Slow Coffee in Shanghai: A Hidden Café That Invites You to Take Your Time

 As one of China’s top-tier metropolitan cities, Shanghai, to me, is defined not only by its remarkable openness and cultural diversity, but also by one underlying force that fuels it all: speed.

It’s a city where even red lights make you want to hurry across the street. Time here is measured with precision—subways arrive every few minutes, food deliveries show up within minutes, emails are expected to be answered within minutes. Beneath the city’s glamour often lies a quiet sense of anxiety. Sometimes, when we step into a café, it’s not entirely for the coffee—it’s to catch our breath.

Maybe it’s the younger generation that understands this quiet helplessness the most. That’s why the phrase “Take your time in life” feels especially gentle. And it was exactly this kind of gentleness that moved me during my recent visit.

Tucked away at 222 Danshui Road in Shanghai’s Huangpu District is a café with a simple, memorable name: Buji Café Shop. Buji—which literally means “no rush”—echoes the message displayed right at the entrance: “Take your time in life.” In a city where “faster” has become a form of productivity, and coffee itself is often reduced to a functional caffeine fix, this place feels like a quiet act of resistance—an invitation to slow down and simply sit for a while.

I especially love the storefront of Buji. Paired with a bicycle overflowing with fresh flowers, it feels like a scene from an early spring outing—effortless and serene. I’m quite familiar with Danshui Road; over the years, I’ve visited many cafés here. The narrow, old streets carry a sense of local culture, along with the warmth of everyday life. If you truly take the time to experience Shanghai, you’ll find that beneath the fast-paced surface, there’s a softness capable of healing you. “Taking it slow” here isn’t about laziness or giving up—it’s more like being told: here, you’re allowed not to rush.

Right by the entrance sits a fish tank filled with tropical fish, catching the attention of nearly everyone who passes by. Some children gently tap on the glass to interact, others pause to watch, and some are drawn inside, ordering a coffee and quietly observing the fish glide freely through the water. In a way, this too feels like the perfect expression of “taking it slow.”

The café itself is compact, but the high ceiling makes it feel open and airy. There’s also a small loft upstairs—a cozy little nook you can claim as your own. If you’re looking for a quiet moment alone, the downstairs area feels like a sanctuary for the soul.

In a place like this, I prefer sitting at the bar. It gives me a reason to spend two minutes watching a shot of espresso slowly drip into the cup. I can zone out while staring at the fish tank—and I even noticed one particularly assertive fish claiming the best spot where the water temperature and oxygen levels are just right. A row of unfamiliar potted plants sits nearby, each quietly radiating resilience. In that moment, I realized this kind of “slowness” isn’t about procrastination—it’s about carving out a space for yourself within the city’s dense rhythm, a space that isn’t dictated by efficiency.

The café offers four house espresso beans, each with its own catchy name. After taking a closer look, I put together my own combination. The barista even complimented my order, saying it’s a favorite among many regulars—so I must’ve done something right, haha.

One of their single-origin espresso options, called “Orange Sea,” is a dark-roasted natural Ethiopian. Its dry aroma, enhanced by the deeper roast, carries hints of chocolate, but more prominently, notes of dried fruit. It holds onto the classic foundation of traditional espresso while adding layers of flavor complexity, making it a highly versatile bean.

I naturally chose it for a flat white. The result was smooth and well-balanced, with a rich sweetness. It turned out cleaner than I expected, filled with dried fruit notes—like red fruits transformed into fruit leather—along with a soft, rounded texture reminiscent of a creamy cake.

At that moment, the phrase “Take your time in life”—displayed above the bar—felt like more than just decoration. It seemed like a declaration of the owner’s philosophy toward extraction. Not every Ethiopian coffee needs to be lightly roasted to preserve floral notes. A darker roast, when done right, can bring out the richness of dried fruits and a creamy softness—an unexpected delight worth savoring slowly. And by allowing enough time for the coffee grounds and water to interact, you extract the bean’s most authentic flavors. This kind of “slowness” is a form of respect for the integrity of the coffee.

