By Dr. Steffen Schwarz, Coffee Consulate
There is a peculiar irony in the coffee business: we have spent more than a century perfecting how we roast, grind, extract, foam, chill, carbonate, nitrogen-infuse and brand a seed, while the plant that produces it has been standing all along as a far larger, greener biomass—photosynthesising, defending itself, interacting with shade trees, fungi and insects, and repeatedly regenerating its canopy after pruning. The leaf is the coffee plant’s true working organ: an engine of carbohydrates and a chemical laboratory that negotiates sunlight and drought, pests and pathogens, growth and recovery. And yet, in most producing countries, coffee leaves have been treated as little more than compost, mulch, or a nuisance swept aside during canopy management. That is now changing, and not simply because the world enjoys novelty. Coffee leaf tea is emerging at the intersection of ethnobotany and modern food law, of phytochemistry and sensory design, and—most importantly for decision makers—of farm economics and operational resilience.
Coffee leaf infusions are not an invention of the wellness era. They are older than espresso, older than filter coffee, older than the first international coffee prices. In several coffee-producing regions, leaves have long been infused, decocted, mixed with milk, or combined with spices and herbs to create beverages that sit somewhere between nourishment, social ritual and folk medicine. The scientific and cultural value of this heritage is easy to underestimate, especially if one’s mental map of coffee begins at the port and ends at the café. Yet the ethnographic record is clear: leaf-based coffee drinks have been prepared and consumed in places as varied as Ethiopia, South Sudan, Indonesia, Jamaica and India, often under local names that signal not a substitute for coffee, but a beverage category of its own.
In Ethiopia, coffee leaf brew is widely known in multiple regions and languages—Chemo, Kuti, Hayta Tuke, Kitel Buna—each name carrying the weight of daily habits and community meanings. The leaves are not merely steeped; they are processed through cleaning, crushing or chopping, boiling, spicing, straining, serving. The result is a drink that can be mild or intense, pale gold or deep brown, lightly herbal or richly aromatic, depending on leaf maturity, drying, brewing time, and the chosen constellation of botanicals.
One of the most detailed recent documentations of these practices comes from the Gofa Zone in South Ethiopia, where Eyasu Yohannis and colleagues recorded indigenous coffee leaf brew and a related preparation called Engere, a blend of coffee leaf brew and cow’s milk. Their work does something crucial for our industry: it moves the conversation away from vague stories of “traditional use” and towards measurable patterns of ingredients, processes and consumption. In their community-based survey, the authors found that coffee leaf brew is not an occasional curiosity; it is embedded in daily life. A majority of respondents described it as a staple, stimulating beverage, while others linked it explicitly to medicinal value and cultural ceremonies. Engere, meanwhile, occupies a different functional niche: it is widely perceived as strength-enhancing, supportive for physically demanding work, and beneficial for lactating women, postpartum recovery and stamina.
The brewing practices described in Gofa are remarkably concrete. Coffee leaves are harvested by cutting terminal portions of the plant—precisely the same anatomical zone that farm managers already target in canopy control—then cleaned and washed, crushed with mortar and pestle or a traditional wooden grinder, and boiled in water typically in the range of 85–100 °C. The documented spice and herb palette is extensive—Ruta chalepensis, coriander fruit, garlic leaf, ginger, basil, lemongrass, chilli, Ethiopian cardamom, fennel, salt—an aromatic architecture that resembles a culinary broth more than a minimalist tea. This matters because it tells us that coffee leaf beverages in their indigenous context have already undergone centuries of consumer testing: bitterness has been managed, aroma has been amplified, mouthfeel and perceived warmth have been engineered through botanical synergy.
For modern markets, this ethnographic depth is more than storytelling. It is a starting point for applied product development. The Gofa data reveal three distinct brewing logics: a combined boiling method where leaf and minor ingredients meet in one pot; a separated boiling method where components are brewed individually and combined later; and a leaf-only approach used particularly for Engere without added botanicals. These are, essentially, three different extraction strategies.
This is where Europe enters the narrative in a decisive way. Coffee leaf infusion is no longer merely an indigenous beverage; it is now a legally defined food category within the European Union. On 1 July 2020, the EU authorised the placing on the market of infusion from coffee leaves as a traditional food from a third country through Commission Implementing Regulation (EU) 2020/917. The regulatory framing is not trivial. By treating coffee leaf infusion as a traditional food under the Novel Food Regulation, the EU effectively acknowledged that a long history of safe consumption outside Europe can form part of a safety argument.
For coffee businesses, EU authorisation changes the strategic landscape. It reduces regulatory uncertainty for importers, roasters and beverage developers. It invites investment in leaf supply chains, not only for niche “novelty teas” but for scalable beverage categories: ready-to-drink formats, sparkling botanical blends, functional infusions, cold brews, and milk-based variants.
The scientific literature suggests that coffee leaves are not simply “coffee without beans”. They contain a complex set of phytochemicals, including phenolic compounds with antioxidant capacity and bioactivities that have been discussed in relation to anti-inflammatory and antihypertensive effects. A crucial commercial insight lies in caffeine itself. Many consumers want the ritual and complexity of coffee-like beverages, but with less stimulant load. Coffee leaf infusions typically contain caffeine, but the overall experience can be positioned differently from espresso-driven intensity.
However, no beverage category survives on sensory novelty alone. The deeper business relevance of coffee leaf tea lies in what it can do at origin. For decades, the coffee sector has discussed farmer income, price volatility, and the fragility of livelihoods. Coffee leaf tea, if commercialised responsibly, can shift part of this debate into operational economics: it can create an additional product stream from the same farm, using a biomass that is already generated in canopy management. That is not merely “extra income”; it is income diversification, and diversification is one of the most reliable ways to increase resilience in agricultural systems.
If we approach coffee leaf tea with the seriousness it deserves—honouring its origins, applying rigorous process science, designing compelling sensory styles, and building supply chains that reward farmers for better agronomy—we will not merely sell another beverage. We will create a mechanism through which coffee farms can become more stable employers, more productive agricultural systems, and more resilient businesses. In a world where coffee’s future is increasingly shaped by climate stress and economic uncertainty, a leaf may seem like a small thing. But in biology and in business, small things are often the levers that change the whole system.
