Run your hand through it — or tilt your phone
HempTcha

Nothing to explain to anyone.

Hemp leaf, brewed like green tea. Cold. In a can. For the bar, the table, and the hour you actually need it.

I don't need your category. I have my own.

Join the panel Bright Hour · Green Hour
The drinksBright Hour · Green Hour
The leafOrganic, European
CaffeineNone, naturally
First runLondon, autumn
Why it exists

Hemp leaf tea existed. In a bag. On a shelf. Never in a glass at nine o'clock.

I.

The leaf was never the problem

Hemp leaf brews like green tea. Always has. The problem was never the plant. It was the occasion.

II.

The glass was missing

Loose leaf is a kitchen ritual. You wanted something to order out loud at a bar — cold, canned, poured — without a speech.

III.

So we made two hours

One for the afternoon reset. One for the evening reward. Same leaf. Different appointment with yourself.

Cold. Green. Poured.

Keep scrolling. You're pouring.

Three in the afternoon

Bright Hour

Iced hemp leaf tea · 250ml

Cold, clear and unmistakably green. Cut grass and white peach first, a twist of citrus behind it, then a finish that goes dry and clean instead of sitting sweet on the tongue.

Brewed like a proper tea, chilled hard, canned. Named for the post-lunch dip — the hour the body runs low on its own clock, lunch or not. Nothing in it you'd have to look up.

Bright Hour is the drink you finish before you've decided to.

Bar line: "Bright Hour — iced hemp leaf, cold and dry."

ResetFastAfternoon
Move through it. Green Hour doesn't rush.

Slow. Green. Reward.

Stone-ground, matcha style — never quite still.

Eight in the evening

Green Hour

Hemp matcha, ready to drink · 250ml

Pale green-tea gold, faintly rounder than Bright Hour. A soft creaminess through the middle, and a long grassy finish that stays with you.

Stone-ground leaf, whisked and canned. Named for the hour Paris used to stop work and pour something green.

Green Hour is the ritual. Bright Hour is the reset.

Bar line: "Green Hour — stone-ground, shaken, in a coupe."

RewardSlowEvening
Bright Hour, second by second

What actually happens when you drink it.

Press and hold the glass. It only pours while you're paying attention.

0s
Press & hold
0s

Cold, then green

The chill lands first. A half-second later the whole thing goes green — cut grass, wet stems, the smell of a garden after rain.

2s

White peach

Something soft and stone-fruity arrives underneath and rounds off the edge. This is the part people don't see coming.

4s

A twist of citrus

It lifts and sharpens across the middle of the tongue, the way good iced tea does when there's lemon nearby.

6s

Dry, and gone

No sugar hanging around, no film left behind. Just a clean grassy echo — and the reason you reach for it again.

Green Hour has its own pace. Six seconds isn't enough.

How to pour it

It deserves a glass. Give it one.

Three pours. One sentence each. The bartender gets the credit.

Bright Hour, over one large cube

A tumbler, a single big piece of ice so it doesn't water down, a strip of lemon peel across the top. The citrus in the leaf comes forward and stays there.

Green Hour, in a coupe

Shake the can hard, pour it cold and unhurried into something with a stem. It holds a fine head for about a minute. That minute is the point. Mini whisk on the napkin beside the glass — not in the drink. Give it three turns if you want.

Either one, at the bar

Both sit on a back bar and get ordered by name — "Bright Hour" or "Green Hour," never "the hemp drink." That's the test.

Before you commit

Honestly — is this for you?

Not for wellness optimisers. Not for people who want to perform sobriety. Not for anyone who needs to give a TED Talk at the table. If you like tasting what's actually there — you'll get it. If you need it explained every five minutes — you won't.

DelicateGreen & grassy
DrySweet
LightFull & creamy
Drink it fastDrink it slowly
Bright Hour
Green Hour

Not for everyone. Perfectly fine with that.

Go on, ask

The four questions everyone asks first.

Is this a CBD drink?

No. It's hemp leaf, brewed like tea. Nothing extracted, nothing dosed. If you're looking for milligrams, you're in the wrong section of the shop.

Will it change how I feel?

No. It's the leaf, brewed like tea. Nothing in here alters you — it's a drink, and it's meant to be a very good one.

Where can I drink it?

Anywhere you'd drink a fine tea. A hotel bar, a dinner table, your own kitchen at eleven at night. Nothing to explain to anyone.

What's it actually like?

Green. Properly green. Far closer to iced tea and matcha than to whatever you are currently picturing.

Everything else — the farms, the leaf, how it is made and how it is classified — will be written out plainly before the first run ships.

For bars

Two SKUs. Back-bar pour. Ordered by name.

Regulatory clean — hemp leaf infusion, not CBD. No Novel Food application required. No compliance conversation at the point of sale.

Bright Hour

Iced hemp leaf, cold and dry. Afternoon reset. Tumbler, one large cube.

Green Hour

Stone-ground, shaken, in a coupe. Evening reward. Pour holds a head for a minute.

Trade enquiry One-pager (PDF coming)
The panel

The first run is small. There is a panel.

A limited batch, London, this autumn. Panel first — then a short list of bars we've chosen ourselves. You won't find it in a fridge by the tills.

  • First claim on the first run, in the order you joined.
  • An invitation to the London tasting — Bright Hour and Green Hour, side by side, properly cold.
  • The sentence to use in the group chat: "Had HempTcha at [bar]. Worth trying." (And the address, when we're ready.)

One email when it is ready. Nothing else, ever.

Running a bar? Trade enquiry →

No. —
Your place on the panel

Every friend who joins on your link moves you up four places. The people at the front drink it before London has heard of it.