For contrast, I also chose a lighter, medium roast option—a Colombian washed coffee called “La Vie en Rose.” Its dry aroma carries a hint of tropical fruit. It works especially well as a black coffee, since an Americano allows the flavors to fully open up. You’ll taste a bright balance of fruity acidity and sweetness, followed by notes of caramel and a touch of chocolate toward the finish. Its layered profile evolves with each sip, offering a vivid, almost tangible sense of progression.

Talking about “taking it slow” in Shanghai is, in many ways, both a luxury and a form of romance. It’s not about giving up the hustle—it’s about knowing that when you’re tired, there’s a chair waiting for you; when it rains, there’s a warm cup of coffee ready. Life is long—it won’t be defined by the time it takes to enjoy one cup of coffee.

To me, the phrase on the storefront is also an invitation. To those who walk in, it says: there’s no rush here—you can sit all afternoon and leave whenever you’re ready. And to those just passing by: even if you don’t step inside, if that one sentence makes you pause for a second, brings a faint smile to your lips, or makes you quietly think, “Yeah… no need to rush,” then you’ve already formed a warm, subtle connection—with this café, and with the city itself.

Flat White or F*ck Off: The London Coffee Pop-Up Challenging the Paradox of Choice

 As the specialty coffee industry continues to evolve, we’re seeing a clear shift. It’s no longer just about high-quality flavors or standout service—it’s moving toward increasingly refined, scenario-based experiences designed to meet highly personalized preferences.

Take milk-based coffee, for example. Back in the day, there wasn’t really a choice—milk meant whole dairy, period. But now? Oat milk, almond milk, coconut milk, soy milk… it feels like any kind of milk you can think of can go into your coffee. And while this level of customization does seem thoughtful and user-friendly, there’s a downside we can’t ignore: pushing endlessly in this direction makes café operations slower, more complicated, and ultimately adds a kind of burden to the industry.

Out of this tension, a radically unconventional coffee concept was born: Flat White or F*ck Off, straight out of London. Yeah—just reading the name might feel a little… offensive. But not in a way that turns you away. In fact, that anti-“over-optimization” attitude sparks curiosity and resonates with younger audiences.

Flat White or F*ck Off is a bold pop-up café concept that’s been making waves in London recently. At its core, it’s a reaction against the overwhelming personalization of modern coffee culture. The founder believes that too many choices—different milk options, syrups, cup sizes—not only slow down service but also exhaust customers. So their philosophy is simple: extreme minimalism and maximum efficiency. One coffee. No options.

The name itself is undeniably bold, but it’s not just a burst of youthful frustration. It actually traces back to a joke by marketing expert Rory Sutherland, Vice Chairman of Ogilvy. In a podcast in early 2025, he complained about how tedious coffee ordering had become and joked about opening a café that only serves flat whites—so people could just grab their coffee and go.

The idea quickly spread online. Later, graphic designer Charlie Hurts picked it up and turned it into a striking series of brand designs. He then collaborated with content creator Tom Noble and Lucia Sudlow from the creative production studio Ask The Impossible to bring this satirical concept to life as a real-world pop-up experience.

True to its name, Flat White or F*ck Off offers exactly one thing on the menu: a flat white. No alternative coffee drinks, no milk substitutes, no flavored syrups, no cup size options—not even a physical menu. If you don’t order a flat white, well… as the second half of the name suggests, you’ll be politely (or not so politely) asked to leave. Honestly, the profanity in the name acts as a natural filter. It grabs attention, but it also scares off potential venue partners who might find it too crude. In a way, it’s a two-way filter—screening both customers and collaborators. And yet, despite that, they succeeded. That’s undeniable.

If you check out their website, you’ll see that the entire visual identity carries that same rebellious, unrestrained energy. Their first offline appearance was on January 28, 2026, when they launched a one-day pop-up at Outernet in London. The results? Pretty astonishing—and they proudly showcase the numbers right on their homepage.

In just one day, they sold 1,500 flat whites, used 24 kilograms of coffee beans, and went through 270 liters of milk.

At the time I was writing this article—during the Chinese New Year period—they were preparing for a Valentine’s weekend activation (February 12–14). While the results hadn’t been published yet, they hosted another pop-up at South Bank in London. This time, they fully leaned into their brand’s humor, even throwing in limited-edition branded condoms as a giveaway with each coffee.

