Damai Cha

Whole barley grains dry-roasted in a pan until dark and nutty, then simmered into a clear, caramel-amber infusion that smells of toasted bread and tastes gently of caramel, served steaming hot or poured over ice

Origin: China

From the journey of Barley.

Roasted barley tea belongs to a quiet but ancient family of grain infusions drunk across East Asia, a region where barley (Hordeum vulgare) long predated tea as a daily drink in the cooler, drier north. The Chinese 'damai cha', literally 'large barley tea', is the parent of the better-known Korean boricha and Japanese mugicha, all of them caffeine-free brews made by roasting whole grain until dark and steeping or simmering it in water. Barley reached China along the same early routes that carried wheat westward out of the Fertile Crescent, and it took firm root in the millet-and-wheat farming of the north, where its hardiness suited a short growing season and poor soil. As a beverage, roasted barley water carried a gentle reputation in the folk and medical traditions of the region: it was thought cooling in summer and settling to the digestion, a humble drink for ordinary days rather than a ceremonial one. The roasting is everything. Raw barley yields a thin, grassy liquid, but barley toasted to the colour of dark coffee gives up deep notes of caramel, toast, and roasted nut, the sugars of the grain caramelising under dry heat. The result is a clear amber infusion of no caffeine and great comfort, drunk hot from a flask in winter and served chilled, almost like a soft drink, through the heat of summer.

Ingredients

Tea

  • 60 g whole hulled barley grains (pearl barley also works)
  • 1.2 litres water

To serve

  • 1 pinch honey or sugar, to taste (optional)

Method

  1. Place the barley in a dry frying pan or wok over medium heat. Do not add any oil or water. Roast the grains, shaking and stirring almost constantly, for 8 to 12 minutes.
  2. Continue until the grains are a deep, even reddish-brown, the colour of dark coffee beans, and the kitchen smells strongly of toast and caramel. A few grains may pop or split, which is normal. Tip them out of the hot pan at once to stop the roasting.
  3. Bring the water to the boil in a saucepan. Add the roasted barley, reduce the heat, and simmer gently, uncovered, for 10 to 15 minutes. The water will steadily deepen to a clear caramel amber.
  4. Strain the tea through a fine sieve into a jug or teapot, discarding the spent grain. Taste, and sweeten very lightly with honey or sugar only if you wish, though it is traditionally drunk plain.
  5. Serve hot in winter, poured straight from the pot. For summer, cool the strained tea to room temperature, then chill it thoroughly and serve over ice as a refreshing, caffeine-free drink.

Notes

You can roast a large batch of barley at once and store it in an airtight jar, ready to brew by the cupful; many households keep a jar of pre-roasted grain on hand. The same method underlies Korean boricha and Japanese mugicha, and the spent grains, far from being waste, are perfectly edible and pleasantly nutty. For a deeper, slightly bittersweet character, a small handful of roasted maize is sometimes added alongside the barley, a common practice in the wider East Asian family of grain teas.

The Gastrographer

The Gastrographer

Mapping Culinary History

To explore — select an ingredient below.

Journey Point Map Key

Ingredient originTrade or transit route
Became a culinary stapleColonial / trade control
c. 1600s
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1600 CE
10000 BCE2800 BCE1000 BCE1600s
Barley

Barley

Hordeum vulgare

Grains & LegumesGrain

🌍Origin

Fertile Crescent — c. 8000 BCE

🌱Domestication

Barley (Hordeum vulgare) is amongst the very earliest plants taken into cultivation by human beings, and the archaeological record places its domestication in the southern Levant at approximately 10,000 BCE, in the same arc of hills and valleys where wheat, lentils, peas, and the fig were first grown. Its wild ancestor, Hordeum spontaneum, grew in dense, self-seeding stands across the whole sweep of the Fertile Crescent, from the Jordan Valley north through the Taurus Mountains of Anatolia and east into the Zagros ranges of Iran, and it remains a common weed of disturbed ground across that region to this day. The transformation of this wild grass into a crop turned on a handful of inherited changes that the earliest farmers could fix within relatively few generations of patient selection. The most consequential was the loss of the brittle rachis: in wild barley the ripe ear shatters and scatters its grain to ensure the plant's survival, whilst the domesticated form retains a tough rachis whose grains cling to the stalk until the harvester cuts them, so that the crop could be gathered whole rather than gleaned grain by grain from the ground. To this were added reduced seed dormancy, so that the grain germinated reliably when sown, and a larger, plumper kernel that repaid the labour of cultivation. Barley was, in all likelihood, domesticated more than once and in more than one place along this broad range, which accounts for the striking genetic diversity of the early Near Eastern cultivated barleys and for the long scholarly argument over whether there was a single cradle or several. From the beginning the grain came in two architectures that would shape its entire culinary history. Two-row barley (H. vulgare subsp. distichum) carries fertile grain on only the central spikelet of each node, yielding fewer but plumper, more uniform kernels prized for malting and for bread. Six-row barley (H. vulgare subsp. hexastichum) sets grain on all three spikelets, giving a denser, higher-yielding ear better suited to bulk grain production and animal feed. Both forms appear together in the earliest agricultural deposits of the Near East, each favoured in different regions and for different ends, and the distinction between them, between the brewing and baking grain and the heavy-cropping feed grain, runs forward through ten thousand years to the global barley industry of the present day. Unlike wheat, barley tolerates poor, saline, thin, and acidic soils, ripens in a short season, and endures both drought and cold; it was therefore the grain that could be grown where wheat failed, from the salt-burdened fields of late Mesopotamia to the short summers of the Tibetan plateau and the cold maritime north of Europe.

