Roots, Roasted Slowly: A British Afternoon Ritual Without the Caffeine
There is a particular sort of British afternoon that calls for a hot drink but not another coffee. The kettle goes on, the biscuit tin creaks open, and yet the idea of a third espresso feels less like a treat and more like a dare. This is where roasted roots come in. Chicory and dandelion root are not newfangled wellness products; they have been brewed in these islands, and in mainland Europe, for generations. In 2026 they are simply being looked at again with a calmer, more curious eye.
Why roots, and why now
Chicory root has a long history as a coffee extender and substitute. In nineteenth-century Britain and beyond, roasted chicory was used to stretch coffee, add body and make a little go further. Dandelion root has its own quieter history in folk herbalism and in the sort of old health-food shops that smelled faintly of dried nettles and brown paper bags. Neither root is a modern invention. What feels new is the way people are returning to them as an afternoon drink in their own right, rather than as a wartime compromise or a caffeine-free consolation prize.
That distinction matters. If you come to chicory expecting coffee, you will probably be disappointed. If you come to it expecting a warm, roasted, slightly bitter mug with its own character, you are more likely to enjoy the ride.
What they actually taste like
Chicory root is the bolder of the two. Roasted and ground, it brews into a dark, woody cup with a bitterness that sits somewhere between coffee and dark chocolate. It has a faintly smoky edge and a fullness that makes it feel more substantial than many herbal teas. Some people find it coffee-like; others find it more like a roasted grain drink with a bitter streak. Both descriptions are fair.
Dandelion root is softer and nuttier. Good roasted dandelion has a caramel-earthiness to it, a gentle bitterness and a smell that reminds me of the crust of a wholemeal loaf. It is less assertive than chicory, which is why the two are often blended. A common mix is mostly chicory with a little dandelion for roundness, or the other way round if you prefer a milder cup. You may also see roasted barley or rye in shop blends, which adds a malty quality but brings gluten with it — worth noting if that matters to you.
Neither root tastes like a miracle. They taste like roots that have been roasted until their sugars darken and their flavours deepen. That is the honest appeal.
Preparing and brewing at home
You can buy chicory and dandelion root ready-roasted and ground, which is the sensible starting point for most people. If you want to roast your own, the process is straightforward but slow. Scrub fresh dandelion roots well, chop them into small pieces, dry them thoroughly and roast them on a baking tray at around 180C for twenty to forty minutes, turning now and then, until they are a deep mahogany brown. Chicory root is treated similarly, though it is denser and may need longer. Let everything cool completely before grinding.
For brewing, treat the ground root like a coarse coffee or a robust herbal infusion. Use one to two teaspoons per mug, pour on water just off the boil, and steep for five to ten minutes. If you want more depth, simmer the root gently in a pan for ten to fifteen minutes instead — a simple decoction. A French press works well, as does a small saucepan and a strainer. Add hot milk or a plant milk if you like; chicory takes to milk rather nicely, and a drop of honey can soften the edge without turning the drink into pudding.
Buying sensibly in the UK
Read the ingredients list rather than the front of the packet. A bag labelled 'chicory root' should contain chicory root, not a long list of maltodextrin, flavourings and unspecified grain. Blends are fine if you know what is in them, but check for barley, rye and wheat if you are avoiding gluten. 'Coffee substitute' products can also include added sugars or dried syrups, so compare a few labels before settling on one.
Whole roasted root keeps its flavour longer than ground, but ground is easier for everyday use. Buy in small amounts, store it in a sealed jar away from the light, and use it within a few months. UK health-food shops, specialist herbal suppliers and online retailers all stock reliable options. If you are foraging your own dandelion root, avoid busy roadsides, sprayed verges and places where dogs are walked freely. Clean roots from a known, clean patch are one thing; a random roadside prize is quite another.
A word on caution
These are generally gentle drinks, but gentle does not mean irrelevant. Dandelion root has a diuretic reputation and may affect potassium levels, blood sugar and blood pressure. It can interact with prescription medicines, including diuretics, lithium and diabetes medication. People with gallstones or bile-duct problems are usually advised to avoid dandelion, and anyone who is pregnant or breastfeeding should speak to a pharmacist or GP before making it a regular habit. Chicory is in the same plant family as ragweed and may trigger allergies in sensitive people, and its inulin content can cause wind or bloating when you first start drinking it.
None of this is meant to make the afternoon cup feel medical. It is simply the sensible footnote. If you take regular medication, have a long-term condition or are unsure, ask a pharmacist. That is a five-minute conversation worth having.
Making it a ritual, not a replacement
The best way to enjoy chicory and dandelion is to stop asking them to be coffee. Make them the thing you have when the afternoon dips and you want a warm mug, a quiet five minutes and no caffeine keeping you up until midnight. Warm the pot, measure the root, let it steep, and sit down properly. A plain oat biscuit is not compulsory, but it is not a bad idea either.
In a culture that likes its health drinks to arrive with promises attached, roasted roots are refreshingly modest. They are dark, earthy, slightly bitter and rather comforting. They have been around for a long time. In 2026, that feels like a good enough reason to put the kettle on again.
