Cultures fused,
one cup at a time.

Karak and doodh patti pulled the slow way. Noon chai in a clay matka, samosas out of the fryer, maggi after dark. Poured under the lanterns on Eshelman Ave.

See the menu Find the shop →

The walls

Four cultures, painted onto Eshelman Ave.

We painted them ourselves, before we'd sold a single cup. Nobody made this on their own — so we gave each of them a wall.

Mural of a chai wallah pushing his cart past a domed mosque — **South Asia · the cart** Chai as most of the world drinks it was built on the street, by the wallahs — leaves, milk and sugar boiled together and pulled into a small glass. Karak and doodh patti, on Qissa Khwani in Peshawar, where the tea was only ever the reason to sit down.

Mural of a woman pouring qahwa from a brass dallah under hanging lanterns — **The Middle East · the counter** Coffee became a drink in Yemen and a public one in Arabia. The qahwa khana came before every café that followed it — a room you went to for the talk. We pour qahwa from the dallah the same way: cardamom, a little cinnamon, small cups, no rush.

Mural of a woman at a tea table beneath a hanging lantern — **East Asia · the tea house** The plant itself is Chinese, and so is the idea of a house built around it. Every leaf in this shop — the jasmine pearl, the green, the black under the milk — comes down from that one plant and the thousand years spent learning how to treat it.

Mural of a cherry blossom tree in bloom on a pink hillside — **Japan · the whisk** Japan took the leaf, ground it to powder and made the making of it the point. Ceremonial matcha, whisked not brewed, under the blossom — the reason our matcha is measured out properly instead of scooped.

Catering

Chai for the whole room.

Boxes of chai that stay hot, platters that empty fast. Ten guests or three hundred — pick what you want, tell us the date, and we'll send you a proper quote to look over.

48 hours notice, ideally more for large orders Free pickup in Lomita, or delivery for a fee Nothing is charged until you approve the quote

See catering →

Mural of a chai wallah pouring tea from a copper kettle beside his cart

Our story

It started on Qissa Khwani.

A chai wallah on the Storytellers' Bazaar in Peshawar, a samovar kept just under the boil, and a kettle that never got a chance to go cold.

For more than a century those tea houses poured qahwa for the caravans coming down through the Khyber Pass — cardamom, a little cinnamon, small cups, and whoever was talking that night. That's where we learned it. So we opened a small place in Lomita, painted the walls ourselves, and put the same things on the board: karak and doodh patti pulled the slow way, qahwa, chapli off the griddle and into pressed sourdough, noon chai in a clay matka. Coffee too, on a Vittoria roast, for the half of the room that needs it. Sweeten it however you like — sugar's on the counter.

Come pull up a stool →

Find us