“The Matcha and the Machine”
It was sometime after lunch when I found myself drifting through Ginza, that strange silver district where the buildings gleam like watch faces and even the shadows feel designed. I hadn’t meant to shop. I’d told myself I was “just looking,” but you know how that goes. Two hours later and I was blinking under bright lights, arms empty but brain full — overstimulated, overexposed, and oddly disoriented.
Uniqlo had swallowed me whole. Twelve floors. Escalators that hummed like hotel lobbies. People moving in slow, curated waves. I ran my fingers across the seams of clothes I didn’t need and tried to convince myself I might one day be the kind of person who wore linen robes and slippers on weekdays. Then it was Itoya — floors of elegant nothing: pens that cost as much as meals, notebooks made from paper so soft it felt like memory. I’d picked up a small eraser shaped like Mount Fuji and held it for five full minutes, as if it might erase something in me, too.
At some point, my body just said no more. My eyes couldn’t focus. My feet were moving but not choosing. I needed a pause, something real and quiet. Something without a price tag.
I turned down a side street mostly out of instinct and ended up in front of Nissan Crossing — that glass pavilion on the corner that always feels a little too clean to be real. I’d never been inside before, but the air-conditioning beckoned. So I slipped in.
And there it was.
The Nissan Z.
It sat like it had been waiting for me — not revving, not roaring, just there, confident and still. That perfect, champagne-glass paint job caught the afternoon light in a way that almost made me forget where I was. I don’t even care that much about cars, but I couldn’t stop looking. It wasn’t a machine; it was a presence. Something about it slowed my pulse.
In the corner of the room was a small café. Minimalist, almost hidden. I ordered an iced matcha latte without thinking. The barista nodded, said nothing, and within a few moments, handed me a cup so pale green it looked like jade in winter. I sat on a bench — the kind of modern seat that feels more like sculpture than furniture — and took my first sip.
And something shifted.
Maybe it was the cold hitting the roof of my mouth, or the earthiness of the matcha cutting through the sweetness. Maybe it was the silence. But for the first time that day, I felt like I’d re-entered my own body. The noise of Ginza faded. The throb of too many decisions dulled. It was just me, the quiet, and this glowing green drink.
I sat for a long time, letting my shoulders drop. Watching the sunlight slide across the hood of that beautiful, ridiculous car. Letting the matcha melt on my tongue, sip by sip. I wasn’t in a rush. I wasn’t trying to buy anything. I wasn’t anywhere else but here.
And somehow, that felt like exactly what I needed.
Good night. Let the lights dim and the engine hum fade. You're already where you're...
Read moreCool little cafe at the Nissan dealership in Ginza. Take the escalator to the upper floor and walk to the back.
You show them a picture on your phone and they will take a picture of it with their iPad. They print out the photo on your latte foam—so cool!
You can also ask them to take a picture of yourself with their ipad. Don’t be shy, they are really nice.
For ¥500, the novelty latte foam is pretty cheap in my opinion!
They have classic hot coffee lattes and other staples like matcha lattes, etc. card or cash is ok.
There are seats for about 6-8 people? Drink your coffee quick and leave if it’s busy, but we didn’t have to rush to finish ours even though there was a...
Read moreIf you are in Ginza then no way you will miss Nissan showroom. The cafe is located in the 2nd floor of the Nissan showroom. The main highlight of the cafe definitely is the latte art. Though it’s done on machine but still it’s really amazing once you see it for the first time. The decor of the place is also great. The only issue is that the place can hardly accommodate 8-10 people at time. But if you have to be in Ginza then will recommend to...
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