Flat White or F*ck Off is, without a doubt, backed by a highly professional branding and marketing team. From visual identity to execution details, everything is sharply aligned with their core brand positioning. Even before officially launching, they built hype online by documenting the process on social media platforms like TikTok, generating over 2 million impressions—proof of just how compelling and conversation-worthy the concept is.

In my view, the success of Flat White or F*ck Off isn’t just about selling coffee. It’s a social experiment—and a marketing statement—about the “paradox of choice.” Through provocation, it offers a kind of blunt but refreshing relief for consumers exhausted by endless decisions. It’s like giving people permission to release all that quiet, built-up frustration in one go.

And honestly—couldn’t that be considered a strange but genuine act of self-care?

Pretty brilliant, if you ask me.

Elixir Coffee Roasters Fratelli Blend Review: A Versatile Espresso Blend from Brisbane

 Do you remember the café-hopping trip I shared a while ago in Brisbane, Australia?Among those stops, one that I introduced with particular enthusiasm was the Australian roaster Elixir Coffee Roasters, a long-established brand founded in 2007. I even bought three bags of their coffee beans right in the shop—haha. In many Australian cafés, roasted coffee beans are displayed in glass cabinets almost like roasted snacks. You can browse and pick your favorite beans the way you might choose nuts or trail mix. It’s actually quite a unique shopping experience. Not only do you get exactly what you see, but once you place your order, the staff will pack the beans fresh for you on the spot, ensuring they’re within the optimal tasting window. You can basically take them home and start brewing immediately.

While I was in the shop, I quickly became intrigued by their signature house espresso blend, Fratelli Blend, which has been a staple there for years. Fratelli means “brothers” in Italian, symbolizing the idea of harmony and unity—different flavor “brothers” coming together to create an unmatched and distinctive flavor bond. Since neither their website nor my conversation with the staff revealed the exact composition of the blend, I didn’t dig too deeply into the details. But I have to say, the Fratelli espresso blend is truly unique.

At the café, I ordered a Flat White made with this blend. The cup had a bold yet refined profile—complex but balanced. The mouthfeel was rich and full-bodied, with a gentle hint of citrus acidity. Overall, it leaned toward a softer balance with a pronounced sweetness. After just one Flat White, it was clear that this blend would be highly versatile in different coffee drinks.

When evaluating a veteran roaster like Elixir Coffee Roasters, the best approach is often to try their long-standing house espresso blend. These blends are usually adjusted seasonally with different single-origin components to maintain the desired flavor profile. For cafés that have maintained a strong reputation for years, the real core competency lies in roasting consistency and flavor stability—these factors are almost decisive. The Fratelli Blend even won Bronze medals at the 2019 Sydney Royal Fine Food Show in both the Espresso and Latte categories.

Once ground, the dry aroma of the beans carries strong notes of nuts and chocolate. Despite being roasted to a medium level, the coffee still carries an impressively high sweetness that wraps around the aroma, making the overall flavor profile feel extremely comforting and approachable.

Naturally, I started with a shot of espresso. The crema was outstanding—thick, rich, and beautifully structured. On the palate, there’s a lively brightness that plays between gentle acidity and dark chocolate. This is followed by a pleasant sweetness and a subtle bitterness that leads into a lingering aftertaste. Toward the finish, the sweetness expands even further before the cup closes with a clean and balanced ending. Overall, the flavor progression is powerful in the beginning, softer and smoother in the middle, and long-lasting in the finish.

The aroma carried by that crema is also wonderfully rich and inviting. Because of that, this blend really shines in milk-based drinks, so I made both a Flat White and a Latte to see how the flavor changed with different milk ratios.

In a Flat White, where there is less milk, the coffee character becomes more prominent. The nutty and chocolate notes appear clearer and more defined, giving the drink a slightly cookie-like flavor profile. This was also the drink I had ordered in the café itself. From the first sip, the flavor opens with a molasses-like richness, followed by dessert-like aromas reminiscent of honey and malt, and then finishes with a smooth caramel sweetness.

When prepared as a Latte, the profile shifts noticeably. It becomes more creamy, with gentle almond-like notes, accompanied by a very smooth caramel sweetness. The overall flavor leans toward a softer and more balanced profile. Personally, I think it works even better as a latte—the layers remain clear and expressive, yet the texture feels milder and more approachable.

