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Ube Is Having a Melbourne Moment — Here’s Where to Try the Filipino Favourite
Ube is more than a colour, and more than the internet’s latest flavour crush. It belongs to a much older Filipino food story, carried through halaya, halo-halo, cakes, ice cream and the kitchens that understood its appeal long before the rest of the world arrived with purple lattes.
Melbourne has some of Australia’s best ube — the Filipino purple yam that has gone from a pantry staple in Filipino households to one of the most talked-about ingredients in cafes and restaurants around the world. These are the Filipino-owned spots in Melbourne using real ube halaya, not just flavouring: Halaya in the CBD for the most committed ube menu in the city, Kariton Sorbetes in Footscray for small-batch gelato that sells out fast, Pecks Road in the CBD and Caroline Springs for the ube cake doughnut made with house-made halaya, and Askal in the CBD for a full Filipino restaurant experience with ube chiffon cake as the finish.
For everything you need to know about what ube actually is, where it comes from, and why it’s having a moment — read on.
What Is Ube and Why Is Everyone Talking About It?
Oohbeh! Maybe you’re randomly scrolling and keep spotting this vivid purple colour popping up in cakes, drinks, and bread all over your feed. You swing by your Sunday morning cafe and there it is, right on the menu. Familiar or not, tasted or not, ube is having a very visible Melbourne moment. That colour has a name, a history, and honestly, a whole personality.
Ube is a purple yam native to the Philippines. It is often mistaken for taro or purple sweet potato, but it is entirely its own thing, with a flavour that is gently sweet and softly nutty, somewhere between vanilla and white chocolate, with a little earthiness underneath.
And that colour is no accident. Ube’s deep purple hue comes from anthocyanins — natural pigments also found in blueberries and purple sweet potatoes, which have been studied for their potential role in supporting cognitive and cardiovascular health. Ube also contains vitamins A, C and E, potassium, and fibre, so there is more going on than the colour alone.
The Filipino Roots of Ube
Ube has been part of Filipino cuisine for centuries. One of the earliest written records appears in a Tagalog-Spanish dictionary published in 1613, where it was listed as uvi, before later being identified as Dioscorea alata, a species of yam widely cultivated throughout the Philippines.
One of its most beloved forms is ube halaya, a rich jam made by slowly cooking grated ube with milk and sugar until thick and creamy. It forms the foundation of many Filipino favourites, from halo-halo and cakes to pastries, ice cream and cookies.
Like many Filipino dishes, ube reflects the country’s layered history, with traditional recipes evolving over time. Ube halaya was originally made with carabao milk from the water buffalo native to the Philippines, before the recipe shifted after American colonisation in 1898, when evaporated and condensed milk became more widely available. The halaya stayed. The milk changed.
Today, ube remains one of the most recognisable ingredients in Filipino cuisine, carrying cultural significance and a deep sense of nostalgia for many who grew up with it.
Why Is Everyone Obsessed With Ube Right Now?
Long before ube became latte foam, pastry filling or TikTok shorthand, it was part of Filipino food culture — sweet, earthy, vivid and deeply familiar across generations of desserts. Its wider pop-cultural moment came in 2016, when Manila Social Club in New York launched a $100 ube donut filled with ube mousse and finished with Cristal champagne glaze and 24-karat gold. The stunt travelled fast, dragging ube into international food media with all the subtlety of a gold-leafed flare.
What followed was slow, then sudden. Interest simmered through bakeries, dessert counters and cafe menus before major chains began treating ube as the next big flavour. Starbucks tested ube drinks through its Reserve stores before giving the ingredient a broader push, while food analysts tracked its sharp rise across restaurant menus. Australia followed closely: Starbucks rolled out ube drinks locally, Filipino distillery Destileria Barako’s Ube Cream Liqueur landed in a major liquor retailer, and the Australian Financial Review flagged ube as the ingredient most likely to follow matcha’s path to everyday staple.
Part of its appeal is visual. In an era dominated by Instagram and TikTok, ube’s naturally vivid purple colour does half the talking before anyone has taken a bite. CNN reported this year that the UN Food and Agriculture Organisation’s representative in the Philippines captured the scale of the moment at an international conference: ube ice cream in New York, ube cakes in London, ube lattes in Tokyo.
After matcha, after pistachio, ube is the flavour everyone seems to have suddenly discovered. The irony, of course, is that Filipino communities knew all along.
More Than a Food Trend
For all of ube’s global momentum, the story is not entirely sweet. A recent report by The New York Times highlighted the pressure facing Filipino farmers, from climate-related crop losses to rising production costs and limited access to international markets.
While ube has become a sought-after ingredient around the world, the benefits of its growing popularity aren’t always felt equally across the supply chain. As the purple yam finds new fans around the world, the challenge will be ensuring that the people and communities behind it share in that success too.
Where to Try Ube in Melbourne
So, where does that leave us in Melbourne? With a very good reason to share the love locally and start with the Filipino-owned and Filipino-run businesses showing just how good ube can be. These spots use real ube halaya, not just purple flavouring, and each one offers a sweeter, more considered way into the story.
Halaya
Named after the jam itself, Halaya runs ube through the entire menu, from scrolls and Basque cheesecake to cloud desserts and dirty ube lattes. Run by Manila-trained pastry chef Laurice Fajardo and hospitality operator Elbert Estampador, this is Melbourne’s most committed ube destination.
285 Spring Street, Melbourne
Kariton Sorbetes
Melbourne’s first Filipino gelateria is named after the traditional ice cream cart, and its ube halaya gelato is made in small batches, rich and properly flavoured. It regularly sells out, which tells you plenty.
50 Leeds Street, Footscray
Pecks Road
A Filipino-owned cafe started by three brothers and named after the street they grew up on in Melbourne’s west. Their ube cake doughnut is made with house-made ube halaya and has become a signature. The place feels personal because it is.
Shop 3/234 Flinders Lane, Melbourne
Shop A6/1-7 Caroline Springs Boulevard, Caroline Springs
Askal
A three-level Filipino restaurant in a heritage building, with a menu built around chargrilled meats, fresh seafood and ancestral Filipino recipes. Their ube chiffon cake, layered with macapuno crème and macerated cherries, is the thing to finish on. Worth going for the full meal, not just the purple.
167 Exhibition Street, Melbourne
Ube is not a colour trend waiting to be claimed by the internet. It belongs to a much older Filipino food story, carried through halaya, halo-halo, cakes, ice cream and the kitchens that understood its appeal long before purple lattes entered the chat. As Melbourne continues to embrace ube, every slice of cake or scoop of ice cream offers a small taste of something larger. So next time you see it on a menu, order it. And for the record: it’s oo-beh, not oob. You’re welcome.
For more delicious bites, check out our guide to Melbourne’s best Filipino restaurants, or keep the sugar trail going with the city’s best bakeries.
