Beyond the Tea Brand: Sherry Lee on Building a Career in Tea
- Lorela Lohan

- 3 days ago
- 13 min read
Introduction
Tea careers are often associated with founding a brand, opening a shop or sourcing and selling leaves. Sherry Lee has followed a different path.
Originally from Taiwan and now based in the Netherlands, Sherry has built a multifaceted professional life around tea through education, consultancy, cultural events, gastronomy and product development. Her work moves between public-facing tea experiences and the less visible strategic work taking place behind the scenes: teaching future tea professionals, advising restaurants, analysing markets and exploring new applications for Taiwanese tea.
I first encountered Sherry’s work through one of her tea-pairing experiences. What stood out was not only her knowledge, but her ability to present tea in a playful, contemporary and accessible way. Her events challenge the assumption that tea must always be quiet, ceremonial or traditional. Instead, tea becomes a starting point for conversation, creativity and cultural exchange.
In this interview, Sherry reflects on growing up with tea in Taiwan, rediscovering its importance after moving to Europe, leaving the electronics industry and gradually creating a professional career in tea without launching her own brand.
Lorela: Tea is deeply rooted in everyday life in Taiwan. What are your earliest memories of it, and when did it become more than simply something that was always around?
Sherry: My earliest memories are of seeing groups of adults gathering around tea. They might have been discussing business or simply chatting, but there was always a particular set of gestures and rituals surrounding the moment. In Europe, you might compare it to colleagues gathering for a coffee break, except that in Taiwan, tea was at the centre.
I remember watching them and wondering what they were doing, but I was still very young. The adults would tell me that I should not drink too much tea; otherwise, I couldn’t fall asleep at night.
For most of my childhood and youth in Taiwan, tea was simply part of daily life. It was not necessarily approached as a formal ritual. You could buy it everywhere: in convenience stores, supermarkets and small shops. Besides Taiwanese teas, there were also fruity teas, cold-brewed teas, sencha-style drinks, teas from Sri Lanka and many other options.
Because it was so readily available, I did not think of it as something exceptional. Tea was always there, and perhaps that is precisely why I was not fully aware of how important it was to me.
I only started recognising that importance after moving to Europe.

Lorela: How did moving from Taiwan to Europe—and eventually settling in the Netherlands—change your relationship with tea?
Sherry: I moved to Europe more than fifteen years ago and have now lived in the Netherlands for around ten years. For a long period, I was disconnected from the tea culture I had grown up with.
The difference became particularly visible when I started working in European offices. There would often be an enormous coffee machine offering ten different options, while next to it sat a rather sad tea box containing one or two basic flavours.
I tried to learn to enjoy coffee because it was such an important part of the working culture. But I never really understood the appeal of the bitterness. I would add a lot of chocolate just to make it easier to drink.
That was when I realised that something was missing from my daily life. I started brewing my own tea and bringing it to the office. It did not always have to be pure tea. Sometimes it was roasted tea or an herbal infusion. What mattered was having an alternative that suited me.
Moving away from Taiwan made me recognise something I had previously taken for granted. Tea has been part of my sense of comfort, identity and everyday rhythm.
Europe also made me reconsider the image of Taiwanese tea. In Taiwan, traditional gongfu tea can sometimes be perceived by younger generations as something old-fashioned—an activity associated with older men, serenity and lengthy rituals. Many people live very fast-paced lives and see coffee or wine as more modern and socially attractive.
Then I came to Europe and met young, creative people who were deeply fascinated by Taiwanese tea. That surprised me. It made me question whether our perception of tea in Taiwan had been shaped by outdated imagery rather than by the product itself.
Tea does not always need to be attached to an ancient or overly formal presentation. It can simply be an extraordinary flavour that you enjoy every day.
Lorela: Before working professionally in tea, you had a very different career. What led you to change direction?
Sherry: My original professional background was in international business within the electronics and within the electronics and high tech industry.
Taiwan plays an important role in manufacturing electronic components for the global market, so international business was a natural career direction for me. I continued working in the industry after moving to the Netherlands.
After several years, however, I reached a point where I wanted to explore what I genuinely enjoyed rather than continuing to work simply because it was a stable career.