In addition, I also tried brewing it as both a hot Americano and an Orange Americano. One of the biggest advantages of this blend is its incredible versatility. Even when paired with orange juice, the coffee’s presence remains strong and distinctive.

At its core, the blend is defined by a syrupy body and moderate acidity. The flavor opens with a molasses-like richness, gradually gathering notes of honey and malt along the way. With such solid sweetness and mouthfeel, even a simple Americano carries a pleasant, gentle citrus brightness, which lifts the otherwise classic nut-and-chocolate profile and makes it feel much more lively and dynamic.

Muchun Coffee Hangzhou｜A Quiet Neighborhood Café with a Dog & Specialty Coffee

 For me, making a trip to Xiaoshan is no small thing. A one-way subway ride costs 9 yuan, which somehow already feels like crossing city borders just to be here. Walking through the streets of Xiaoshan always stirs mixed emotions in me. I don’t really recognize anything anymore, yet at the same time, it all seems faintly connected to memories buried deep inside. Maybe in a past life I had some unfinished bond with Hangzhou. That must be why, in this life, I struggle my way here again and again, just to leave a mark in my own story.

Xiaoshan was where my Hangzhou journey first began. Even as time passes and visits become rare, I still hope to find moments that move me or surprise me when I return. Today, I want to talk about a café called Muchun Coffee, located at No. 24 Baichilou Road, Xiaoshan District, Hangzhou. It was recommended to me by a friend long ago, saved and bookmarked for ages, quietly waiting for the right moment of fate.

Sometimes my encounters with cafés feel very Libra-like — calm, unforced, and go-with-the-flow. No planning, no awkward small talk, just something that happens naturally. Muchun Coffee sits on a street corner, visible from both sides. I happened to approach from the side with the smaller entrance. As I pushed open the door, I was greeted by an adorable Border Collie with one pirate eye. Later I learned he’s the shop dog, a four-year-old named “Baiwan.”

Baiwan welcomed me enthusiastically the moment I stepped inside. I gave him a good head pat — he was way too cute to resist. Truly a professional shop dog. Once you’re greeted like that, how could you not stay for a few extra cups? 😂

“Muchun” — I personally like to read it as “Bathing in Spring.” Maybe it’s because this year’s winter has been unusually warm, or maybe it’s the gentle indoor heat combined with the café’s minimalist design, tinged with subtle Japanese aesthetics. Everything feels like a soft spring breeze. I really love the atmosphere of a true neighborhood café. Even on a weekday afternoon, customers kept coming in, one after another — most of them regulars.

I chose a quiet corner seat by the bar. This time, I just wanted to drink my coffee in peace. A regular sitting at the bar smiled at me and said, “Why don’t you come sit with us and chat?” It was the first time a stranger had ever invited me like that. My introvert instincts kicked in immediately — today I just wanted to enjoy being alone — but still, I felt genuinely warmed by the gesture.

Every corner of this small café feels like a frozen frame of beauty. Discovering it was like unlocking a tiny world of its own. And it made me wonder: whose “small world” are we living in right now? The details tucked away in each corner feel almost microscopic, drawing you in effortlessly. Even waiting for the coffee to be ready felt unusually short.

I have zero resistance to dogs. I adore them. Baiwan, the four-year-old social butterfly, does his best to greet everyone. It’s like he can sense your mood and emotional state. That kind of healing presence is really hard to put into words. Looking into his eyes, I even caught a glimpse of something wise — or maybe I’m just projecting, haha. High intelligence really does require social interaction to meet emotional needs, doesn’t it? Petting him was pure joy.

Honestly, it feels like Baiwan is the real owner of the place. The house blend is even named after him. I ordered their default No.1 bean, the “Baiwan Blend,” as a flat white to open up my palate. Clean, clear notes of nuts and chocolate. My only requirement for a café’s house beans is simple: as long as they’re clean, I’m happy. The finish had a lovely lingering sweetness. Delicious.

