Beyond matcha: Starbucks and Costa chase ube’s viral moment

The colour hits first. Ube’s soft violet hue is appearing in iced lattes, bubble teas and frappés across cafés and social feeds, designed as much for the camera as for the cup itself.

Long a staple in Filipino desserts, ube is now moving from heritage ingredient to mainstream beverage trend. Its rise has been driven less by traditional retail and more by independent cafés experimenting with global flavours, where it has quickly become a standout addition to iced drinks menus. On platforms like TikTok and Instagram, that visual impact has accelerated its spread, turning a once niche ingredient into a recognisable aesthetic.

But ube is not just a colour story. It carries a distinct flavour profile: gently sweet, slightly nutty, with a vanilla-like softness that works surprisingly well in milk-based drinks. In desserts, it has long been used in cakes, ice cream, and ube halaya, a thick jam central to Filipino celebrations. That culinary foundation gives it more depth than many fleeting viral ingredients.

What is different now is context. Ube has shifted from cultural staple to social media signal. A layered iced ube latte is not just a drink; it is content. For younger consumers in particular, beverages have become part of identity expression, sitting at the intersection of taste, aesthetics, and shareability.

That shift has not gone unnoticed by major coffee chains. Costa Coffee and Starbucks have both been steadily evolving their menus toward colder, sweeter, and more customisable drinks. The goal is no longer just coffee dominance, but cultural relevance in a market shaped by short-form content and rapidly moving flavour trends.

Ube fits neatly into this direction. It is visually striking, globally inspired, and flexible enough to be adapted into lattes, cold foams, frappés, and seasonal specials. It also sits within a broader shift toward “discoverable” flavours, where consumers are increasingly open to trying ingredients they may not have grown up with, provided they feel accessible.

However, the challenge lies in execution.

Independent cafés often lean on real ube in the form of purée or halaya, delivering a more authentic, earthy sweetness. Larger chains, by necessity, tend to rely on syrups or flavour bases that can be standardised across thousands of stores. While this ensures consistency, it can flatten the complexity that makes ube distinctive in the first place.

That gap is becoming more visible. Consumers today are more informed, more curious, and more willing to question what sits behind a trend. Authenticity is no longer a niche concern; it is part of the value equation.

There is also the question of longevity. Food and drink trends, particularly those amplified by social media, can move quickly from novelty to saturation. The risk for global chains is not just missing a trend, but overcommitting to one that fades before it matures.

Yet ube may prove more resilient than most. Unlike purely aesthetic trends, it has cultural depth, culinary history, and a flavour profile that translates beyond visual appeal. It is not simply “viral purple”; it is an ingredient with established roots and expanding applications.

For coffee chains, the opportunity is clear but nuanced. Ube represents a chance to tap into global flavour curiosity and Gen Z-driven drink culture, but success will depend on more than just adding another colourful limited-edition beverage.

The real question is whether brands can move beyond replication of the trend and toward meaningful interpretation of it.

Because in today’s beverage landscape, visibility might get attention, but credibility is what keeps it.