A guide to Hong Kong’s bitter herbal teas and how Gen Z is reviving the health tradition

In the first instalment of a four-part Health Matters series on traditional Chinese medicine, Lisa Cam and Ashlyn Chak explore how a new generation of health-conscious youth is discovering century-old leung cha and helping neighbourhood tea shop owners safeguard a dying trade. Long before modern chain pharmacies and over-the-counter painkillers were readily available in Hong Kong, there were leung cha: intensely bitter herbal “cooling teas” brewed in massive brass cauldrons in traditional open-front shops. To the uninitiated, these dark, earthy, grassy decoctions served in ceramic bowls are an acquired taste at best. For generations of local workers, though, these century-old remedies have been consumed to ease sore throats, flush out seasonal “dampness” and reset bodies run down by urban stress. The stores function as everyday street clinics. Not unlike espresso bars in Italy, customers approach the counter, buy their tea, have it while standing – and leave. Unlike coffee, however, leung cha is drunk purely for functional wellness rather than taste or aroma. The practice of drinking cooling teas originated in Guangdong, a southern province of China, says Hong Kong author and food writer Lui Ka-chun. “So the tonics are usually for very southern ailments such as dampness and excessive heat, which you won’t find so much in northern China. These are home remedies from farming communities.” From mountain foragers to street corner clinics The concept of cooling tea shops started as an offshoot of traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) clinics. People who worked for practitioners gained some knowledge, then prepared and sold their own ready-to-drink remedies. Soon, enterprising hawkers began selling bowls of cooling tea on food carts. “Seeing a practitioner is expensive and sometimes drinking cooling teas can nip some conditions in the bud,” Lui explains. “It is not unlike taking over-the-counter medicine before you get really sick and have to go to the clinic to see a doctor.” He adds: “I’ve interviewed Hakka communities in the northern districts of the New Territories [in Hong Kong], and they still go up the mountains to forage herbs.” Leung cha shops proliferated in Hong Kong during the city’s industrialisation in the 1920s. “As factories started springing up in Hong Kong and people entered the workforce, they had less time to make home remedies, so it was only natural that more of these cooling tea shops opened,” Lui explains. The shops were more than just providers of these tonics – they also served as community centres. They opened where busy people congregated, near cinemas and industrial areas with a lot of factories, such as in Sham Shui Po in Kowloon. When not every household could afford a television or a radio, a tea shop was the place to go. People dropped in to listen to the news or a programme while taking a break in their busy day. It was also a common place to meet up for dates before cafes or cha chaan tengs – bustling tea restaurants serving a blend of Cantonese fast food with Western-influenced comfort dishes – were common. The cultural importance of the trade was formally recognised in 2006, when herbal tea was inscribed on China’s first national list of Intangible Cultural Heritage. According to records from Hong Kong’s Food and Environmental Hygiene Department, there were 385 Chinese herbal tea shop permits in force in the city as of late 2025 – a network that operates alongside hundreds of commercial chain outlets and Chinese medicine dispensaries. Keung Wai-kwan, 60, is the second-generation owner of the Pak Po Tong cooling tea shop, which opened on Temple Street, between Jordan and Yau Ma Tei, in 1982. Her shop, like others in the city, sells several varieties of cooling tea, all based on TCM remedies, including the popular 24 herbs and five flower teas. Because everyone’s body is different, each brew uses a distinct combination of herbs to target specific health needs and achieve different results, Keung explains. In a place like Hong Kong, where the weather is relatively humid, people generally drink these teas to remove dampness. How over-clearing ‘internal heat’ can backfire Like over-the-counter medications, cooling teas should be used as needed rather than consumed indiscriminately, Hong Kong TCM practitioner Samuel To Ching-shan says. These herbal brews are intended as short-term treatments for acute “internal heat”, rather than everyday hydration. They are best reserved for sudden flare-ups marked by systemic signs like dark yellow urine or constipation, alongside upper-body symptoms such as a bitter taste in the mouth, dry throat, swollen gums, mouth ulcers or a feverish, flushed face. Misusing cooling teas can easily strip the body of its essential yang – or