Hidden Gems in the World of Tea: Rare Brews You Must Try in London

London’s tea culture isn’t just about Earl Grey and PG Tips. Beneath the surface of the city’s countless cafés and afternoon tea rituals lies a quiet revolution-tea lovers are rediscovering rare, forgotten, and deeply regional brews that have nothing to do with the standard tea bag. If you’ve only ever sipped from a porcelain cup at Harrods or Fortnum & Mason, you’re missing out on a world of flavour that’s been hiding in plain sight: in back-alley tea houses in Shoreditch, family-run importers in Camden, and even the back shelves of independent grocers in Peckham.

Tea That Doesn’t Come from Assam or Ceylon

Most people think of tea as black, green, or herbal. But the world’s tea traditions stretch far beyond India and China. In London, you can now find Yerba Mate from Argentina, served hot in ceramic gourds at The Tea Room in Notting Hill-no sugar, no milk, just the earthy, grassy punch that Argentinians drink all day. It’s caffeine-rich, packed with antioxidants, and pairs surprisingly well with a slice of sourdough from Bread Ahead.

Then there’s Kombucha, but not the fizzy supermarket kind. In Hackney, Tea & Kombucha Lab ferments their own using organic Chinese oolong and local elderflower. Their batch aged in oak barrels for 45 days tastes like a cross between cider and a wild forest-slightly tart, subtly sweet, and alive with probiotics. It’s not tea in the traditional sense, but it’s the kind of drink Londoners who’ve moved beyond coffee are now ordering by the pint.

The Forgotten Tea of the British Isles

Before tea became an imported luxury, the British drank what grew around them. In the 18th century, people in the Lake District and the Scottish Highlands brewed Heather Tea from the flowering tops of wild heather. Today, Heather Honey & Tea Co. in Edinburgh ships small batches to London, and you can find them at Borough Market on Saturdays. Brew it like black tea-three minutes, no milk-and you’ll taste honeyed smoke, a hint of lavender, and the crispness of a Highland breeze.

Even more obscure is Nettle Tea, once a staple in rural English homes for its anti-inflammatory properties. Now, Wild Tea Co. in Richmond harvests young nettle leaves from Hampstead Heath and dries them in the sun. It’s not bitter like you might expect-it’s clean, slightly metallic, and calming. Many Londoners with anxiety or joint pain have switched from chamomile to nettle tea, especially during the damp winter months.

Tea from the Edge of the World

Most tea shops in London stock Japanese matcha and Taiwanese oolong. But the real treasures are the ones you have to hunt for. In a tucked-away unit in Walthamstow, Tea from the Edge imports Shanxi Brick Tea from China’s northern mountains. It’s compressed like a dark chocolate bar, aged for years, and brewed in a clay pot. The flavour? Smoky, mushroomy, almost like lapsang souchong but deeper-like drinking a forest after rain. It’s sold by the gram, and a single brick lasts six months if you’re careful.

Then there’s Red Bush Tea (Rooibos) from South Africa, but not the kind you get at Tesco. Tea & Co. in Notting Hill sources single-origin, hand-processed rooibos from the Cederberg region. It’s sweeter, less astringent, and has a natural vanilla note. It’s caffeine-free, perfect for evening sipping, and the shop even offers a tasting flight with wild honey from the Lake District.

Where to Find These Teas in London

You won’t find these brews in chain cafés. You need to know where to look:

• Tea & Tonic (Clerkenwell): Specialises in rare Chinese pu-erh and fermented teas. Ask for the 2015 aged sheng-only 12 tins left.
• The London Tea Company (Soho): Offers monthly tea subscriptions with obscure varieties like Guizhou White Hair Silver Needle-a delicate white tea from a single mountain village.
• Camden Tea House: Run by a retired Iranian tea master, they serve Saffron Chai made with real Persian saffron, cardamom from Oman, and raw honey from Kent. It’s £8 a cup, but it’s the only place in London where you can taste chai the way it’s made in Isfahan.
• Borough Market (Saturday mornings): Look for the stall with the handwritten sign: ‘Tea from the Himalayas’. They sell Khukuri Rum Tea-black tea leaves soaked in Nepalese rum and sun-dried. It’s strong, sweet, and smells like a winter campfire.

How to Brew Them Right

These teas aren’t meant for the microwave. Each needs its own method:

• Brick teas: Break off a walnut-sized piece. Boil water in a clay pot, pour over, and steep for 5 minutes. Strain through a fine sieve.
• Heather tea: Use 1 tsp per cup. Water at 90°C, steep 4 minutes. No milk-it masks the floral notes.
• Nettle tea: Steep for 7 minutes. Add a slice of lemon if you like brightness. Best drunk warm, not hot.
• Kombucha: Serve chilled. Don’t shake the bottle-it’s alive. Pour gently into a glass.

Invest in a gooseneck kettle. You don’t need a £300 one, but a £50 Breville with temperature control makes a difference. Water too hot? You’ll burn delicate white teas. Too cool? You won’t extract the depth of a pu-erh.

Why This Matters in London

London is a city of immigrants, and tea is one of the few things that crosses borders without losing its soul. A Somali woman in Peckham makes her own Qishr-a spiced coffee-tea hybrid with ginger, cardamom, and crushed cinnamon. A Vietnamese expat in Wembley sells hand-rolled Trà Sâm Đất (earth ginseng tea) from her kitchen. These aren’t trends. They’re traditions, quietly kept alive.

When you sip a cup of Shanxi brick tea in a quiet corner of a Shoreditch café, you’re not just drinking tea. You’re tasting a thousand miles of mountain trails, centuries of trade, and the quiet resilience of people who brought their rituals here-and kept them alive.

Next time you’re tempted to grab another Earl Grey from the supermarket, pause. Walk into a tea shop that doesn’t have a logo on the window. Ask the person behind the counter: ‘What’s something you’ve never seen anyone else drink here?’ They’ll show you something you didn’t know you were missing.