A Quiet Island in My Day

Tenkujima did not begin as a business plan.

That would make the story sound far more organized than it actually was.

It began with tea, food, work, travel, and a growing feeling that modern life had become very good at making people move quickly, but not always very good at helping them feel present.

I grew up in Canton, where food was never just food. It was part of daily life, part of family, part of conversation. Dim sum in the morning. Tea after meals. The sound of hot water meeting tea leaves. The small rituals that somehow made an ordinary day feel complete.

I did not think of it as anything special back then. It was just life.

Only later did I realize that those small rituals had shaped the way I understood food and drink. A good cup of tea was never just about taste. It was about taking a moment. Sitting down. Paying attention. Sharing something simple.

And, on some days, using tea as a respectable excuse to avoid doing something more stressful.



The First Matcha Moment

I first had a real matcha moment in New York in 2016, at 29B Teahouse.

Before that, I had seen matcha here and there, usually in the form of very green desserts or drinks that tasted as if someone had introduced sugar to grass and hoped for the best.

But this was different.

The matcha was vivid, smooth, and deeply green. It had umami. It had freshness. It had a gentle bitterness that made the whole thing feel alive. More importantly, it had quietness.

The powder was measured. The water was added. The tea was whisked. The foam slowly formed.

Nothing was rushed.

In New York, that alone felt almost rebellious.

That cup stayed with me. Not only because it tasted good, but because it made me pause. For a few minutes, the world felt slower. Cleaner. More focused.

I did not know it then, but that was the beginning of my long relationship with matcha.



Life in Midtown

After graduation, I worked in finance in Midtown Manhattan.

Finance taught me many useful things: discipline, precision, resilience, and the unique ability to drink coffee while reading emails that should probably have been meetings, and attend meetings that should definitely have been emails.

It was rewarding in many ways. I learned a lot. I worked with smart people. I became better at handling pressure.

But city life has a strange rhythm.

Wake up. Work. Coffee. Meeting. Deadline. Another coffee. More emails. Another meeting. Walk past several excellent restaurants and eat something sad at your desk. Repeat.

At some point, I started to wonder whether being constantly busy was really the same as moving forward.

I loved New York. I still do. The city has energy, ambition, and a kind of beautiful madness that is hard to find anywhere else.

But it is also loud.

Not just in sound, but in speed. In pressure. In expectation.

And I began to feel that I needed something quieter to return to.



The Cliffs of Skye

My wife and I have always loved to travel. We travel for landscapes, food, craft, culture, and the small details that remind you the world is much bigger than your calendar.

In 2023, we went to Scotland.

On the Isle of Skye, standing before the cliffs, the sea, and the endless sky, I felt something I had not felt for a long time.

Stillness.

Not the kind of stillness where you put your phone on silent and then immediately check it to make sure it is still silent.

Real stillness.

The cliffs were enormous. The wind was dramatic. The sea looked ancient. The sky seemed completely uninterested in human problems, which was oddly comforting.

For a moment, everything felt simple.

No inbox. No deadline. No rush.

Just nature, scale, silence, and a feeling that life did not have to be lived entirely at the speed of a Midtown elevator.

That moment stayed with me.

And slowly, it became the emotional beginning of Tenkujima.



Why Tenkujima?

Tenkujima means “island in the sky.”

The name was inspired by that moment on the Isle of Skye, but to me, Tenkujima is not really about a place you visit. It is about a place you create.

A small island in the middle of the day.

A pause between meetings.

A quiet cup before the noise begins again.

Most of us cannot escape to a cliff in Scotland whenever life gets overwhelming. Sadly, airlines have not yet made that convenient, and rent continues to exist.

So I wanted to create something more practical.

A daily ritual.

Something beautiful, simple, and grounding.

For me, matcha became that ritual.

It gave me energy, but not the frantic kind. It asked for attention, but not perfection. It brought together nature, craft, taste, and calm in one small bowl.

That was what I wanted Tenkujima to share.



What We Make

At Tenkujima, we make matcha for modern life.

Not as a trend.

Not as a green accessory for people who already own too many tote bags.

But as a quiet daily ritual for people who live fast, think deeply, and still want to feel connected to something natural.

We care about balance: vivid color, smooth umami, low bitterness, and a clean finish. We want our matcha to feel refined, but not intimidating. Beautiful, but not precious. Premium, but still meant to be enjoyed every day.

You can whisk it with water when you want something pure and focused.

You can make it into a latte when life requires softness, milk foam, and a little emotional support.

Either way, the idea is the same.

Take a moment.

Make the cup.

Let the world slow down, even briefly.



A Quiet Return

I created Tenkujima because I believe small rituals matter.

A cup of matcha will not solve every problem. It will not answer your emails, lower your rent, or make Monday mornings suddenly charming.

But it can give you a pause.

A real one.

A few minutes to return to yourself before stepping back into the noise.

That is what Tenkujima is for.

A cup of nature.

A quiet island in your day.