I sat down recently and looked properly at the numbers for the first time, and seeing them written down made me stop and stare for a minute.

It’s slightly mad to realise we’re already more than three years into our café project, and since we opened on 5 April 2022, I’ve made over 16,000 coffees. I didn’t expect that number to land the way it did, but it really did, because you don’t feel “sixteen thousand” in the moment. You feel Monday mornings, busy Saturdays, quiet winter days, and the steady rhythm of doing the same thing well for people who’ve chosen to spend their time with you.

If I’m honest, the feeling was a mix of pride and disbelief. Not the chest-out kind of pride, but the quieter realisation that a lot of life has happened behind a coffee machine.

 

The work behind 16,000 coffees

The work itself is a joy. It can be hectic and very social, and I genuinely like the pace of it, even when it’s demanding. Because it’s just me making the coffee, the consistency is always there in a way that only really makes sense once you’ve done it thousands of times. Same hands, same machine, same habits, same standards.

When you look at over 16,000 coffees, what you’re really looking at is repetition, attention, and showing up consistently, even on days when it would be easier not to.

There’s a lot of muscle memory now, but I still try to give each drink my full attention, especially lattes, cappuccinos and anything involving steamed milk. Take your eyes off the steaming or the pour for even a moment and you’ll feel the quality slip. Experience doesn’t turn it into autopilot. If anything, it makes you more aware of how easily a good coffee becomes a mediocre one.

I’m also now the proud owner of what I jokingly call “asbestos hands”.

The people that make it worth it

When I think about what I’ve really been making most days, it isn’t just coffee. It’s reassuringly good coffee, and the word that comes up again and again, in person and in reviews, is “consistent”. That might be the most underrated compliment in hospitality.

Over 16,000 coffees also means over 16,000 small interactions, some fleeting, some familiar, all part of the same rhythm.

The café itself is often described as relaxing and chilled, which matters to us, because that’s exactly what we wanted to create. Somewhere you can sit down, breathe, and not feel rushed. We only do sit-down service, and most first-time visitors come in because they’ve read the reviews or because someone local has told them we do the best coffee. Either way, there’s an expectation before the cup even hits the table, which keeps you honest.

I hope what we’ve created is a genuine pause in someone’s day. Not a transaction or a pit stop, but a small pocket of calm with a properly made drink in front of you.

There are a few non-negotiables, even when it’s busy.

We use whole milk as standard because, in my view, it makes a better coffee. We offer semi-skimmed and oat as alternatives, but whole milk is the baseline because it supports the texture and flavour we’re aiming for.

More importantly, I won’t compromise on beans. We use Voyager Coffee because we trust them, and the feedback consistently backs that up. Plenty of cafés choose cheaper beans to improve margins, and that’s absolutely fine. For us, it’s not the path. We’d rather serve better coffee at fair prices than quietly downgrade quality to save pennies and hope nobody notices.

The biggest lesson since opening has been simple: don’t rush, and don’t be rushed. If someone wants fast food or quick drinks on that particular day, then we’re probably not the right place for them at that moment, and I’m comfortable with that. We still work efficiently, but we take care. We warm the cups, pay attention to milk texture, and don’t cut corners just because it would be easy to justify it.

 

What this number represents

Making coffee now feels different to our first season, mostly because I’m more confident, and that confidence has come from feedback. I’m faster, but not at the expense of quality, and I’m far more willing to pour a drink away if it’s not right. The standard has to belong to us, not to chance.

One thing I’m stubborn about is milk jugs. I wash them after every drink. I refuse to top up previously steamed milk with fresh milk and carry on. It’s not for me, and it never will be.

Beyond drinks sold, this represents success and pride, but also proof. We started having never made barista coffee before, never run a café kitchen, and certainly without the aim of becoming known for scones. And yet here we are, years in, still caring, still learning, still trying to do it properly.

So, over 16,000 coffees later, I’m proud of what we’ve built, one drink at a time.