A Glimpse of Japan — Through Tea — in Vilnius

Interview with Giedré, Founder of Yugen Tea

Introduction

While visiting Vilnius for personal reasons, I wanted to grasp and discover the local speciality tea scene. The tea culture in Vilnius is still largely centred on herbal teas (arbata) — often fresh-picked and blended from local herbs. But hidden among the cobbled streets and coffee-dominant cafés, I found a gem: Yugen Tea, a minimalist Japanese tea bar where every cup is brewed with intention. Its founder, Giedré, focuses exclusively on Japanese teas and has created a space where stillness meets sensory precision. One rainy Summer afternoon, we met, and as I sipped a fragrant sencha and tasted an unexpectedly smoky black tea ice cream, I knew I had stumbled into something special.

Giedré and her place (Yugen Tea, Vilnius)

Lorela: You’ve described tea as both a delicious addiction and a moment of stillness. Can you share how your personal tea journey began — and how it led you from high school curiosity to founding Yugen Tea?

Giedré: My story with tea began quite quietly — a sort of slow unfolding, much like tea leaves in water. As a teenager in a small Lithuanian town, I didn’t have access to speciality tea, but I was fascinated by it nonetheless. I would visit the capital just to buy tea, explore tastes, and slowly learn.

My real turning point came during my university years. I chose to study Asian cultures and languages, which led me to Japan.

Living there, I took part in tea ceremony classes, learned the art of Japanese pottery, and began to understand how deep and spiritual the act of preparing and sharing tea could be. That’s when it stopped being a hobby and started becoming my life path.

Giedré as part of creating tea

Lorela: You studied Asian cultures and spent time in Japan learning about tea, ceramics, and aesthetics. What impact did that immersion have on your vision for Yugen Tea and your approach to sharing tea with others?

Giedré: The slowness. The respect. The subtlety.

I remember the quiet moments of tea ceremony classes, the attention to each gesture. But I also remember walking in the fields, picking tea leaves with farmers during my time in Uji.

I spent three months there during the first harvest season, working alongside people whose relationship with tea was generational, almost sacred. Each tea had a story, a face, a landscape. That direct, sensory connection changed everything for me. Later in Australia, while completing my Certified Tea Master and blending courses, I brewed tea for locals and realised I loved connecting people through tea. All these experiences shaped my vision of Yugen Tea as something much more than a shop — it’s a place of shared stories and quiet beauty.

Lorela: You’ve also trained in Australia and worked hands-on at a tea farm in Uji. What insights did those experiences give you into the craftsmanship behind tea — and how did they shape your standards for quality and sourcing?

Giedré: Working on a tea farm in Uji taught me that tea is truly a craft — it requires intuition, experience, and patience. Every farmer has their own philosophy and methods. In Australia, I trained more formally, learning about tea varieties, tasting profiles, and blending. But it was the combination of both — practice and philosophy — that gave me my standards.

When I source tea, I’m not just buying a product. I’m looking for that spark — the sense that the farmer has poured their passion and perspective into the tea. That’s when it becomes art.

Lorela: After these international experiences, what made you decide to return to Lithuania and open a tea bar-studio in Vilnius? Did you feel the culture here was ready for it — or did you want to help create that readiness?

Giedré:

I knew from early on that if I opened something, it would be in Lithuania. I felt the need to share tea with my community.

Even though it’s a country of coffee and herbal infusions, I believed there was space for something different. I didn’t feel the culture was ready — I knew I’d have to help create that readiness through education, storytelling, and experiences. I wanted to create a space where people could not only taste tea but feel it — feel the people behind it, the effort, the history.

Lorela: Lithuania is often seen as a coffee-first country. How have people responded to Japanese tea here? What have been the biggest surprises or challenges in introducing this deeper tea culture?

Giedré: In the beginning, it was unpredictable. I wasn’t sure how people would react. But I’ve been amazed by the openness and curiosity. We host many tastings and events, and people are always eager to learn.

