Oh how I love you. Fresh iced Sencha, cold from the fridge. You got me through the 102 temperatures of last Thursday. I drank so much of you, over a half gallon, that for the first time ever caffeine may have interfered with my sleep. Or maybe it was the heat. Let's not talk about that. Instead, oh, your fresh green grassy taste, with just the right astringent follow through... Mmmm. Memories of the perfect round-clipped snaking rows of tea flashing by the Shinkansen windows. Perfect.