I decided to take a career break. During that period, I worked for about a year at Simon Lévelt, a Dutch tea and coffee retail chain with shops across the Netherlands and Belgium. It allowed me to improve my Dutch and become more closely involved with tea from a professional perspective.
While working there, I discovered that it was possible to study to become a tea sommelier. I was curious because I could not initially imagine what a tea sommelier curriculum would look like.
In Taiwan, tea education and certification exist, but I wanted to understand how tea was being taught and interpreted in Europe. I therefore enrolled in the programme.
After completing the course, I began organising workshops and events. That was the moment when tea gradually changed from a personal interest into a profession.

Lorela: What formal tea education did you complete, and how has your professional training evolved?
Sherry: My first major professional step was completing a tea sommelier course in the Netherlands. That training gave me a structured foundation and helped me translate my existing cultural relationship with tea into professional knowledge.
Later, I completed an international certification as a Taiwanese tea instructor through Taiwan’s official tea research institution. The programme was designed specifically for people who already had significant knowledge of tea and wanted to teach Taiwanese tea internationally.
The course itself was intensive rather than long. It lasted approximately one week, but participants had to pass a pre-selection process. It was not intended for complete beginners. We studied the principal categories and varieties of Taiwanese tea, the country’s speciality teas, historical development and professional tasting methods. We practised both standardised evaluation with white porcelain tasting sets and gong fu-style preparation. We also had to demonstrate that we could identify teas through blind tasting, explain them clearly and develop an effective teaching curriculum. As part of the assessment, we documented how we would teach the material and demonstrated our teaching approach. The purpose of the programme is not simply to give participants another certificate. It is intended to train educators who live outside Taiwan and are capable of presenting Taiwanese tea professionally in other markets.
I now teach through the International Tea and Coffee Academy in the Netherlands. The academy supports the educational structure and helps reach students who already possess substantial tea knowledge and want to specialise further.
One part of the programme also involves travelling to Taiwan. To obtain the full official certification, students must visit designated tea-growing areas and experience the production context directly. This creates the possibility of combining teaching in the Netherlands with educational tea trips to Taiwan.
Lorela: You also spent two years working for Unilever’s tea division. What did that experience teach you about the commercial tea market?
Sherry: At Unilever, I worked as a category manager. The role was very commercially focused and heavily based on data. I compared tea brands with their competitors, analysed market shares and examined promotional strategies. Much of the work involved studying consumer data and observing broader trends.
We looked at questions such as whether herbal infusions were becoming more important, whether matcha would continue growing and which categories were considered national beverages in different countries. I gained significant insight into the Benelux market, but we also examined data from Germany, France and the Nordic countries.
The role also involved presenting products to different sales channels, including supermarkets, hotels, restaurants and other hospitality businesses. I had opportunities to meet tea-blending specialists in the United Kingdom and participate in workshops with them.
It was an extremely resourceful period because it showed me the scale and complexity of the commercial tea industry. I learned how companies evaluate categories, develop promotions and adapt products to different markets.
At the same time, most of the work happened in front of a computer. It was very different from standing in front of people, serving tea and receiving an immediate reaction. The corporate experience gave me commercial understanding, but the events gave me human connection.
Lorela: You have created a professional career in tea without founding a conventional tea brand. How does your business model work?
Sherry: My work has gradually developed into a portfolio of different activities.
Pop-ups and public events are the most visible part because people see them on Instagram and interact with me directly. But behind those events, I also teach, consult for restaurants, collaborate with tea brands and contribute to product development. I started working independently on a full-time basis around a year and a half ago. As with many new businesses, the first years are challenging.
Larger projects, such as weddings, opening ceremonies and private events, can generate sustainable income. Smaller public events need to happen more frequently to provide the same level of revenue. One of the biggest challenges is venue cost. A good tea experience requires the right environment, equipment, food preparation possibilities and atmosphere. If a large part of the event income goes directly to the venue, the model becomes much more difficult.
A positive sign is that I no longer have to invent every project myself. Increasingly, people approach me and ask me to create an event, develop a concept or contribute my expertise. That shows that the professional network and recognition are growing.
