Our Story

In an old apartment in Banqiao, there lived a father who woke up every morning at five — not for himself, but for his daughter living far away abroad.

He would open his well-worn volumes of traditional Chinese medicine, carefully weighing each herb on an old-fashioned scale — astragalus, goji berries, red dates, angelica root. Grinding, portioning, sealing each packet. Every sachet was a labor of love, personally blended by his own hands.

"Remember to drink it — this one is good for your health." Every time his daughter came home to Taiwan, her luggage would be stuffed full of these herbal packets. He had been saying this for over a decade, without fail.

Since childhood, his daughter had always dreaded the pungent taste of Chinese herbal medicine. Bitter, heavy — even the smell made her wince.

But every time she saw her father's hopeful eyes, she would smile and take the packets: "Okay, okay, I'll drink it."

Back in her apartment abroad, the herbal packets were neatly placed in the very back of the fridge. One, two, three… they piled higher and higher, but not a single one was ever opened.

One Chinese New Year, her father made a rare trip to visit his daughter abroad.

That day, while she was out grocery shopping, her father decided to help find something to cook. He casually opened the fridge —

There were hardly any groceries inside. What filled the fridge was an entire collection of herbal packets. Three years' worth, every single one still there. Neatly arranged, not a single packet missing.

He stood before the fridge, staring for a very, very long time.

Her father didn't blame her. He didn't get angry. He returned to Taiwan and locked himself in the kitchen, determined to find a solution.

If his daughter couldn't drink herbal medicine, then he would transform it into something she could drink. He tried tea, soups, every possible method. Finally, he found his answer — coffee.

Six months later, her father handed her a drip bag with a wide grin: "Here, try this."

She tore open the package, and the moment hot water hit the grounds, a familiar aroma drifted up — it was the love that had been hidden in the fridge all those years, only this time, wrapped in the fragrance of coffee.

She took one sip, and the tears came.

This is how EnerGene Coffee began.
A father's unwavering devotion, a cup of love you can actually drink.