Holy Matcha founder Geraldine Ridaura
Ten years ago, the corner of 31st and University in North Park looked quite different. The all-pink, botanically-inspired café that has since launched a thousand Instagram reels and posts was just a sketch in the mind of founder Geraldine Ridaura.
Taking a huge leap of faith, and despite having zero experience in the industry, Ridaura opened Holy Matcha in 2016. The response was immediate and overwhelming. “The next day, I had a line around the block,” she recalls, a moment that validated her instincts in a city then dominated by third-wave coffee.
This weekend, Holy Matcha celebrates its 10th anniversary. As San Diego’s first dedicated matcha destination, the milestone marks a decade of success for the Latina founder who bet on a traditional Japanese "green drink" years before it became a global wellness staple.
Geraldine's love affair with matcha began in 2010, after developing allergies to shellfish and coffee, which didn’t sit well with her stomach. Her mother, a wellness enthusiast, suggested green tea, but it wasn't until a trip to Japan in 2012 for a wedding that everything changed.
"Knowing I couldn’t drink coffee, they set up a tea ceremony for me. And it blew my mind,” Ridaura recalls. “From the hospitality from how they make their hand gestures and just the passion of how they make the matcha. It moved me in the best way possible."
Returning to San Diego, Ridaura found herself frustrated by a city "plagued with coffee shops." She began carrying her own matcha to cafés, paying for sides of steamed milk and struggling with water temperatures. By the summer of 2016, the annoyance reached a breaking point. "I'm just so annoyed. I think I just need to open a matcha café," she thought. "Everything with my life has happened very organically, and I think that's been what's gotten me to where I'm at today."
Ridaura faced immediate skepticism about the café concept. A first contractor dumped her, claiming the concept was destined to fail. Industry insiders questioned her lack of knowledge in the space. "The one question that everybody was asking was: you have zero experience in the industry," she says. "But my thing has always been – I love matcha. I know matcha. I value the culture. I value the product."
Ridaura in 2016
She found a rundown building on University Ave. that needed love, and against the sea of minimalist black-and-white, industrial-design coffee shops of that decade, Ridaura chose pink. “I wanted to stand out and just be different," she says.
The café quickly became a vibrant community space and while the pink walls drew people in, the quality of the product kept them there. Ridaura remains fiercely protective of her supply chain and has worked with the same family farm in Uji, Japan since day one. While most matcha is often a mass-produced powder with added sugar or harvested by machines that cut or burn the leaf, Ridaura insists on the traditional, labor-intensive method. "It's all by hand, which means more labor, more time, more expensive but you get a better result," she explains. "As my mom always says, ‘Greatness takes time. You can't speed things up.' "
Holy Matcha sources its matcha from a family-owned farm in Uji, Japan
This commitment to maintaining the purity of the matcha extends to how the product is served at the North Park café. You won't find boiling hot beverages or pre-made matcha batches at Holy Matcha, two commonly found practices that Ridaura finds disrespectful to the craft. "Will you ever find a coffee shop that has pre-made espresso? Why do that with matcha?” she asks. “The matcha just takes like 10-15 seconds to make and maintain the integrity of the product."
Despite Ridaura’s commitment to integrity, the last decade hasn't been without its trials. She navigated the pandemic by hand-delivering matcha within a 30-mile radius of the shop all day, every day. Holy Matcha also opened and eventually closed a second location in East Village when the numbers didn't align.
Now a mother to a toddler, Ridaura is looking toward the next decade with a planned rebrand and eyes on an even bigger vision for Holy Matcha. But no matter how much her online footprint and wholesale business are booming, her heart remains in the original North Park brick-and-mortar café.
"I’m just very proud of the experience," she says, reflecting on the girl who sat crying in the shop the night before the 2016 launch, terrified no one would show up. "If I was motivated and hardheaded 10 years ago, I'm a mother now," she reflects. Greatness is gonna happen even better now. Because I know better."
As the anniversary celebrations begin, Ridaura remains the same "shy girl" who just wanted a good matcha latte. "I’m just very appreciative and very happy that I got to where I’m at today,” she reflects. “And it’s because of my community. Someone gave me a shot. I just don't take that for granted."
Holy Matcha, 3118 University Ave, San Diego
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