However, reaching the same income level as a corporate role still takes time. I sometimes consider whether opening a tea shop would create greater financial stability, but that would be a completely different profession. Running a shop means managing inventory, staff, premises and daily operations. It requires significant investment and would reduce the freedom I currently have to work across different sectors.
For now, I am developing a mixed model rather than relying on a single activity. I teach, organise selected events, consult and work part-time with a Taiwanese tea company entering the Dutch market. It is fragmented, but it also allows me to use different parts of my knowledge.
Lorela: Of all these experiences—corporate work, teaching, consultancy and cultural events—which has shaped you the most?
Sherry: The pop-ups have probably taught me the most because they give me direct feedback from a very diverse audience. In an academy, everyone arrives because they already want to learn about tea. They have a certain level of commitment and ask questions within that context.
Inside a tea company, the work is often focused on research, product development and internal strategy. You do not always see the consumer’s reaction immediately. At a pop-up, the audience can be completely mixed. Some people already possess extensive tea knowledge. Others attend because they are interested in the food, the art, the music or simply the concept of the event. That variety is extremely valuable.
When creating a menu or pairing, we often assume that a particular combination will be the audience’s favourite. But the real response can be completely different. Watching people taste, listening to their comments and observing the questions they ask always gives me ideas for the next event.
Pop-ups also help me understand which combinations attract which kinds of people. They are a live testing environment for creativity, communication and accessibility. They remind me that tea preferences are highly personal. A pairing that feels obvious to one person can be surprising to another. This unpredictability is part of what makes tea so interesting.
Lorela: Your events connect tea with food, art, music and culture. Why is tea such a powerful medium for creating these connections?
Sherry: There are still many misconceptions surrounding tea, and I both dislike and appreciate that fact.
People often arrive at a tea event expecting a very quiet afternoon filled with meditation and serenity. There is nothing wrong with that approach, and many tea professionals create beautiful experiences based on calmness and contemplation. But it is not necessarily my style. I like to challenge the stereotype. My events tend to be more social, talkative and playful. They may feel closer to a contemporary gathering or party than to a classical tea ceremony.
People are often surprised to discover that tea can be used as a pairing beverage or that an event centred on tea can be lively and creative. Many have never experienced the diversity of flavour found across different tea styles.
When those expectations are overturned, something interesting happens. People begin to reconsider what tea can be. I also enjoy creating combinations that are not immediately obvious. For example, I once paired a Dancong oolong with Turkish delight. At first, people could not imagine how the two could work together. Then they tasted the pairing and understood the connection.
That moment of surprise creates curiosity. It permits people to think differently.
In that sense, the misconceptions provide an opportunity. The contrast between what people expect and what they experience creates an emotional impact.
Lorela: Which three teas would you choose to introduce someone to the diversity of Taiwanese tea?
Sherry: The first would be high-mountain oolong. This is not a single tea but an entire category, and that is precisely what makes it so fascinating. Different mountains and growing areas produce distinctive expressions.
The differences can be subtle and delicate. It takes time to notice them and even more time to understand why they matter. But once people become interested in high-mountain oolong, they often become completely absorbed by it.
Taiwan has many tea gardens at high elevations, including areas above 1,500 metres. The interaction between altitude, climate, season and craftsmanship produces a remarkable diversity of flavour.
I am considering organising an event based on “tasting the mountains”, where participants would compare teas from different Taiwanese peaks. It is a beautiful concept, although it may require an audience already prepared to focus on very subtle distinctions.
The second tea would be Oriental Beauty, or more broadly, one of Taiwan’s insect-bitten teas.
Oriental Beauty is the best-known example, but the same interaction with insects can also be found in certain oolongs, black teas and other styles.
When the leaves are bitten by small insects, the plant undergoes a natural chemical response. This contributes to the distinctive honeyed, fruity and highly perfumed character associated with these teas. It demonstrates how the environment can become an active part of the flavour.
For the third tea, I would choose something more personal: tea made from Taiwan’s indigenous tea trees. Many cultivars used in Taiwan were introduced or developed through different historical periods. Indigenous Taiwanese tea, however, comes from tea trees native to the island.
