Taipei, through the glass
From centuries-old tea traditions to a new generation of cafés and bars, Taipei’s beverage culture resists a singular narrative. These practices unfold in parallel—shaped by ritual, craft, and a distinctly modern sensibility. While the Taiwanese capital is so often defined by its street food and night markets, venturing past the plate reveals an equally textured perspective.
This selection brings together a handful of such spaces, each opening a different way into the city.
Ainsi Thé
At Ainsi Thé, a thoughtful curation of locally sourced teas is presented with clear regard for provenance. The space embodies a subtle reinterpretation of tradition, where familiar practices are refracted through a more contemporary lens.
I find myself lingering over a pot of Dayuling, a high mountain oolong whose warm, creamy profile rests gently on the palate. The session settles into a leisurely rhythm, the pours measured and deliberate. Curiosity leads me further to their vintage selection: a pot of 1980s Spring Buds pu-erh. On the first sip, an earthy aroma rises—deep, grounding, faintly suggestive of an old house. Every steeping feels like a reward, the expression growing more layered.
For all its refinement, Ainsi Thé softens what might otherwise feel like an intimidating ritual. Those behind the bar speak with quiet authority, touching on origins and character as well as the many ways a tea might be taken beyond the cup.
Liquide Ambré
Elsewhere in the city, tea takes on a different register. Up a narrow flight of stairs, Liquide Ambré opens into an elegant interior anchored by a sweeping red lacquer table. Drawing from the visual language of traditional tea rooms, the design is immersive from the outset. The omakase format is structured around a choice of set menus, from introductory selections to more in-depth explorations.
A welcome drink soon arrives: a brisk black tea that offers a gentle counterpoint to the warmth of the day.
The tasting begins with the Jade Oolong from Songbolin in Nantou—light and delicate, with white floral notes and a silky finish. The Oriental Beauty follows, its signature honeyed sweetness giving way to ripe fruit and a soft, muscat-like aroma. From there, time slows, punctuated by bites of longan and spoonfuls of aiyu jelly. Liquide Ambré holds its stillness carefully, asking for nothing more than presence.
Noon
Amid a steady stream of new openings, Noon has earned its place among industry insiders and loyal regulars alike. At its core is a coffee tasting program built around a focused roster of beans, roasted in-house with remarkable consistency. The experience unfolds as a concise three-part progression, moving through elemental expressions of black coffee before arriving at a final course with a more creative bent.
Although the tasting course is the centerpiece, the counter remains open throughout, baristas moving fluidly between pour-overs and espresso-based classics. On my most recent visit, I settled into an iced Colombia, with notes of blackberry and brown sugar lending it a rounded depth. A slice of buttered toast with honey—simple, understated—a fitting accompaniment.
Kikumo Abies
Some addresses reveal themselves only to those not looking. Tucked into a residential street in Zhongshan, Kikumo Abies offers a brief reprieve from the city’s pull.
The interior is spare: a fresh vase of flowers, a single paper lantern. Vinyl turns in the background, and conversation, if there is any, happens in hushed tones. There is something innately personal about the atmosphere, like being in the living room of a friend with fine taste.
The menu asks no more of you than the space does—no tasting program, only very good coffee. I default to a familiar order: an oat milk latte with a slice of burnt Basque cheesecake. Kikumo Abies doesn’t demand attention. It earns it, gradually, the way few places do.
Astēa
Not every bar in Taipei measures a good evening in units. Astēa’s menu is deliberately tight, compositions lighter in spirit, some alcohol-free entirely, reframing what the act of drinking can be. What’s on offer is less a compromise than a considered point of view.
Organized around a seasonal tea list and a selection of classics such as negroni and amaretto sour, every drink takes its character from a specific tea varietal, the choice of which shapes everything from aroma to finish.
A gin and tonic grounded in Jin Xuan, a Taiwanese green tea, brings umami, seaweed, and a whisper of silk to something you thought you already knew.
Landed
Taipei’s wine scene is still finding its footing, but there are those already coming to define what that could look like. At Landed, the answer feels personal.
Its three founders, all alumni of the publishing world, gravitated toward a different kind of story—one told in bottles rather than pages. Along an unhurried stretch of Songshan, what they built reflects that spirit entirely: warm, low-lit, and possessed of a personality far larger than its square footage suggests.
Spanish wines feature prominently here, and the Ximénez-Spínola Fermentación Lenta—a dry white made from Pedro Ximénez, a grape better known for Andalusia’s richest Sherries—is a characterful example of why. Structured and revelatory, it is exactly the kind of discovery this place excels at.
What sets Landed apart is the thought behind the bottle. To read through the curated list is to follow a story, a single protagonist moving through a made-up arc, each wine a new chapter. It is a clever, deeply felt idea: that a menu, like a good book, might take you somewhere.
Indeed, Taipei’s beverage culture resists any singular narrative. And that, perhaps, is precisely the point. What these places share, beyond craft, is a certain quality of presence—felt in the drink, in the company, and in the moment.
