Ugh, it pains me to report that Dayglow, a once-shining star in the matcha firmament, has dimmed considerably.
Remember how Dayglow’s matcha lattes used to dance on all our taste buds like Jamiroquai? Those days are gone like the 90’s, my friends. You can play dress up and pretend that the 90s are back, but they aren’t… they just… just… aren’t. :(
So. Dayglow. They’ve traded their Mizuba for some Nekohama. Let’s talk about Nekohama… it’s a fine company. They seem like lovely people. And FWIW, the name Nekohama is a word the company made up. It means “cat-beach.” That’s fun. I actually really like cats and beaches… But not for their matcha.
To be fair, Nekohama isn’t awful. You could certainly do worse. I’ve never tried their “good” matcha, but the giant bag they sold to Dayglow seemed to taste and smell as bulk as the bag indicated. And (I’m going to be a little hyperbolic now) its got the grassy notes of a freshly mowed lawn and its bitterness lingers like a persistent heartache. But this part is true: It’s harsh enough that it needs sweetener to mask the rough edges—like adding sprinkles to a burnt cake.
I must give credit where it’s due: Dayglow’s baristas are still skillfully making the matcha with love and precision. They use cooler water to gently coax out the delicately balanced sweetness and umami. But as gentle as they may try… turns out, you can’t coax what’s not there to begin with.
Enough for now. You get the point. Truthfully, for most people, a matcha latte from Dayglow with a spot of honey will be lovely enough. (I mean, even Mizuba’s cafe matcha has it’s weaknesses.) But just know that Dayglow’s matcha lattes are merely a shadow of their former glory, leaving us with a bitter aftertaste in both our mouths and our hearts.
