, but also featured a crisp astringency and a refreshing finish. Setting that taste as his ideal, he arrived at the premium deep-steamed tea “Midori.” “Midori” is also the first tea he processes each year. Since he compares it with the previous year’s batch to find a blend that satisfies him, it takes at least two weeks from the time the new tea leaves are picked until the product is ready for sale. In today’s world of advanced logistics, where tea shops near the production areas can sometimes have products on the shelves just 3 to 5 days after picking, two weeks may seem extremely long—but it is the very embodiment of Mr. Kawatani’s dedication.

On the other hand, despite having long decided “not to make it,” there are some products we’ve added to our lineup after giving in to customer requests. One such product is genmaicha. While green tea is typically sold in packages of 50g or 100g, genmaicha is often sold in large quantities, such as 500g or 1kg. With that much on hand, once you buy genmaicha, you end up drinking nothing but genmaicha for quite a while, and your opportunities to drink green tea decrease—in Mr. Kawatani’s words, you get stuck in a “negative genmaicha loop.” Although he had maintained a firm stance against making genmaicha out of concern for this, after receiving passionate requests, he came to the conclusion, “Why not just use the brown rice we grow ourselves?” and decided to produce it.

The result is a product named “my Genmai.” What surprises you when you open the bag is that there isn’t a single green tea leaf inside. Literally, it contains “nothing but brown rice” that has been carefully roasted until fragrant and crisp. He deliberately avoids mixing it with green tea. This “aesthetics of subtraction” has created a level of freedom that overturns conventional wisdom about genmaicha. If you want to enjoy it as genmaicha, you’ll need to prepare the green tea yourself. With “my Genmai,” Mr. Kawatani’s concern that “people will drink less green tea once they start drinking genmaicha” has been resolved. Furthermore, by proposing new ways to use it—such as in salads or ochazuke (rice topped with tea) instead of croutons or rice crackers—the product has effortlessly transcended the traditional image of genmaicha. He has also developed a stick-type powdered genmaicha that dissolves in both hot water and cold water, which has also been well received.

Powdered tea is being adopted by gelato shops in Tokyo and chiffon cake classes in Chiba, among other places, leading to the development of a new consumer base that extends beyond simply drinking it. “The fact that it’s not limited to just drinking makes me feel that tea is still a product with a lot of potential,” Mr. Kawatani said, his eyes narrowing in a smile.

I want to raise the level of play in Kyushu and develop young players.

When it comes to famous tea-producing regions, Shizuoka and Sayama (in Saitama Prefecture) are the first places that come to mind. The name “Oita” rarely comes to the forefront. Mr. Kawatani candidly admits that if he were growing tea in the heart of one of those major producing regions, he wouldn’t stand a chance against the competition. “I’m confident that, in Kyushu today, I’m the only one capable of producing hand-rolled tea of this caliber. However, when it comes to national tea competitions, there are times when I simply can’t compete. At times like that, I’m painfully aware of just how far Kyushu still has to go,” says Mr. Kawatani. Of course, Kyushu does have cities like Yame and Ureshino that rank highly in national tea competitions. However, that’s in categories other than hand-rolled tea. When it comes to hand-rolled tea, they fall far short of regions like Sayama. 

That is precisely why Mr. Kawatani is so committed to raising the standard of tea production in Kyushu and nurturing the next generation of tea makers. To enter tea competitions, one must belong to a national organization, but since Oita Prefecture lacks such an organization, Mr. Kawatani himself belongs to an organization based in Yame, Fukuoka Prefecture. There is a young person in Yame who is currently developing his skills. A project to revitalize the Kyushu hand-rolled tea community—a collaboration between Mr. Kawatani and this young person—is now getting underway. Mr. Kawatani earnestly envisions a future where each prefecture in Kyushu nurtures one tea producer capable of making a name for themselves nationwide, and where Kyushu producers consistently win top prizes at tea competitions.

Hearing the words “That’s delicious” fills me with energy

My father, the founder of Kawatani-en, passed away in 2022. While he was alive, he had a goal of “doing what I can at 80 percent effort,” but now that I’m handling the family business entirely on my own, I’ve come to realize all too well that I have to give 100 or even 120 percent just to keep up. It’s by no means easy. However, every time I hear fellow industry professionals or customers say, “Kawatani-en’s tea is delicious,” I feel a surge of energy. The market is changing rapidly, and there’s no single “right” path, but he will continue to experiment flexibly—including with flavor profiles. Mr. Kawatani describes this mindset as “the battle continues until the tea reaches the customer’s mouth.”

The reality is that, under pressure from bottled green tea drinks, an increasing number of tea producers are giving up on selling loose tea leaves and shifting toward factories dedicated to beverage production. However, Mr. Kawatani takes issue with this trend. “I went to school and studied tea in depth, didn’t I?” he says. Unlike vegetables, the retail price of tea is unlikely to experience a major collapse. If that’s the case, there must be a way for the farmers who grow the tea leaves—not the wholesalers or company presidents—to turn a profit. He has consistently maintained this view, calling on his colleagues: “There must still be a way for producers to succeed. Let’s figure it out.”

During a training program after high school graduation, he and his classmates joked about a shared dream: “Let’s make it big enough that we can all drive Mercedes-Benzes to our class reunion.” It has been about 25 years since then. That dream has now deepened into a desire to “make money together, be happy together, and bring happiness to everyone around us as well.” He wants to bring happiness to people through tea production. Mr. Kawatani’s tea continues to be produced today in the mountain tea fields, born from that very passion.

The post The simple phrase “It’s delicious” is what drives his tea cultivation. Tetsuya Kawatani of “Kawatani-en Tea Farm,” Nakatsu City, Oita Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.