The menu is a book. Scroll and each leaf lifts off the spine, turns in 3D, and settles the last dish on the left as the next appears on the right.
Muscovado cooked down to a smoked caramel, laddered up the glass, then flooded with cold Hokkaido milk and just-cooked tapioca.
First-harvest Uji matcha, whisked to a jade foam and poured over ice with a whisper of oat — grassy, sweet, no bitterness.
Silver-needle tips scented seven times over fresh jasmine, cold-brewed twenty hours for a clean, floral finish.
Alphonso purée and coconut cream over chewy sago, finished with hand-torn pomelo for a bright, bittersweet lift.
Charcoal-roasted oolong shaken cold with pressed white peach — toasty, juicy, and just off-dry.
Macerated local strawberries, cold milk, and a lid of lightly salted cream foam — dessert in a cup.
Ordering — and the rest of the menu — lives just past the back cover.