Global Voyage

Barley was amongst the first cereal grains to travel out of the Fertile Crescent, carried by the slow demographic spread of Neolithic farming peoples and by the exchange of seed corn between settled communities, and its journey traces the very skeleton of the Neolithic agricultural revolution. By approximately 8,000 BCE it was firmly established across Anatolia, where the deep deposits of sites such as Çatalhöyük preserve the charred grain in quantity. By 6,000 BCE it had reached the Nile, where it became one of the twin grain pillars of Egyptian civilisation alongside emmer wheat, and it had spread across the Iranian plateau and eastward into the Indus Valley, where it underpinned the granaries of the great cities of Harappa and Mohenjo-daro. It moved north and west into Europe with the first farmers, reaching the Balkans by approximately 6,500 BCE and, after a long passage up the river valleys and along the Atlantic seaboard, the British Isles by approximately 4,000 BCE. In the cold, wet, acidic, and short-summered lands of the far north it came into its own, becoming the dominant bread grain of Scotland, Scandinavia, and the northern isles precisely because it ripened and yielded where wheat could not, tolerating maritime damp, thin upland soils, and frost. A separate and equally consequential movement carried barley eastward. From the irrigated lands of Mesopotamia and Persia the grain spread along the corridors that would later carry the Silk Road, into Central Asia and ultimately to the roof of the world. On the Tibetan plateau, at altitudes where rice, wheat, and maize all fail, barley alone could be grown to ripeness, and there it became not merely a staple but the very substance of daily life, roasted and ground into the tsampa that is eaten at every meal and carried on every journey. Eastward still it reached China, Korea, and, by the Yayoi period, Japan, where it took its place alongside rice as mugi, the grain of the cold-water tea and the mixed barley rice of the frugal household. In every one of these destinations barley arrived as a hardy, dependable, secondary grain that could be sown where the prestige cereal, whether wheat or rice, was too tender to thrive, and in each it accumulated its own distinct culinary identity. The grain's last great migration came with the European colonisation of the Americas in the early sixteenth century. Spanish, and later English, settlers carried barley seed across the Atlantic from the first voyages, but on a continent already provided with maize it never displaced the indigenous grain as a primary staple food. Its enduring colonial significance lay instead in the brewhouse: barley was, from the earliest settlements, the malting grain of the New World, and the establishment of an alehouse was reckoned a necessity of colonial infrastructure. From a wild grass of the Levantine hillside to the malt house of Massachusetts, the barley field of Orkney, and the high pastures of Lhasa, barley travelled with humanity as the grain of last resort that became, again and again, a grain of first importance.

🍽Modern Culinary Role

Barley occupies three distinct modern roles that are very largely invisible to one another, three parallel lives lived by a single grain. As a food grain it is fundamental to a handful of specific regional traditions whilst remaining marginal to the global table: tsampa in Tibet, sattu in Bihar, the barley breads of the Ethiopian highlands, the cool barley teas of Japan and Korea, and the pearl barley that thickens the soups and stews of Lombardy, Scotland, and Central Europe, from orzotto to Scotch broth to the cholent of the Ashkenazi Sabbath. As a malting grain it is the single most important ingredient in the global brewing and distilling industries, for it is barley's particular endowment of starch-converting enzymes, released when the germinated grain is kilned into malt, that turns starch into the fermentable sugars on which beer, ale, malt whisky, and barley wine all depend; no other cereal malts so reliably or so well. As a feed grain it is, by volume, the fourth most cultivated cereal crop on earth after maize, wheat, and rice, and the great majority of the barley grown today never enters a human kitchen at all but is fed to cattle, pigs, and poultry. The grain's nutritional standing has risen markedly in recent decades. Its high content of soluble beta-glucan fibre, which has been shown to lower LDL cholesterol, has positioned barley as a functional health grain in markets where oats had long held that ground, and hulled and pearled barley, barley flakes, and barley flour have returned to the wholefood shelf. The New Nordic kitchen of Copenhagen and Stockholm has rehabilitated it as a fashionable ancient grain, and the craft brewing and single-malt distilling revivals have made the variety, terroir, and malting character of barley a matter of serious culinary and agricultural interest for the first time in generations. Of all the ancient grains, barley has the most intimate and ancient relationship with fermentation, for it stood at the foundation of brewing several thousand years before the grape was pressed into wine, and it remains, in the glass as much as on the plate, the most quietly civilising of the cereals.

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