New Tea China: When the "Starbucks of the East" touches down in LA
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In the end, CHAGEE’s story is both a tribute and a rejoinder: a tribute to 2,700 years of tea culture, and a rejoinder to the notion that global brands must flow westward to succeed.
In early May 2025, a serpentine line stretched beneath the late-morning sun outside Westfield Century City in Los Angeles. At its head, a kiosk bore a logo that conjured both tradition and modernity: the stylized profile of a Chinese woman, her coiffure drawn from the opulent headdresses of Peking Opera. Beneath that emblem—so visually akin to the crowned mermaid of Starbucks that a double-take was unavoidable—hundreds waited patiently for their first sip of CHAGEE’s “Tea Latte.” In that moment, as California’s coastal breeze mingled with the scent of jasmine and oolong, something quietly monumental was unfolding: an Eastern beverage house staking its claim in the global arena, not as a mimic, but as a re-imaginer.
Photo by I Ivan Liu
A New Contender at the Crossroads
Almost three decades earlier, Starbucks had arrived in China as a novelty. To young urban professionals, the green siren was a passport to cosmopolitanism—a place to linger over lattes, to snap café selfies, to cultivate that coveted “third space” between home and work. By 2024, however, that magic had tarnished. After twenty-six years of uninterrupted expansion, same-store revenues in China began to slip. The rituals once exotic—those languid hours in overstuffed armchairs, the macchiato as a prop for social media—felt stale in a market now hungry for authenticity. As Guo Jingming wrote in Tiny Times, a novel that captured 2008’s aspirational urban vibe: “Starbucks’ glass doors swung constantly—Eastern faces hurrying out with takeaway bags, Western faces lingering over Shanghai Daily.” That divide, once a mark of Starbucks’ cultural cachet, had dissolved. Chinese consumers no longer needed a green siren to feel “global”; they craved brands that spoke their own language.
Enter CHAGEE. Founded in 2017 by Zhang Junjie, a marketing veteran with a penchant for grand ambitions, the company declared itself the “Starbucks of the East.” That slogan carried audacity at every syllable. It carried coincidence, too: CHAGEE’s logo, like Starbucks’, features a crowned female visage—only hers is ornate with jade and phoenix motifs rather than flowing locks and twin fishtails. But the parallel runs deeper than aesthetics. Zhang wasn’t just copying a template; he was flipping it. Where Starbucks sold Western modernity to China, CHAGEE sells Chinese heritage to the world.
Brewing Heritage into a Single Cup
Every brand carries its cultural lineage; CHAGEE’s products are steeped in the heritage it’s rooted in. Take its best-selling Boya Juexian—a drink named after a tale etched into the collective memory of Chinese culture. In Lüshi Chunqiu, some 2,700 years ago, the qin master Yu Boya played his zither by imagining lofty mountains. His friend Zhong Ziqi, upon hearing the music, exclaimed that the notes “towered like Taishan.” When Boya strummed a different melody evoking flowing water, Ziqi declared it “as grand as the Yangtze.” After Ziqi’s untimely death, Boya shattered his instrument in grief, convinced no one else could understand his art. Thus was born the notion of zhiyin—a soulmate in spirit and sensibility.
Wang Zhenpeng's "Bo Ya Playing the Zither" Scroll
This legend isn’t just a marketing flourish. It encodes three truths that fuel CHAGEE’s global push. First, in ancient China, music wasn’t mere entertainment; it was a pillar of social order, symbolizing harmony between heaven and earth. Boya and Ziqi’s connection, rooted in personal taste rather than ritual, was a quiet rebellion—a celebration of individual preference. Second, their friendship defied borders: Boya, a Chu native serving in Jin, and Ziqi, a Chu musician, found common ground not through politics or language, but through a shared aesthetic. Third, Boya’s choice to break his qin was an act of agency—proof that even elites could prioritize personal conviction over social expectation. Zhang distilled that wisdom into CHAGEE’s signature beverage: Boya Juexian, or Bo•Ya Jasmine Green Milk Tea. The recipe—a deceptively simple blend of fresh tea, milk, and a hint of sugar—has been refined through seven iterations, each tweaking tea-leaf ratios and jasmine origins to hit a universal sweet spot. Over three years, more than 600 million cups have been sold, accounting for 35 percent of CHAGEE’s domestic sales. In an industry where monthly menu churn is a badge of creativity, CHAGEE doubled down on its hero drink. Why? Because great global brands don’t chase trends—they define them. McDonald’s doesn’t rotate the Big Mac; Starbucks doesn’t retire the latte. A flagship product isn’t just a SKU; it’s a cultural shorthand.