internal warmth – and exacerbate underlying digestive issues. “It is entirely unsuitable to drink them if your body already lacks warmth,” To cautions. “If you frequently feel cold, have icy hands and feet, or are prone to bloating, stomach pain and loose stools, your spleen and stomach are already weak. These herbs will only deepen that chill.” The popularity of tea shops has waned over the years as factories closed, people found other places to go, and the teas started being sold in cans, bottles or as ready-mixed powders in supermarkets and convenience stores. “They have lost their spot in the community,” Lui says. “There is an abundance of places for people to hang out, and there are over-the-counter medicines for everything. The knowledge of which teas to drink for different conditions has also been lost in the younger generations. If someone drinks the wrong kind of tea for their symptoms, they will simply chalk it up as ineffective.” Several cooling tea shops in the city have recently closed – the businesses operate on thin profit margins and high turnover, making it hard to sustain as commercial rents increase. Keung, however, says this decline is not happening at Pak Po Tong. “Many long-time patrons who supported us back in the day still come back,” she says. Students who used to drop by after class at nearby schools still visit decades later. “Now, they’ve become mothers and bring their husbands and kids along.” Gen Z’s focus on wellness, too, has triggered a resurgence in the popularity of leung cha, she adds. “Surprisingly, more young people are coming now. Over the past few months, I’ve noticed that young people are super health-conscious. Maybe through the internet and various sources, they know [leung cha] is good for them. [These new customers] are in their twenties, and they’ve already built a solid health foundation. Some people come regularly as a form of health maintenance.” Just as an established restaurant owner is not threatened by instant meals or fast-food chains, Keung does not see commercially sold home-brew packets or large chains selling cooling tea as her competition. “First off, your recipe is different,” she says. “Secondly, ours is freshly brewed. Freshly brewed versus machine-manufactured are two completely different things, totally distinct. “We start at around 6am, brew it until about 10am or 11am, then it gets delivered here to us. So ours is 100 per cent made in Hong Kong, with absolutely no additives at all.” Keung concedes that many traditional tea shops face a problem: if they are family-run, they often find the next generation unwilling to take over. Other traditional shops in Hong Kong, such as goldsmiths, are disappearing one by one because the children are not interested in continuing the businesses. Keung is proud that her 26-year-old son, Li Ming-hin, continues to work at Pak Po Tong. “I told him I don’t believe this trade is a sunset industry or that it will fade away,” she says. “Because wherever there are people, or wherever there’s this humidity, there’s a need for cooling teas. The demand will naturally be there.” Popular leung cha offerings – ingredients and benefits 24 herbs tea (ya sei mei): A potent, intensely bitter blend of up to two dozen medicinal plants designed to clear severe internal “heat” (yit hay) and toxins. Five flower tea (ng fa cha): A milder, naturally sweeter floral infusion – traditionally including kapok, frangipani and honeysuckle – used to clear summer heat, detoxify the liver and soothe throat irritation. Hemp seed drink (fo ma yan): Made from roasted hemp seeds blended with sesame and almonds into a sweet, nutty drink known in TCM for aiding digestion and relieving constipation. Self-heal spike tea (ha fu chou): A cooling, slightly bitter herbal tea made from Prunella vulgaris, targeted at clearing “liver fire”, relieving eye strain or headaches, and soothing swollen glands. Turtle jelly (gwai ling gou): A firm, dark, herbal jelly traditionally made with powdered turtle shell and cooling herbs, eaten to nourish yin and clear toxins. Many modern shops now offer a plant-based version. Turtle tea (gwai ling cha): A liquid decoction featuring similar cooling, detoxifying herbs as turtle jelly, brewed into a drink for relieving internal heat. Like what you read? Follow SCMP Lifestyle on Instagram. You can also sign up for our eNewsletter here.

A guide to Hong Kong’s bitter herbal teas and how Gen Z is reviving the health tradition

.css-1c6uqr6{color:inherit;font-weight:inherit;font-size:inherit;font-family:inherit;line-height:inherit;overflow-wrap:break-word;}These century-old ‘leung cha’ cooling teas for ailments such as excess internal heat are finding new fans among health-conscious Gen Z

These century-old ‘leung cha’ cooling teas for ailments such as excess internal heat are finding new fans among health-conscious Gen Z