Olive trees have grown around the eastern Mediterranean for tens of millions of years, spreading later into Asia and Africa, and it's the leaves of that same tree — usually pressed for oil and fruit — that go into this infusion. The tree stays modest by tree standards, rarely topping fifty feet, and produces both fruit and flowers alongside the leaves used here.
The cup itself is soft and herbaceous rather than assertive: floral and lemon notes sit over a base that can read as honeyed, cocoa-tinged, even faintly coffee-like, with a general vegetal, herbal character running through it. It has no caffeine, since that comes from the plant's leaf and seed chemistry rather than anything present in olive leaves, which suits an evening cup or anyone cutting back on stimulants.
Olive leaf has a long folk history as a health tonic, credited with antioxidant and calming properties among other traditional uses — worth treating as inherited lore rather than a medical claim, but part of why people keep brewing it.
To make it, pour water just off the boil, at 100°C, over the leaves in an infuser and let them sit for eight to ten minutes; the shorter end of that range keeps things milder, the longer end draws out more depth. It stands fine on its own, though a spoonful of honey or a twist of lemon rounds out the flavour if you want it.
