We curate the world of tea, so you can discover it one moment at a time.
A story about a moment worth sharing, and the discovery behind it.
The afternoon
I grew up on strong coffee. Ours was that kind of household — dark espresso roast, made properly, taken seriously. Tea was not something we thought about.
Then I spent a year in Germany after high school, and discovered Kaffeetrinken — the afternoon put aside for a thick slice of cake and a cappuccino, taken slowly, in no particular hurry to be anywhere. A few blocks from where I stayed there was a café in a converted house, the living room turned into the bar and the garden into a patio. It became a special place for me. Not because of what they served, but because of what an hour there felt like.
One afternoon, I didn’t feel like having a cappuccino. I wanted something lighter, so I ordered a breakfast tea instead.
It was extraordinary. Not good for tea — extraordinary on its own terms. I’d spent my life believing tea was flavourless. It turned out I’d simply never had a quality leaf.
That afternoon changed everything. Not the tea alone, and not the hour alone — the two of them together. A room built for lingering, and something in the cup worth lingering over.
Coming home
I returned home from my time abroad and couldn’t find it anywhere.
There were cafés, and there was tea in them. But nobody was serving tea worth the attention, and nobody had built the kind of room where an afternoon could be spent that way on purpose. The two halves existed separately here, and neither was much good without the other.
That absence didn’t fade. It sat with me through university classes as a recurring daydream — what would this tea company look like? How would it feel?
Paris, and a name
Years later, a trip to Paris turned the daydream into a vision.
We spent an afternoon at a storied French tea house called Mariage Frères, where tea is treated the way France treats wine and perfume — sourced with obsessive care, blended and scented as a craft, given exotic names from some far-off destination. And then we sat down for a French tea service, right there in the middle of it all. It was the first time the idea had a look.
The other half came from the boulangerie. A baguette sandwich, a pastry or two, a bottle of wine from across the street, and a bench in the park. That was the proof: fine food, taken slowly, isn’t an accompaniment to the experience. It is the experience.
We spent that trip strolling The Marais — a quarter of Paris built by the aristocracy, and inherited by the common man. Grand, cobbled, inspiring yet unintimidating. Our dream for the world of fine tea embodied in the story of a neighbourhood.
Our dream takes shape
Back in our hometown, we’d found a small tea company tucked into a garden centre — Aromatica Fine Teas, run by a couple close to retirement, with tea genuinely as good as anything Germany had served me a decade earlier. I became a customer, and then a regular.
Two years after Paris, I asked them what their retirement looked like.
Suddenly, I owned a teashop.
What we took on was the best of what they’d built — a quality tea selection, and a community of people who valued a moment worth savouring. What we built around it was a room where likeminded people could find one.
The invitation
We take the difficulty on ourselves — the sourcing, the tasting, the crafting — so that what arrives in front of you is ready to be enjoyed. Each tea carries the story of its origin, so you taste the romance of its history in every cup.
At Marais Tea Company, our desire is for you to enjoy a moment.
A moment of reflection.
A moment of connection.
A moment of celebration.
A moment of discovery.
Whether you’re at home, at work, or in our café, we invite you to find your moment.
You don’t need to know the vocabulary, or have a developed palate, or even a reason.
Curiosity is the only thing you need to bring.
Ethan Maarhuis
Founder — Marais Tea Company