Where every leaf has a passport.
A small tea room on a quiet Dubuque street, where single-origin leaves from six regions are weighed by hand, steeped at their proper temperature, and poured properly — one cup, one story, one unhurried afternoon at a time.
Reserve a tastingThe shop
A small room for the unhurried cup.
Byzanteaum began with a single clay pot, a brass scoop, and the stubborn belief that most tea in the world is brewed wrong. Water too hot. Leaf too sparse. Steep too long, or not long enough. We measure by gram, time by second, temperature by degree — and we taste every batch before it reaches the counter.
The room itself is small on purpose. Six seats at the bar, two tables by the window, a shelf of thirty-odd teas in numbered canisters labelled with origin, pluck, and the date each one arrived. You are welcome to lift a lid, press your nose into the dry leaf, and ask whatever you like. There are no silly questions about tea. There are only people who haven't been answered yet.
What we don't do matters as much as what we do. No syrups. No milk by default. No cup larger than the tea deserves. We are not a café. We are a tea room — and we take the difference seriously.
On the shelf
A few leaves from the wall, right now.




What we pour
Four ways into tea.
The Flight
A guided tasting of three to five teas, chosen to show a range — perhaps a green and a roasted oolong, a single-estate black, a floral white. We weigh, time, and pour each one, then talk through what your palate is catching. About forty-five minutes. Best with a friend, or with the curiosity of one.
Private tastings
Book the room for your group — a birthday, a book club, a quiet celebration. We design the flight around you, set the table, and pour. Six to ten guests. By appointment.
Tea by the pot
Walk in, choose a leaf from the wall, settle into a chair. We bring a clay pot or a glass gaiwan, whichever the tea asks for, and a small cup. You steep as long or as short as you like. We refill the kettle.
Loose leaf & hardware
Every tea on the wall, sold by the ounce. Plus the gear to brew it at home — clay pots, glass gaiwans, cast-iron kettles, scale pans, bamboo trays, and the right books. We will explain how to use any of it before you leave.
Hands & leaves
Rolled by hand, sourced by name.
Tea is an agricultural product before it is anything else. The flavour in your cup was decided in a garden — by altitude, by rain, by the day the leaves were plucked, and by the hands that rolled them. We visit the importers we buy from. We ask where the leaf came from, who grew it, when it was picked. If we can't answer those questions, we don't put it on the wall.
The work behind the bar is the same work. Weighing a gram. Warming the pot. Watching the leaves unfurl. Pouring at the right moment. None of it is difficult. All of it is easy to skip. We don't skip it.
If you want to know more — about a specific tea, about brewing at home, about where to begin — ask. The answer is always free.
Reserve
Book a tasting.
Tell us a little about what you'd like. We'll confirm by email within a day and send a note about how to find us. Walk-ins are welcome when the room is quiet, but tastings are best by appointment.
Common questions
Before you visit.
Do I need to know anything about tea?
No. Most of our guests arrive curious and leave with a favourite. We'll explain what you're tasting as we go, and there's a written card to take home.
How long does a tasting take?
Around forty-five minutes for a flight of three, a little longer for five. You can sit as long as you like afterwards — the kettle stays warm.
Can I buy tea to take home?
Yes. Everything on the wall is sold by the ounce, in any quantity. We can also wrap a small tin as a gift.
Is the room accessible?
The shop is on the ground floor with a level entrance. If you have specific needs, mention them in the notes field and we'll prepare.
Can I bring a group?
Yes — up to ten for a private tasting. For larger gatherings, get in touch and we'll see what we can do.
Do you serve food?
A small plate of plain biscuits or a slice of whatever the bakery down the street has sent over. Tea is the point; the food is the punctuation.