Holy Matcha

While Olympic's been hand-rolling phyllo for forty years and Kin Len stays locked into northern Thai heat, Holy Matcha leans into aesthetic-first café culture—the kind of place where the Le Pink Booth drives as much foot traffic as the matcha menu. The room delivers on vibes: banquette seating, clean lines, the sort of chic minimalism that photographs well. But the drinks tell a different story. Reviews consistently flag watered-down lattes where oat milk overwhelms any actual matcha flavor, and at $8-plus per drink, the ratio feels off. The strawberry matcha arrives without much strawberry; the everyday latte tastes more like lightly tinted milk than anything ceremonial.

What works: it's a functional brunch spot on University Ave with avocado toast that hits the mark, vegetarian options that make group hangs easy, and enough table space to host a journal club without getting side-eyed. The café knows its role in the neighborhood's walkable corridor—somewhere to meet before hitting the Observatory or grab takeout between errands. It's casual, it's approachable, and the staff lets you linger.

What doesn't: the matcha itself, which should be the anchor, often reads as an afterthought. For a spot named Holy Matcha, that's a fundamental gap. If you're here for the photobooth and the aesthetic, you'll leave happy. If you're here because you actually care about matcha—the grassy complexity, the foam, the balance—you'll probably wish you'd walked to one of the tap-list spots and ordered a cold brew instead.

Practical notes: it's on University Ave near the 30th Street intersection, so parking's the usual North Park hustle. Go for the toast, stay for the booth, temper expectations on the drinks.