Tokyo: Matcha Making Class & Japanese Sweets in Asakusa

Summary

Make matcha in tokyo’s asakusa with sweets and laughter

You’ll try your hand at making matcha tea in Tokyo’s Asakusa neighborhood, guided by a local instructor who keeps things friendly and real. Taste two kinds of Japanese sweets alongside your tea, learn simple techniques (even if you’re clumsy), and share laughs with fellow travelers — all in a cozy spot that feels miles from the crowds.

Step-by-step itinerary

Day 1 — Matcha making and sweets tasting

• Arrive at Asakusa location
• Meet friendly local staff
• Learn about Japanese culture
• Participate in matcha making
• Taste two types of Japanese sweets
• Enjoy the experience and memories

Top questions

Is this matcha class in Tokyo suitable for beginners?

Yes, no experience is needed — the instructor guides everyone step by step.

Where is the matcha making class located?

The class takes place in Asakusa, a traditional area of Tokyo.

Are Japanese sweets included in the class?

Yes, you get to enjoy two types of Japanese sweets during the experience.

Is there an English-speaking instructor?

Yes, your instructor will guide you in English throughout the class.

Can infants or small children join this activity?

Yes, infants can sit on an adult's lap or use a stroller/pram during the class.

Is this matcha making experience wheelchair accessible?

Yes, the location is wheelchair accessible for participants.

Are service animals allowed at this activity?

Yes, service animals are permitted during the class.

What’s included

Your session includes hands-on matcha making with all tools provided, two types of traditional Japanese sweets to taste alongside your tea, and friendly instruction in English from a local expert right in Asakusa — no need to bring anything but your curiosity (and maybe an appetite for sweets).

What’s the experience like?

I spilled a little matcha powder on the table before we even started — not my most graceful moment, but our host just grinned and handed me a tiny bamboo whisk. The class was tucked away upstairs near one of those side streets in Asakusa where you can still hear the rattle of shop shutters and smell something sweet (maybe anko?) drifting up from below. There were only five of us, plus our instructor, Yuka-san, who wore this soft green apron and kept switching between gentle English and rapid-fire Japanese with her colleague.

Yuka-san showed us how to hold the chawan bowl — “not too tight,” she said, making a circle with her hands — and then we tried whisking. I thought it’d be easy but my arm got tired fast. The matcha itself tasted grassy at first sip, almost bitter, but then we paired it with these little wagashi sweets shaped like flowers. They melted so quickly I barely had time to notice the texture. Someone asked about the ceremony’s meaning and Yuka-san explained it’s less about rules than about slowing down together. I liked that.

We laughed when one guy tried to say “oishii” and got it completely wrong — even Yuka-san giggled. It felt relaxed, not stiff at all. The light outside was fading by the time we finished; I remember thinking how quiet everything seemed for a moment before we headed back out to the busy street. I still think about that earthy taste lingering after the last sip — kind of grounding, you know?