A warm, 75-degree Friday in late September calls for only one thing: a fresh, crisp matcha latte, cold as ice, from my favorite cafe. With a recently sprained ankle, a fresh Smith College Board of Trustees direct deposit and a dream, I hobbled down to Familiars Coffee & Tea.
Matcha boasts a rich history that predates the modern latte, introduced in the 12th century by a Zen Buddhist monk returning to Japan after studying in China. Over the centuries that followed, brewing and consuming matcha developed into a meditative practice closely related to Buddhist spirituality: the Japanese tea ceremony, or chanoyu. In recent decades, culinary-grade matcha has risen in popularity and spread across the globe by way of ice creams, baked goods and the matcha latte.
Nine dollars is a diabolical amount to pay for a non-alcoholic beverage in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Yet, here I am to say that with my oat milk and hazelnut syrup additions, my matcha latte at Familiars came out to a whopping nine dollars and ten cents. Humbling, indeed. After toppling down the stairs in the CC this week, however, such humility is not foreign to me. It left me with a hole in my heart only an overpriced drink could fill.
Familiars has my favorite matcha latte in town (at least for now). It is delicious, well whisked, has that rich green color and boasts a solid milk-to-matcha ratio. Their hazelnut syrup was the perfect amount of sweet and nutty, and really brought out the umami in the matcha. It was subtle, but notable. One of my favorite things is when a cafe plays with add-ins that can specifically complement the flavor profile of matcha. Now, hazelnut is kind of genius because it’s a classic coffee accoutrement, but I could tell when I was drinking it that it has been finding its true voice in matcha.
I have to go ahead and give Familiars’ matcha latte 4.5 out of 5 leaves. That .5 deduction is of course, for the price, and because while it is consistently good, I lately find myself feeling that it’s missing something I can’t quite place. Maybe I should start getting whole milk again. Overall, it’s kind of like the Cutter-Ziskind Dining Hall of matcha lattes — reliable and consistent.
Here’s the bottom line: a bad matcha on a bad day can be the straw that breaks the camel’s back; a good matcha on a bad day can make it at least an okay day. If my day has taken a turn for the worse, (and I don’t mind blowing nearly two thirds of my hourly wage) I know Familiars’ matcha can always step up and be that girl.
