Showing posts with label Cafe Culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cafe Culture. Show all posts

Saturday, January 24, 2026

Authentic Australian Coffee in China 🇦🇺☕ | A Hidden Café Gem in Old Yuhang

 Living in Cangqian, Yuhang, I’d somehow never really explored the cafés around my neighborhood. I always assumed this area was a bit of a “coffee desert.” That belief was completely overturned recently when a close friend invited me to check out a café in Old Yuhang. One visit in, and—boom—I unlocked a hidden gem that I couldn’t wait to tell people about. Friends in Old Yuhang, you’re in luck. The place is Lanini Café, located at No. 200-21 Fenghuangshan Road, Yuhang District.

The reason I say you can get authentic Australian coffee here is simple: Lanini is a small, community-style café run by a husband-and-wife team, with the owner being Australian. They have three adorable daughters, and the café’s name comes from the girls’ names. Even the logo—three little girls with pigtails—was drawn by their daughters themselves. It’s incredibly heartwarming.

There’s also a sweet dog at the entrance—the café mascot—who’s already 10 years old. He was taken in by the owner, and you’ll even spot his face on the coffee bean bags inside (which always makes me smile). All these little details give the space a strong family vibe, and you can feel that warmth the moment you see the storefront. Lanini has been around in Old Yuhang for years now, and it’s a favorite among nearby residents and foreign teachers who come for Western food and good coffee. While I was there, several groups of regulars dropped by, which instantly made me feel how lovely and tight-knit the local community is.

Don’t be fooled by the fact that Lanini is a couple-run café—both the coffee and the food menu are impressively extensive. The menu behind the bar actually takes up two or three chalkboards. Beyond coffee and meals, they also serve craft beer and wine, making it a perfect “coffee by day, alcohol by night” kind of place. From morning caffeine to evening relaxation, Lanini pretty much takes care of your emotional needs all day long.

From the exterior to the interior, there’s a subtle old-school charm, and the menu itself feels refreshingly different from most cafés in China. It’s much more like a neighborhood café you’d find overseas—food-forward, with coffee as a supporting (but still very important) role.

The café isn’t large, but during this warm winter season, many guests choose to sit outside, soaking up the sun with a panini and a cup of coffee. It’s the kind of simple happiness that’s hard to beat. The atmosphere here instantly breaks the ice and brings people closer together. The owner’s wife is incredibly warm and welcoming, and you really feel that food made with love carries emotion. It’s that irresistible, comforting “home-style” experience.

Coincidentally, I’ll be heading to Australia again in a few days, so consider this a little teaser—there will be café-hopping stories from Australia coming soon. In a way, visiting Lanini felt like the perfect warm-up for my second trip down under.

Naturally, the first thing I ordered was coffee. Their Flat White is the most representative choice here. The house bean is a more traditional profile with nutty and dark chocolate notes, roasted on a custom curve developed together with their roaster. Personally, I find this flat white very Australian in style. The integration is excellent—smooth and rounded from the first sip to the last. That kind of consistency alone is enough to keep you coming back for more.

Flavor-wise, on top of the nut and chocolate base, there’s an impressive sense of balance. That balance includes cleanliness and a solid underlying sweetness, making it extremely easy to drink. Yes, many cafés use nutty, chocolatey blends as their default, and at first glance they may seem similar. But once you slow down and really taste, the differences become clear. Some blends push complexity and even lean into wild, spicy notes. Others—like Lanini’s—focus on balance, cleanliness, and sweetness, delivering a consistent flavor experience in every sip.

We also ordered quite a few dishes, each with its own character. You can even unlock a hidden menu here and enjoy a Lanini-style omakase experience—just for fun. The pumpkin soup is something I highly recommend as a starter. Its thickness and silky texture are spot-on, honestly outperforming many Western restaurants in the city by a long shot. One spoonful in, and it’s full of pleasant surprises. Pair it with an avocado vegetable salad, and you won’t even miss the dressing—it’s satisfying on its own.

Cinnamon is the flavor of winter. I have a very seasonal craving for the aroma of Ceylon cinnamon, and a cinnamon roll in winter is always a win (even better with a cinnamon latte). This is also very Australian in spirit, though the sweetness has clearly been adjusted to suit local tastes—significantly reduced, thankfully. Don’t ask how I know; let’s just say I’ve been traumatized by overly sweet cinnamon rolls in Australia before (laughs).

The freshly baked cinnamon roll has a slight crispness on the outside, while the Ceylon cinnamon is beautifully gentle and approachable. Topped with a bit of cream and a drizzle of maple syrup, plus generous chunks of walnuts inside for texture and surprise, it’s something that works for a wide range of palates. There’s no overpowering spice—trust me, it’s really good.

This visit to Lanini left me with a quiet realization: so many good things are right around us, yet so easy to miss. Maybe there’s no such thing as a “desert” after all. If you’re willing to wander deeper into your local streets and corners, you’ll always find little places quietly shining—sometimes surprising you when you least expect it. ✨

Wednesday, January 7, 2026

Why Is It So Hard to Find Good Coffee in China’s Scenic Areas? | Travel & Coffee Culture Insights

 Perhaps it was my off-season, three-day leisurely trip to Qiandao Lake that sparked these reflections. In a place so heavily dependent on tourism—one that essentially “works for half the year and rests for the other half”—the quiet of the low season leaves plenty of room to think. Even before I arrived, one question kept bothering me: why is it so hard to find a café around the entire Qiandao Lake area that genuinely cares about quality and tries to build a specialty coffee community?

