Mugicha (麦茶, roasted barley tea)

Mugicha begins with barley roasted darker than you expect, almost coffee-colored, but it asks for none of coffee's ceremony. This is the house drink of a Japanese summer, cold from the refrigerator, poured again and again because it has no caffeine and no sweetness to tire the mouth.

The first secret is water. For the clearest roasted aroma, pour boiling water over the barley or simmer it briefly, then stop. Heat opens the grain fast, but too much time pulls out a dusty, harsh edge. The second secret is the dose and the steep: enough barley to smell nutty and round, not so much that the pitcher tastes like wet toast left overnight. A tea bag is not a shame here. Many are made for mugicha, and the good ones are simply roasted barley in a paper coat.

We serve mugicha cold because that is when it does its work best. It sits beside rice balls at a picnic, a bento on a hot day, or nothing at all except a glass with condensation on it. No sugar. Nothing hidden. Just barley, water, and the quiet relief of something made ahead.