Beneath the bones of a weatherworn warehouse just beyond the gleaming skyline of Downtown Los Angeles, there’s a secret waiting to be steeped. It isn’t marked by neon or signage; only a whisper has passed between those who’ve been. At first glance, it’s easy to mistake the building for another industrial shell. But step inside, and you’re transported to something else entirely. Soft lantern light flickers against concrete walls. Time slows. And the air, steeped with the scent of aged oolong and wild jujube, seems to hum with something… sacred.
Photo courtesy Bu Tea Den
This is Bu Tea Den, a speakeasy-style sanctuary hidden in the creative undercurrent of DTLA. Open since May 2025, it’s a weekend-only escape where art, technology, and tea converge into a powerful ritual. But don’t expect your typical teahouse. There’s no menu board, no cashier, no one rushing you out. This is a place that ask visitors gently but unmistakably to pause.
Once they have secured their RSVP, only then is the location revealed. Guests are invited behind a nondescript door, into a dim, cozy hideaway where conversation falls to a whisper and the outside world feels a galaxy away. The atmosphere is meditative, warm, and wrapped in curiosity. The first thing one notices isn’t the tea, but the glowing presence of something stranger.
Softly glowing machines, resembling ATMs from another timeline, beckon guests forward. It’s called the Automated Fortune Telling Machine™, or AFTM for short. As visitors press its vintage buttons, the machine clicks and whirs, prompting them with a series of personal, poetic questions: about who they are, on an energetic level and essence. The sounds it makes are playful and analogue, resembling an old arcade fused with a meditation device. When done, it delivers two things: a printed fortune ticket, tailored just to the guest, and a digital paisley-shaped “energy portrait” that drifts into a shimmering aquarium projected on the far wall.
Photo courtesy Bu Tea Den
Guests often gasp. Some laugh. Watching their paisley float among hundreds of others is like seeing their inner world translated into art.
The minds behind this experience are Severin Sauliere and Natalie Tran, artists, dreamers, and builders of a deeper kind of space. Severin, a producer and creative technologist whose past work has graced the halls of The Dalí Museum, brings a distinctly surreal and soulful sensibility to the digital aspects of the Den. Natalie Tran, affectionately known as the Chief Steeping Officer, anchors the space with warmth and intention, curating every tea ritual with care and clarity.
Photo courtesy Bu Tea Den
Their idea for Bu Tea Den was born not from a business plan, but from a moment of stillness during “dry January.” They wondered: what if they could create a ritual that helped people unplug and return to themselves? Something tactile, slow, and real. And the tea comes to ground the experience.
After a guest’s energy has been mapped and their fortune revealed, they’re invited to choose a tea to match their moment. The menu is intimate but deeply curated. A delicious King of Duck Shit Aroma Dan Cong Oolong (yes, that’s the real name) might shock guests with its caffeine and its floral notes bold enough to cut through emotional static. A 15-year-aged Golden Melon Pu-erh offers a dark, earthy richness that sinks into the chest. Imagine a hug in a mug. The Vanilla Lemongrass Herbal tea is smooth and delicate, like exhaling the stress of the week. Or perhaps one is drawn to the First Flush Mao Feng Green tea, crisp and awakening, or the calming Imperial Grade Gan Zao Ye, brewed from wild jujube leaves and sweet with quiet energy.
Each tea is served slowly with no timers or gimmicks. Just a cup and the sound of water steeping in hand-thrown ceramic pots. Natalie offers suggestions like a seasoned friend, reading the mood as she pours. Her presence is warm, never overbearing. Some guests speak softly. Others sit in silence, watching paisleys ripple across the back walls like a constellation of stories in motion.
The environment itself is a kind of co-creator. The warehouse setting feels raw and real, with high ceilings, red lanterns, and shadows that play tricks on your sense of time. Surrounded by artist studios, it’s both gritty and mystical, a space that seems to exist between worlds. The moment one enters, the phone suddenly feels heavier in the pocket, unnecessary.
There are no performances, no servers in costume, no elaborate ceremonies. Just atmosphere, intention, and presence. Think: art gallery meets spiritual bathhouse, with the soul of a tea ceremony and the mind of an experimental lab.
Photo courtesy Bu Tea Den
Behind the Den’s soft glow is hard work. Severin and Natalie still work full-time jobs. They run Bu Tea Den only on weekends (Friday through Sunday) because it’s a labor of love, not profit. The sessions are limited, intimate, and deliberately unscripted. No two visits are the same. That’s part of what keeps the regulars coming back.
And the space is growing. With plans to host community gatherings, artist talks, and seasonal events, Bu Tea Den is gently expanding its circle. Their first community event is slated for early August, and whispers of future collaborations are already circulating.
For now, the message remains the same: steep, sip, transform.
Bu Tea Den offers a chance to breathe, reflect, and reconnect with the subtle magic most of us overlook in the rush of our days. In a city that never stops, here’s a place that asks us to start over with a cup in your hands, our story as a glowing paisley, and 90 sacred minutes that are entirely ours.
To enter the Den, visit Bu Tea Den and RSVP. Then follow the directions and see what the Den will reveal.