Speed and Scale: Reinventing the Teahouse Model
Where Starbucks cultivated convivial lounges, CHAGEE embraced velocity. A latte at Starbucks takes roughly three minutes to prepare. A “Tea Latte” at CHAGEE takes eight seconds. The operational blueprint is compact kiosks, slick digital ordering, and minimal seating—if any at all. Patrons order via app, pick up at speed, and carry their amber-tinted cups into the world. Zhang frames tea as “the world’s water,” a daily essential for some 4 billion drinkers. “Tea should not be a luxury ritual,” he has said; “it should be as universal as water.” By dispensing extravagant interiors and focusing on throughput, CHAGEE has trimmed costs and accelerated growth. In 2024 alone, the brand poured 1 billion RMB into marketing—outspending most rivals in China’s vibrant tea-drink sector.
This model isn’t just efficient; it’s adaptive. Starbucks’ “third space” thrived in an era when public life revolved around physical gathering spots. But in a world of remote work and on-demand everything, consumers crave convenience over ambiance. CHAGEE’s 8-second pour isn’t just a feat of engineering; it’s a bet on the future of consumption: quick, seamless, and unshackled from place. It’s Coca-Cola’s vending-machine philosophy reimagined for the digital age.
Beyond China: Trials and Triumphs Overseas
CHAGEE’s first foray beyond Asia came in 2019, with a store in Kuala Lumpur. Since then, international revenue has swelled 85.3 percent, reaching 178 million RMB in 2024—far outpacing its 38 percent overall growth. Singapore’s flagship, which opened in 2024, drew 10,000 customers in three days; one patron even planned to serve CHAGEE at her wedding. On May 8, 2025, when CHAGEE rang the Nasdaq bell under the ticker “CHA,” Singaporean store manager Shirley stood among the executives. She’d first tasted CHAGEE in Malaysia years earlier, then joined the brand when it expanded home. “That first sip felt like coming across a song you know by heart, even if you’ve never heard it before,” she said. “Now here we are, playing it for the world.” The U.S. market, though, is no tea-drinking backwater. Ready-to-drink brands like Arizona and Lipton dominate grocery aisles; coffee chains have co-opted cold-brew tea to flirt with health trends. To stand out, CHAGEE has localized deftly: a hibiscus “Golden Sunset” in California, adjusted sweetness for Western palates, and swapped its WeChat loyalty program for Apple Pay integration and DoorDash tie-ins.
But the real genius lies in its linguistic bridge-building. “Tea Latte,” “Teapuccino,” “Teaspresso”—these terms borrow coffee’s vocabulary to make tea feel familiar, while retaining the essence of Chinese craftsmanship. It’s not cultural appropriation; it’s cultural translation. While, no ascent is unblemished. CHAGEE’s reliance on its marquee Tea Latte—60–70 percent of total sales come from the top three SKUs—means a shift in consumer preference or a supply-chain hiccup could hit hard. In 2023, drought in Fujian and Anhui provinces reduced oolong yields by 20 percent, pushing raw-leaf costs up 15 percent. Climate volatility, geopolitical tensions over tea-producing regions, and regulatory scrutiny of imported dairy alternatives all loom as potential speed bumps. Cultural translation is another tightrope. To many Angelenos, Peking Opera iconography may read as “exotic décor” rather than a meaningful homage. CHAGEE’s narrative risks becoming a branding curiosity—even a caricature—if the story behind the drink remains untold.
A Final Stir
On that first morning in Los Angeles, as the sun climbed overhead and the line finally reached the kiosk window, I watched a young woman cradle her cup of “Tea Latte” like a fragile heirloom. She inhaled deeply, eyes closing as though transported to another time. Perhaps she envisioned mountain mists in Anhui, or an ancient zither’s echo in a scholar’s hall. Or perhaps she simply tasted something new—and that was enough. In the end, CHAGEE’s story is both a tribute and a rejoinder: a tribute to 2,700 years of tea culture, and a rejoinder to the notion that global brands must flow westward to succeed. If history remembers this moment, it will not be for the speed of an 8-second pour, nor the flash of a Nasdaq listing, but for planting the idea that Chinese tea, fused with contemporary ambition, can become the next great daily ritual. And for that, we may all raise a cup in quiet applause.
