There's something special about boba tea. The ritual of shaking the cup, the satisfying slurp of tapioca pearls through that extra-large straw and, for me, a deeply comforting feeling tied to my Asian heritage – especially as someone who has been living in the Middle East for a while now.
Boba tea has been a cultural touchstone for decades. It is believed to have been invented in the 1980s, and has spread across South-east Asia, including the Philippines where I am from. Even before bubble tea – as it is also known – became popular, the use of sago or tapioca pearls was common in Filipino desserts. So, it was natural for my people to catch on to the beverage trend. Traditionally we do not drink a lot of tea, except for medicinal purposes, but bubble tea's success has generated a wider appreciation of the drink.
In the UAE, numerous shops serve boba, from home-grown brands to popular chains Tiger Sugar and Koi The. It has come a long way from its origins in tiny tea houses in Taiwanese streets to become a worldwide phenomenon.
But as much I want to celebrate its rise, there are moments, such as the recent Dragon's Den pitch by two Canadian entrepreneurs trying to create a “better and healthier” boba, that leave a bittersweet taste in the mouth. Last month, the pair from Quebec appeared on the show with their own version of boba tea. They claimed their product was healthier and addressed “problems” with the original drink. One of them even described boba tea as “that trendy, sugary drink you are queuing up for and you are never quite sure about its content”.
Thankfully, Canadian-Chinese actor Simu Liu was a guest panellist and potential investor in that episode. “There’s an issue of taking something that’s very distinctly Asian in its identity and ‘making it better’ which I have an issue with,” Liu told them.
Liu's reaction resonated with Asians online, and many backed his comments, calling out Indian investor Manjit Minhas, a panellist on the show, who initially pledged $1 million to the entrepreneurs. The backlash eventually prompted her to withdraw her investment, and also forced the Canadian company to post an apology on social media.
Let’s be real. Boba is not just a drink – it is a cultural landmark. When you go for boba, especially in places such as the Philippines, it is not about carefully measured sugar levels or calorie counts. It is about catching up with friends after school, going on late-night boba runs, hanging out at your favourite local shop. It is about a drink that is just the right amount of too sweet. Boba is a social ritual that we Asians around the world know and love in its full, unapologetic form. To claim that the original needs “fixing” feels not just off, but almost laughable.
And don't get me wrong – I get it. Health trends and wellness hacks are everywhere. I am all for better choices, less sugar, organic options. But when it comes to boba, the critique is not just about nutrition. It is a critique of an entire culture by people who seem to want only parts of it, without understanding why boba in its classic form matters to so many of us. It is like taking out the heart of something because you think that will make it more palatable to your audience.
Boba is just the latest in a long line of foods that others have tried to appropriate. Look at ramen, poke, pho, kimchi and even sushi. These foods, born in specific cultural and geographic contexts, have often been reimagined, stripped down or tweaked just enough to become more “mainstream”. And sadly, when people who are outside those cultures decide to remake these foods, they are often celebrated as “pioneers” and “innovators”. Meanwhile, when people from within those cultures try to promote their traditional foods, they are often dismissed as niche or exotic.
This is not just cultural appropriation; it is cultural erasure. By pushing forward a “better” boba, what these entrepreneurs are saying, intentionally or not, is that the original does not have a place at the table. It makes the authentic seem less valid, and for those of us who grew up seeing boba shops as essential parts of our communities, it is almost insulting.
I am not saying food should not evolve. There is room for innovation, absolutely. But there is a big difference between creating with respect and creating with entitlement. Food has been an important vehicle for cultural exchange, and with so many fusion cuisines coming up, dining has evolved in ways that make us appreciate food even more.
Dubai is a perfect example in this regard – a metropolitan city that holds its traditions dear, but allows for a dynamic cultural mishmash that is both respectful and innovative.
This is also not to say that selling a product inspired by a culture outside your own is wrong. Food is one of the most universal languages, bringing people together across continents, backgrounds and histories. Fusion cuisines, adaptations and global dishes are evidence of the world’s interconnectedness. The problem, however, arises when that inspiration crosses into appropriation – when cultural elements are taken with little respect for their origins, all for the sake of profit. There is a difference between respectfully sharing a culture and exploiting it, and that line can be thinner than many realise.
Boba, like so many beloved cultural foods, deserves more than a market makeover. It deserves respect for what it is – a delicious, unpretentious piece of cultural heritage. So here is my plea: let’s enjoy boba, let’s experiment, but let’s also leave space for the original to exist exactly as it is – bold, sweet, unapologetic, and full of heart. Because some things do not need fixing, they just need to be understood.