These trees can grow much larger than conventional cultivated bushes, and the leaves often need to be harvested by hand. There are fewer people who still know how to work with them properly.
The resulting tea has a certain wildness. It can recall teas produced from old trees elsewhere in Asia, but Taiwanese craftsmanship often brings a distinctive sweetness, sometimes resembling rock sugar.
This tea is especially meaningful to me because it comes from the region where I grew up. It represents a part of Taiwan that remains less familiar internationally.

Lorela: What is your personal favourite tea, and which projects are you currently developing?
Sherry: Recently, I have been fascinated by Zhangshu Lake High Mountain Oolong, a high-mountain oolong from the Alishan region.
It has a very mineral and crisp profile, with a slightly salty quality and notes that remind me of Granny Smith apple and green pepper.
What I find particularly interesting is its similarity to certain white wines. It reminds me of the profile of a crisp, mineral wine, but without the alcohol.
I also have a wine qualification and genuinely enjoy wine, although I have become increasingly intolerant of alcohol. After a couple of glasses, I can develop rashes, which makes wine pairings and long dining experiences difficult.
This tea therefore creates a bridge between two worlds I appreciate. It makes me think about how tea and wine can be compared through structure, minerality and aromatic character.
One day, I would like to organise a tea-versus-wine tasting in Taiwan. I think many Taiwanese participants would be surprised by how similar certain sensory qualities can be. Professionally, I am currently focusing on several connected projects.
Teaching is becoming increasingly important. Through the International Tea and Coffee Academy, I want to offer more in-depth education about Taiwanese tea to students who already possess a strong foundation.
I am also exploring the possibility of organising educational trips to Taiwan, where students can visit tea farms, understand production methods and complete parts of their certification.
Alongside this, I am consulting for restaurants and helping them introduce Taiwanese tea more thoughtfully.
One example is my involvement with NOR, where I advised on Taiwanese teas and co-created a tea cocktail with a mixologist. Tea cocktails have received a very enthusiastic response, which demonstrates how much potential exists when tea is presented in a more contemporary format.
I am also working two days a week with a Taiwanese company that wants to enter the Dutch market with tea powders. These are not matcha powders. They are made from teas such as roasted oolong, red oolong and Four Seasons Spring. Matcha was cultivated and processed specifically to become a powder, while these Taiwanese products begin as finished teas and are subsequently transformed. That creates a completely different set of technical and culinary possibilities.
We are investigating how these powders can be used in ice cream, pastry, drinks and even protein-based products. I would like to see more ice creams and desserts built around the flavour of real tea rather than generic “tea-flavoured” products.
Tea cocktails and tea pastries may also provide a bridge between pure tea and the more playful beverages consumers already enjoy.
My public events are evolving as well. I intend to organise fewer events focused exclusively on technical pairings and more experiences built around Taiwanese culture.
One upcoming concept is based on the four seasons of Taiwan. The event would bring together four teas produced or enjoyed during different seasons and four dishes associated with those times of year.
For a general audience, the objective is not to overwhelm people with technical information. It is to let them enjoy the culture, flavours and atmosphere. More detailed sensory analysis and pairing theory can take place in the academy. Public events can remain accessible, emotional and enjoyable.
Conclusion
Sherry Lee’s story illustrates that a professional career in tea does not need to follow a single predefined model. Her work spans education, hospitality, market analysis, cultural programming, product development and consultancy. Rather than placing her name on a package of tea, she applies her knowledge wherever tea needs interpretation, creativity or strategic direction.
This path is not without difficulty. The tea sector still offers relatively few formal positions for educators, sommeliers and consultants. Professionals often need to create their own opportunities, combine several sources of income and demonstrate the commercial value of expertise that other beverage industries already recognise. Yet this fragmentation may also be the source of innovation.
Sherry moves between Taiwan and the Netherlands, between pure tea and gastronomy, and between traditional knowledge and contemporary experiences. Her work shows how tea can become part of restaurants, cocktails, pastries, cultural events and professional education without losing its identity.
Perhaps the future of tea will not be built only by new brands. It will also be shaped by people who know how to teach it, translate it, contextualise it and place it where new audiences can finally discover it.














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