Beyond the obvious issue of young people leaving the area, the more fundamental reason lies in the nature of the place itself. Qiandao Lake is a nationally rated 5A scenic destination, famous for its natural landscapes. Along roads like “Sunshine Road,” what you mostly see are scenic attractions and hotels. Why is it that scenic areas in China usually don’t have good coffee? This isn’t just a personal bias—it’s a fairly common and accurate observation. In most tourist areas, it’s genuinely difficult to find a cup of specialty coffee that offers both high quality and reasonable pricing.

There’s an important underlying factor behind this phenomenon: scenic areas typically operate on a “traffic economy.” The hotel I stayed at costs around 300 RMB per night during the off-season, but in peak season, the same room can go for over 2,000 RMB. Unsurprisingly, commercial rents in the core scenic zones are often astronomical. Under this kind of cost pressure, businesses naturally chase high margins, fast turnover, and quick cash flow. From a purely commercial perspective, cost control is everything. Specialty coffee, however, requires higher-quality green beans, careful roasting, and meticulous preparation cup by cup. Compared to selling bottled water, instant milk tea, or a grilled sausage, specialty coffee simply isn’t as efficient in terms of profit per square meter or per minute.

Another key factor is the customer base. The main consumers in scenic areas are tourists from all over the country. When I visited Qiandao Lake in the off-season, there were barely any locals walking around—it was eerily quiet. Some local restaurants even had to step outside their shops to actively solicit passersby. In the low season, seeing someone pulling a suitcase almost feels like spotting a rare treasure. Tourists, as a target audience, consume for very specific reasons: they’re tired, thirsty, or looking for a place that looks good for photos. Most people aren’t there for a serious coffee-tasting experience. For the majority, a sweet milk tea or an ice-cold drink delivers faster, more immediate satisfaction during a tiring journey.

Tourists also share another distinct consumption trait: it’s usually a one-off transaction. Repeat visits are rare, which means businesses lack incentive to build long-term customer relationships. Specialty coffee shops, on the other hand, are often community-oriented—they focus on cultivating taste, sharing coffee knowledge, and creating a “living room” atmosphere. Their business model depends on repeat customers and loyal regulars. Scenic-area cafés don’t really need high-quality products to attract customers; they’re driven by a more pragmatic commercial strategy, favoring low-cost, high-margin, standardized fast-moving goods.

Then there are the practical constraints. Making good coffee requires fresh beans, quality milk, reasonably high-end machines, and clean, well-filtered water. Not every scenic area can meet these conditions. In more remote destinations, these challenges are even greater, making quality coffee all the more difficult to achieve.

Beyond hardware, talent is another major bottleneck. Good baristas require training, practice, and time. Scenic areas aren’t particularly attractive for such roles, and staff turnover is high. It’s hard to train and retain people who are willing to truly commit to coffee quality. That said, I did have a small, pleasant surprise this time. The lobby bar at the voco Sunshine Hotel where I stayed offered a welcome drink, and for once, I chose a latte. After a brief chat, I got the sense that the barista actually had “barista vibes.” The result? Honestly—not bad at all. Forget the bean flavor profile for a second; the milk and espresso integration alone deserved a thumbs-up. Clean, balanced, and genuinely better than expected. To be fair, it was better than the coffee at some hotels in downtown Hangzhou.

There’s also a broader cultural reality to consider. Specialty coffee culture in China is still largely concentrated among younger consumers in coastal regions like the Yangtze River Delta and Guangdong. While coffee consumption in Chinese cities is growing rapidly, for the wider tourist population—especially older generations or visitors from non–first-tier cities—coffee itself isn’t even a daily necessity, let alone specialty coffee. Many people still prefer familiar tea drinks or soft beverages. On top of that, tourists have already spent heavily on tickets, transportation, and accommodation, which makes them more price-sensitive toward the already inflated prices inside scenic areas. A 30–40 RMB cup of specialty coffee simply doesn’t feel worth it to many.

Another issue lies in how scenic areas招商 (tenant selection) is handled. There’s often little effort to differentiate categories or protect diversity. You end up seeing the same homogenized businesses everywhere. From a planning perspective, there’s a lack of originality, with a strong preference for proven, well-known chain brands. As a result, commercial streets in scenic areas across the country all start to look the same. Some operators may think that bringing in international chains like Starbucks or Costa signals “taste” or “quality,” but these brands rely on standardized flavors, lack local character, and don’t necessarily integrate with the cultural context of the destination. In Qiandao Lake alone, there are four Starbucks locations, basically covering every major tourist or prime commercial area. Given that coffee demand isn’t especially concentrated to begin with, whatever demand does exist often gets fully absorbed by Starbucks.

So, in the end, the general lack of good coffee in Chinese scenic areas is essentially a rational market outcome under a specific business model. When the dominant consumer mindset is about resting, grabbing a quick drink, or checking in for photos, insisting on high-quality coffee becomes both idealistic and economically inefficient. That said, nothing is static. Specialty coffee in China still has enormous growth potential. As consumption upgrades and tourism increasingly shifts toward experience-oriented travel, the idea of enjoying genuinely good coffee in scenic areas may not be so far-fetched after all. And honestly, I do hope more destinations start taking consumer experience seriously and offer better-quality products. After all, breathtaking scenery paired with a surprisingly good pour-over? That’s pretty close to paradise.