Matcha Kitchen Lisboa · для команди бару
What we sell, why it costs this much, and what to say.
We do not fix the menu: drinks and food change, we test and remake. We experiment.
We want it to feel like you came into someone’s kitchen, not to a service counter. Warm, light music, curtains.
We play: half‑jazz, soul, light funk, light hip‑hop with vocals, melodic techno. Calmer in the morning, closer to evening a bit more energy. Never: chart pop, rock, heavy hip‑hop and nothing that sounds like a spa.
WHAT MATCHA DO WE HAVE?“Isn’t it just green tea?” Not really. Normal tea you brew and throw away the leaves — you drink the infusion. Matcha is the leaves themselves, stone‑ground into powder, and you drink them fully. Also, in the last three to four weeks before picking, the bush stands in the shade, so the plant makes more chlorophyll and amino acids: brighter color, softer and sweeter taste than normal green tea.
“Why is it expensive?” People pick it by hand, only young top leaves, from a bush that gave less harvest because it stood in the shade for a month. Then they grind it on stone mills that give about forty grams per hour. And also how much we put in: 3.5 grams per serving where most use two. Handmade cookies. Real Belgian chocolate. Real fruit purée instead of flavored syrup. There is nowhere to secretly save money here.
“Is your matcha not bitter?” Good matcha is a bit sweet, and bitterness is in the background, not the other way round. If it is really bitter, there are usually three reasons: culinary grade instead of ceremonial, water too hot, or it just stood too long — matcha fades, loses bright color and starts to taste bitter. We buy small batches so it does not get old. Try ours; if you do not like it — we will remake it.
“Where is it from?” From a farm near Kyoto. And we did not find it in a catalog — Alina, the owner of this place, is obsessed with matcha: she went to Japan, stood on that farm and made a deal with the farmers herself. Now we are tasting matcha from several high‑grade farms to build our own selection — same as people build a wine list.
3.5 grams is a lot of matcha, so about 100–120 mg of caffeine: about two espressos, not one. It works differently — matcha has L‑theanine, which smooths the peak, so instead of a jump and a fall you get three to four steady hours. People who shake from coffee usually feel fine with matcha. But when they ask about pregnancy, children, or how much per day — say the number and let the person decide. We do not give medical advice.
| What | What you say |
|---|---|
| Collagen | Marine collagen in peptide form — already broken down, so the body can absorb it, unlike normal gelatin. People take it for skin, hair, nails and joints. This is fish: an allergen, and we say this before they ask. Not for vegetarians or vegans. |
| Spirulina | Algae. Gives a color that nothing else can give, and brings antioxidants. Stop there. |
| Lion's Mane drops | A mushroom people take for focus and clear mind. |
| Protein | We have a drink with protein and peanuts. Say “with added protein” — it adds to the daily amount, it does not replace it. |
| Milk | We can make anything with coconut, oat or lactose‑free milk. |
| Sugar | By default we do not add it — we ask. And it is not exactly sugar, but our own syrup. Fruit syrup is real purée, ninety percent fruit, so it does not keep for long. |
| Coffee | Yes, specialty. We are about matcha, but we should not force anyone to drink what they do not want. |
European rules allow only approved health benefit claims in everything commercial — menu, screens, packaging, Instagram. A spoken answer to a direct question is a much softer zone, but the rule is the same and simple.
Describe the ingredient, do not promise a result. “We add marine collagen in peptide form, people take it for skin and joints” — this is okay. “Collagen will make your nails stronger” — this is a promise, a health claim. And always finish with an honest line: this is a supplement, not medicine.
Nothing about health effects ever goes into text — not in the menu, not on screens, not in a post caption — until it is checked.
The drinks on our three screens are shot close‑up. This is the standard: what leaves the station must not look different from what is on the wall. The guest sees the photo, orders, gets the drink — and if it matches, they take out the phone. If not — they say nothing and just do not take a photo.
Layers, color, foam height, clean cup outside, straw put in right. No one takes a photo of a cup with fingerprints, no matter how good the drink is.
The line is simple: the guest changes the drink, not the barista. The first makes us flexible; the second would destroy the standard.
The difference between good and bad is not how pushy you are, but how precise. “Anything else?” is a question that is easiest to answer with “no”. A clear tip from a person who knows the product feels like care.
One time. If they say “no” — the topic is closed: a second try ruins the whole visit. Not during a queue. Food — almost to everyone, matcha to take home — only to those who already showed they liked it: took a photo of the drink, said something nice, asked about matcha, or came a second time.
Minimum: greeting, waiting time, name at pickup. Silence here is the service.
One sentence more than the minimum — a tip or a couple of words about the drink. Then follow their lead.
Here everything works: story of matcha, the place, the owners, matcha to take home, review, photo. There are five to ten such guests per shift, and they grow into everything else.
People leave reviews when someone asked at the right moment, and there is only one right moment: the guest just showed they are happy. First a small talk, make sure they liked the drink, and then — “if you enjoyed it, it helps us a lot, we just opened; will you leave a few words on Google?” There is a QR on the counter so no one has to search.
Google bans reviews received in exchange for something. Motivated reviews get deleted in bulk, and they can limit the profile — and we will lose not only these reviews, but the rating we worked for. For a place with no history this is deadly. You can give a cookie to a guest who already wrote a review — but only if you did not promise or mention it before. With Instagram it is different — it is fine to reward people for tagging us there.
| Guest takes photos of the place | Great. Show our page, ask for a tag. |
| We offer to take a photo of the guest | Only with permission, and we give the photo to them. |
| We want to post the guest | This is a separate permission. Shooting and posting are two different consents. Best option — the guest posts themselves and tags us. Children — only with parents’ consent. |
If you do not know — do not make it up and do not brush it off. Say you will check, check and then write the question in the team chat. In a month there will be about twenty of them, and they will become the next version of this document. A place where guests’ questions just vanish learns only from reviews — that is too late.