High Tea at Yugen Is a Masterclass in Restraint, Balance and Beauty
High tea at Yugen is not so much a nod to tradition as it is a quiet reinvention. Everything about the experience feels deliberate and composed. From the moment you step inside, it becomes clear that this isn’t a venue that follows the script.
YTB (Yūgen Tea Bar)
The space is sculptural and surreal, with jagged, rock-like forms suspended overhead and walls cloaked in a palette of smoky greys and deep charcoal. It evokes the feeling of entering a subterranean world designed by someone with a background in both architecture and tea ceremony. There’s an otherworldly stillness to it, as though you’ve stepped into a landscape that hasn't quite finished rendering. It’s eerie, elegant and completely transportive.
Guests begin with a choice of a glass of Champagne or a chilled house-made drink, depending on your preferred path. The Champagne option is $130 per person. The non-alcoholic version is $115. A gentle way to ease in before the food takes centre stage.
Then comes the centrepiece. Yugen’s high tea arrives all at once on a striking three-tiered stand, which rotates like a lazy susan. Each item is meticulously presented, from the precise folds of mochi to the glistening sheen on a Hokkaido tart. The sense of occasion is immediate, but it never tips into formality. It’s elegant, but never uptight.
The savoury tier offers a harmony of textures and flavours. A smoked trout taiyaki, shaped like a tiny fish, is filled with crème fraîche and fresh herbs. There’s a caramelised Spam onigiri, rich and slightly sweet, that lands somewhere between comfort and curiosity. The Kung Pao chicken sandwich brings a subtle kick, while the ramen egg salad sandwich is soft, savoury and satisfying. A roasted carrot tartlet with whipped feta offers contrast and freshness, and the semi-dried tomato bagel with cream cheese and yuzu ties it all together with a citrusy lift.
The sweet tier is a quiet crescendo. A square of Valrhona chocolate cake holds an impressive depth of flavour. A Hokkaido cheese tart, dotted with kumquat jam, is rich and silky. A delicate yuzu macaron snaps gently under the bite, and the black sesame choux is earthy and beautifully textured. The lotus paste mochi brings a softness that lingers. Then, the scones. Served warm with sakura strawberry jam and cream, they are as classic as the rest is contemporary.
The final act is tea or coffee, though the choice is clear. Yugen’s tea list is deeply considered, featuring roasted hojicha, white peony, karigane green and buttery Yunnan red. Each is brewed with precision and served with intention. They are not afterthoughts, but an integral part of the experience, selected to reflect the subtle flavours of the menu.
There is also a $55 version for children, and an optional add-on of seafood nigiri and vegetarian maki rolls for those leaning into a longer, more luxurious sitting.
Yugen’s high tea isn’t trying to modernise tradition with novelty or gimmicks. It simply applies care, creativity and clarity of vision to an experience many venues treat as routine. Here, it feels like a form of expression.
Refined, original and quietly theatrical, this is high tea worth slowing down for. Perfect for a long-overdue catch-up, a quiet celebration, or an excuse to spoil someone you love.
Bring your appetite. Bring your curiosity. Maybe bring your mum.
High tea at Yugen is not so much a nod to tradition as it is a quiet reinvention. Everything about the experience feels deliberate and composed. From the moment you step inside, it becomes clear that this isn’t a venue that follows the script.
