There is a cafe in the second floor.
Leading in, there is a sheet music stand with comments.
Inside, there are no windows out.
Two primary colors, white and black
The bar is on the left, four seats.
Straight ahead are three cubicles which may sit four total. These themselves are also black. When you sit down on your stool without a back, in effect it is your own dark room. The only way forward is a square, about 1.5x the size of a diner mug, cut out from this wall. Just on the other side of this cutout, there is a black sliding curtain – it immediately registers as reasonable that the barista may control and deliver service here.
The menu is hand written on a 4×6 note stock, there is one copy in this room and I assume every other room. The menu is readable – relying overly on a tiny pendant light with a deep narrow shade. This beam is a concentrated cone, leaning on the wall itself.
Along the rooms perimeter, there are also dim lights not covered. These add enough context to see larger boundaries. 4000 kelvin, warm, yet this is my white point and balance. LEDs, no more than 3 inches in total size. 18 of them.
Floating from this space to one of the bar seats; we have 2 additional lights above the counter. Warmer, 25%? 3000 kelvin range. Their shades are black, a metal alloy of sorts, and different shapes. The size of shade prevents any direct line of eye contact with the barista, who is facing me when at the brewing station.
He heats water with 3 kettles. They are unique sizes. 2 of which are goosenecks.
Sometimes there’s a manual read thermometer put into a brass one.
None of the water appears that hot,
I never hear a boil, nor can visually observe a vapor.
There’s a v60 including a stand, he uses it only to rest a cloth filter and wand after loading beans.
The cloth filter, he cleans after each use.
Washed with water, dried by squeezing the water with his hand.
There are only two cloth filters identified.
The Ethiopian on the list?
My first thought – similar to pilot gas station drip.
Leaning into acid, yet within bounds.
Medium to dark roast.
I look up at the coffee station,
There are 8 jars of beans,
Maybe 5lbs in total,
All look the same darkness.
The grinder?
It looks like a Zerno Z1, from 1990.
He doesn’t clear the grinder between beans, and on top there is a hopper large enough for a pound.
There is no grind size adjustment between Ethipoia and China.
The grinder is loaded only with the next order, at the time necessary.
Eventually, the bloom.
I glance at my watch, it’s about 60 seconds.
In that time, he washes one (1) dish.
The brew is into a hammered saucepan with a handle
With one hand, the second brass kettle
The other hand, a Hario Nel
And underneath, well, he collects his syrup.
This Nel, I observe as really letting the beans expand as they wish.
He appears to perform and adjust by his own senses, intuition.
The pour from the kettle reaches an occasional beaded drip into the center of the coffee bed.
He himself –
A mullet about the length of merzbow.
A black button down layered underneath a baggy brown cardigan.
In all, his own actions, words never exceed more than a few decibles.
ASMR
The serving ware –
Various pottery, if a genre I’d claim that of a squished aluminum can you’d hold.
And also some opposite of more delicate porcelain.
There seems to be no rhyme or reason for which vessel the brew comes in. 100cc came in the larger pottery, while 120cc a white tea cup that belongs in a British movie.
I look to the left –
There’s a cabinet in the corner where the larger collection is on display. Only wine glasses may perhaps be pairs.
The China tastes the same as Ethiopia.
