Have purple drinks and desserts made of ube (pronounced “oo-beh” or “oo-bay”) been popping up in your social-media feeds?
According to Google Trends, search interest for “ube” in the United States has gone up 80 percent in the last five years. The highly pigmented purple yam, mostly grown and processed in the Philippines, is having its matcha moment.

As a Filipino American, I have mixed feelings.
One concern is that global demand for ube has made it harder and harder for Filipino farmers to keep up. Exports have quadrupled in recent years, and more than half of their product is sent to the United States, according to The New York Times. The Philippines can’t even meet its own local demand and has been forced to import some ube from Vietnam. I worry about Philippine farmers.
I’m also concerned that Filipino-owned businesses might be left behind as American corporations like Starbucks use the flavor (or a weak approximation of the flavor) for profit. In March, Starbucks announced its spring drink menu, which includes an iced ube coconut macchiato alongside other popular Asian flavors like yuzu and matcha. The iced ube drink contains coconut milk, ube coconut cold foam, and a sprinkle of coconut flakes on top.
Some of Starbucks’ own baristas and customers claim they can’t taste the yam’s signature nutty vanilla flavor. One Reddit user posted: “As a Filipino barista, I expected bold, nutty goodness, not just aesthetics. Ube isn’t just a color palette. It has a distinct, RICH flavor that should stand out. … This isn’t how you introduce a cultural icon to the world.”
On the other hand, the beloved tuber is a food I’ve been eating my whole life. I remember eating dark purple ice cream during family movie nights at home; when the lights came back on, our lips would be stained the same color.
As a kid in American schools, others often made fun of me for enjoying ube. It is now something that everyone can appreciate and enjoy.
While I’m wary about the effects that the popularization of Filipino food and culture may have on farmers and small businesses, my heart, and the hearts of my Philippine-born counterparts, swell with pride when non-Filipinos fall in love with our food for the first time.
If you really want authentic ube flavor, your best bet is to visit a local Filipino-owned grocery store or eatery. There are a handful of places in the Reno/Sparks area. Here are my top two.

At Dream Cakes in northwest Reno, a custom cakes business-turned-Filipino bakery, the most popular menu item is the ube croissant. The light, buttery pastry is filled with a fluffy, slightly sweet ube cream.
“People are coming in from Fernley and Carson City, and we had these customers from South Dakota,” said owner Wilbert Saludares.
He said the demand got so high that Dream Cakes was selling out of ube croissants after lunchtime. People complained, and he had to hire another baker.
“(Ube) is not just an opportunity to grow (my business), but also an opportunity to educate other people—which is what we really love,” said Saludares, who migrated from the Philippines six years ago.
At Malaya Eats, a Filipino eatery on Wells Avenue that has been gaining in popularity since it opened in January, manager Perryn Angelo Sta Cruz (pronounced “Santa Cruz”) said customers are excited about the ube creamsicle, a non-alcoholic play on a piña colada.
“The color is really pretty, and to (customers), it’s just new and delicious,” Sta Cruz said.
The pastel purple drink has a distinct ube flavor and also contains juice from the sweet, tart Philippine lime known as calamansi.
Sta Cruz believes that Gen Z and millennial diners are adventurous and eager to try new flavors like ube—and he’s here for it.
“It’s just really heartwarming,” he said. “Filipinos are really passionate with sharing their culture.”
