The Kaori teas in a row, each pouch standing above the leaf, flower or grain it is made from

The expression of the leaf.

Kaori means aroma.

It is the first thing that meets you: before the colour of the tea, before the taste, before the cup is lifted. It is found in the warmth of roasted leaves, the floral clarity of jasmine, the grain-like depth of genmaicha.

Kaori begins there.

We make whole-leaf tea powders for people who want tea in its most complete form. Each tea is selected for the character that comes from its origin, then milled with restraint so that character arrives intact in the cup.

Whole dried tea leaves before milling

The selection

A tea is never separate from where it grows.

Our selection moves across tea regions with distinct points of view: hojicha and genmaicha from Japan; oolong and black tea from Taiwan; Ceylon from Sri Lanka; jasmine from Vietnam; rooibos from South Africa.

We look for teas with a clear identity—aroma, structure, and flavour that need no embellishment.

The collection keeps growing, and a tea joins it only when it brings a new expression to Kaori.

A mill, with tea powder gathering at its lip

The mill

The milling is not a finishing touch. It is part of the making.

Whole tea leaves are milled into an exceptionally fine powder, one that keeps the tea’s character while giving it a texture designed to dissolve smoothly.

Nothing is steeped, and nothing is strained away. The entire leaf becomes part of the cup.

Kaori powder in a stoneware bowl beside a bamboo whisk

The whisk

Every Kaori tea is finished in the bowl, by the person who drinks it.

It needs only a little powder, a little water and a few seconds with the whisk. The surface gathers into a fine, soft foam, and the aroma rises to meet you first.

It is the smallest of ceremonies, and no two hands make it quite the same way.

A bamboo whisk drawing circles through the foam of a hojicha latte

Made for the everyday

A well-made tea should be worthy of attention, without demanding too much of it.

Kaori is for the quiet precision of a daily ritual: a moment of aroma, colour, and texture that can be made your own. Served simply, with water or milk, warm or cold, it begins with the same thing every time.