One surprise was how much Lithuanians love umami — our Gyokuro, which I thought might be too intense, is one of our top sellers.

The biggest challenge is encouraging people not to judge tea too quickly. I try to invite them into a reflective space where they can explore what a taste reminds them of — childhood, seasons, emotions — not just whether they like it or not. Japan and Lithuania are also drawn by the common love of integrating nature into their daily lives.

Lorela: Running a niche, quality-focused tea space is a bold choice. From a business standpoint, do you feel it’s economically sustainable in Vilnius? How were you received when you first opened?

Giedré: It’s definitely a challenge, but one I was ready to face. We work with small farmers, many of whom produce only a few hundred grams of tea each year. That rarity means higher prices, which can be surprising in the Lithuanian market. But people understand once they taste it and hear the story. We’ve grown a lot, and now we’re a team of eight. I don’t earn much personally, but what we’ve built is sustainable because it’s sincere.

People leave Yugen Tea feeling something, and that matters.

Lorela: The concept of yugen — quiet beauty in life’s details — runs through your whole brand. How do you express that sensibility through the teas you serve, your tastings, and even your interior space?

Giedré: Yugen is everywhere in what we do — from the way we prepare tea to the light and textures in our space. It’s about small, poetic moments: a perfectly unfurling leaf, the warmth of a handmade cup, the silence between sips. We decorate simply, with seasonal flowers and calming materials. Our tastings are slow and meditative.

We want to offer people not just tea, but an atmosphere — a way of seeing and feeling.

Lorela: You work closely with small Japanese farmers and share their stories through your teas. How do you choose your partners, and what matters most to you when building those relationships?

Giedré: These relationships are very personal to me. I go to Japan every year, especially during the first harvest, to visit the same families. I don’t just ask for samples — I talk to them about what they loved making that season, what inspired them. If a farmer dislikes shaded teas but crafts beautiful sencha, I’ll showcase that.

Every tea we carry represents someone’s vision and energy.

That emotional honesty is what matters most. We currently work with about seven producers — mostly from Uji, Wazuka, and surrounding regions.

Lorela: What’s your perspective on the Vilnius Tea Festival and the growing interest in tea culture across Lithuania and Europe? What would you love to see more of in the local scene?

Giedré: I think the Vilnius Tea Festival is a great initiative. Many of us in the community talked about starting something like that, but Ernestas, founder of Tealure, took the first big step and made it happen. It’s a good way to bring visibility to what we’re doing and help others discover the world of tea. I’d love to see more diversity — more Chinese, Taiwanese teas, featured locally. I also dream of tea being more present in fine dining, appreciated like wine — not just for health, but for depth and complexity.

Lorela: Are you connected to global tea communities like the Global Japanese Tea Association? How important is it for you to stay part of the international tea world while building something uniquely Lithuanian?

Giedré: I’ve taken courses with the Global Japanese Tea Association and know many of the people behind it, including Simona, who is also Lithuanian. I haven’t officially become a catalyst, mostly because I’ve been immersed in day-to-day operations here. But I stay connected — I visit Japan regularly, attend events, and keep in touch with the broader tea world. I also follow what’s changing in Japan — new styles, experiments, perspectives.

I like to engage in a more organic, human way — through shared cups and conversations.

Conclusion

Giedré’s journey from a small Lithuanian town to tea farms in Uji and back again to Vilnius is a testament to the transformative power of following one’s quiet passions. Through Yugen Tea, she invites people not only to taste the complexity of Japanese tea but also to slow down, to feel, to connect. Her space is more than a tea house — it’s a carefully curated experience where every detail is a meditation on beauty, craftsmanship, and authenticity. In a city where coffee still reigns supreme, Giedré is steeping a new culture — one that welcomes stillness, and one cup at a time, builds a thoughtful community around tea.

Picture credits: Yugen Tea