Once upon a time, matcha was a niche import for Japanophiles who owned swords and anime body pillows. Now it’s the emotional support beverage of choice for every Pilates-Ars*d, Sad Girl Lit-reading, Stanley Cup-hoarding, health-optimised submissive in Dublin.
Us included.
Is it the colour? The health benefits? The aesthetic? The way it makes you feel better than everyone? Could it be that it makes you feel like you’ve got your life together after a night of hammering your liver like it was ikea furniture?
All of the above combined? Something worse? Something better?
Whatever it is, we’ve all witnessed the once-niche Asian tea become Dublin’s deoch an lae, a sort of status symbol for the chronically online and the spiritual clean girls alike.
Not everyone came willingly. As local meme merchant Giovanni Smokes so delicately puts it:
“Matcha lattes taste like shit… a guilty pleasure without the pleasure, and I’m only punishing myself by pretending to enjoy each sip.” Thought if they are to be believed they later found salvation via an unholy cocktail of matcha, orange juice, and industrial caramel pumps.
Lovin Dublin’s resident matcha girlie Alanna Burke confesses that matcha makes her feel like she’s “ better than everyone else“. Which is always part of the appeal of wellness products to some extent. She goes on to double down saying “You think half those yoga bitches are drinking magic because they like the taste? My boll*cks. And honestly? Fair. Who doesn’t want to put that ‘am I better than everyone’ TikTok sound over a video and get a hundred likes?
Proper Order’s Niall Wynn offers this diplomatic shrug,“I’d have a fairly positive opinion (of matcha) to be fair.”
Whatever your angle, since the opening of Dublin second dedicated matcha bar (Omma) there’s no denying matcha’s iron grip on the city.
If you live, laugh, love matcha, here’s where to get your green fix in Dublin.
The Holy Grail Girlies
Clement & Pekoe
50 William Street, D2
Perfectly vibrant matcha that doesn’t taste like it’s been stored under someone’s bed. Windowside stools for passive-aggressively judging tourists.
The Matcha Bar
Powerscourt Townhouse
Dublin’s first dedicated matcha bar. All the permutations a Matcha girlie could dream of, while still doing a solid classic Matcha Latte.
OMMA
48/49 Clarendon Street, D2
Run by Nastya Kharytonova, the Dublin’s answer to Matcha Mommy. Expect hyper-curated green goop that tastes like a Buddhist monk and a Pinterest board had a baby.
One Kinda Folk
8 Grattan Street, D2
Still the blueprint. This is the kind of place where everyone’s skin is suspiciously perfect. Beautiful patio, beautiful matcha, beautiful people doing their morning pages and gramming every step of the way.
Solid Green Soldiers
Brother Hubbard North & South
Capel Street / Harrington Street
These cafes were wellness-coded before wellness was a TikTok core aesthetic. Matcha lattes here are clean, classy, and come with a side of tasteful scarf energy.
Stay With Us
324B N Circular Rd, Phibsboroug
Under-the-radar but elite. A little more “soft launch your sobriety”, less “branded content farm.” You’ll feel smug ordering here, as you should.
Kaph
31 Drury Street, D2
Before matcha was sexy, Kaph was quietly making it sexy. Longstanding, unproblematic, reliable. A certified Sad Girl Safe Space™.
Fallow Speciality Coffee
8 Burton Hall Rd, Sandyford Business Park
Kind of out of town, but worth it if you enjoy your matcha paired with existential dread about suburban life.
Two Boys Brew
Phibsbrough
Their matcha is as earnest and unfussy as their clientele’s tote bags. Big chunky slice of almond cake recommended.
Shoe Lane Coffee
Tara Street & Dun Laoghaire
Perfect for pre-commute existential crises or post-Hozier-concert sobbing. Creamy, warm, will make you feel like you’re starring in your own Irish remake of Normal People.
Rustic Honey
Cherrywood Business Park
Only the finest Matcha served in a mason jar with a handle. Rustic Honey may be a suburbanite, but they know quality Matcha as well as they know baked goods.
The “Maybe She’s Born With It” Picks
Soren & Son
1 Dean Street
Known for serving matcha and beetroot lattes. You will feel like a hydrated, self-actualised Saint here, even if you spent last night rewatching The L Word with your hand in a Doritos bag.
The Cake Café
Pleasants Place,
Hidden behind a bookshop because of course it is. Great matcha, queer coded garden vibes, and enough vegan options to make you feel morally better than your ancestors.
Flat Coffee
12A St Mary’s Road
For those who know that the real Dublin girlies aren’t just hanging out in Ranelagh. Good, solid, unfussy matcha in the heart of the people.
Beanhive Coffee
26 Dawson Street
Solid takeaway option, especially if you’re trying to ‘accidentally’ get papped looking like you naturally stumbled into St. Stephen’s Green. Cute latte art for your matcha girlie heart.
Coffee Works Coffee
Lucan, Blanchardstown, Swords
Chain energy, but sometimes chain energy is comforting. Like texting your ex at Christmas. Not life-changing, but will scratch the itch if you’re stranded in a retail park.
The Wild Cards
Tea Rooms / OG Matcha
More trad, less Instagram. Go here if you genuinely respect matcha’s spiritual essence and not just because it matches your Air Force 1s.
Nana’s Tea
Bray
Super Asia Foods
Aungier Street
Bloom’s Café
Aungier Street
The Official Matcha Rules of Engagement:
Ceremonial Grade or Die Trying. If you see “culinary matcha” on the label, abort the mission.
It Should Be Radioactive Green. Beige matcha? You’re about to experience a personal attack on your intestines.
Froth Is Not Optional. A clumpy matcha is a hate crime.
Oat Milk Preferred. (Unless you’re feeling chaotic and want a full-cream matcha with a side of lactose-induced despair.)
Drink It For The Content. Even if you’re spiritually dead inside, a good matcha pic will buy you three days of parasocial validation online.
Dublin’s matcha scene is now a core part of the city’s identity right alongside overpriced pints
If you’re going to pay €5.50 to be someone, let it be someone who knows where the good green is.
Matcha up, Lovin’ers