I also ordered a Geisha blend as a hot Americano. It had been a long time since I last tasted something that truly screamed “Geisha.” The moment the cup reached my lips, I was already smiling. Even the wet aroma was bursting with floral and fruity notes — citrus, dried berries, and rose. I could almost pinpoint it to Damask rose, that distinct rose hydrosol vibe. A hint of fermentation layered on top gave it a subtle “rose pastry” impression. So good. And the price? Beautiful. After being surrounded by trendy, flashy, influencer-driven cafés in the city, finding a place where you can just sit quietly, drink good coffee, skip the gimmicks, and feel genuine sincerity — that’s incredibly precious.

Four-year-old Baiwan has such pure and honest expressions. While I was sitting there, he would whimper softly and scratch at the door whenever a familiar customer left, like mild separation anxiety. His owner would gently reassure him, “They’re just stepping out for a moment.” At four years old, he’s already mature and calm — yet the instant a toy is thrown, he lights up with uncontrollable joy. A dog’s world is that simple. So simple that your presence becomes their entire universe.

Maybe he didn’t like seeing me sitting alone in the corner. He came over, stood by my side, and let me pet him freely, wearing the most satisfied expression on his face. In that moment, we gave each other love — quietly, sincerely, and completely.

Retracing Coffee Hangzhou Review | A Cozy Neighborhood Café with Warm Winter Vibes

 It’s been quite a while since I last wandered around Chengbei. I’ve always felt that this area was something of a coffee desert. But as the city continues to grow and more people live and work here, it’s clear that Chengbei, too, needs the kind of human warmth and care that only neighborhood cafés can offer. I’ve always believed that every community café is like a tiny star in the night sky—its light may be subtle, but it’s enough to illuminate your inner world. That feeling when a cup of coffee goes down and everything instantly feels brighter… who really understands that better than us?

The café I want to talk about today is Retracing Coffee, located at No. 120 Huayuangang Street, Gongshu District, Hangzhou. It had been sitting in my saved list for quite some time, and I finally found a moment to come here just for a proper cup of coffee. As soon as I drove onto Huayuangang Street, I spotted it. The quiet, understated storefront immediately draws your eye—exactly the kind of presence a neighborhood café should have. For me, the most comforting part of a winter café visit begins the moment you push open the door. The warm air from the heater creates an instant sense of belonging. Yes, this is the stop. This is the place.

I genuinely love the interior layout of Retracing Coffee. The space is actually quite large, and its split-level design creates a strong sense of depth while giving different seating areas a feeling of privacy. The seating density is low, with generous spacing that gives everyone a sense of ease and security—no matter where you sit, you’ll feel comfortable. At the front, there’s a small living-room-style sofa area; perfect for two or three friends to gather and chat. The central area features a square bar that acts as both a visual transition and a breathing space between seating zones. Walk up a few steps and you’ll reach the back area, where there’s plenty of open, uncluttered space that feels wonderfully refreshing. This also happens to be what I discovered as the “best seat in the house,” since you can take in almost the entire café from here. Highly recommended—seriously.

By default, the café offers three espresso beans to choose from. Alongside a classic house blend with traditional flavor profiles, there are two single-origin espresso options. I’d say this is a solid, well-considered setup for a café that aims to satisfy different taste preferences. I started with their No. 1 house bean, the “Dark Roast Candy Blend,” in a flat white. This blend combines Ethiopian, Brazilian, and Ugandan beans. The flavor leans heavily toward dark chocolate, with a subtle hint of spice. The integration is well done, giving the drink a round, smooth mouthfeel right from the first sip. With its solid body and clean sweetness, it’s a very traditional, no-surprises kind of base blend—but honestly, it feels perfect for winter. Exactly what a winter cup of coffee should taste like.

I also ordered a hot Americano made with a medium-light roast Ethiopian Huakui single origin. I’ve been drinking quite a lot of Huakui this year, and I’ve noticed that many roasters tend to prioritize compatibility and stability when roasting SOE for cafés. If the roast is too light, milk-based drinks can end up tasting thin and lacking in character. And from a market perspective, bright, high-acidity African coffees still aren’t universally embraced. So I’ve come to a pretty clear conclusion: most Huakui SOEs on the market today are developed a bit longer to achieve a more balanced flavor profile that works well across different brew methods.

This hot Americano was served slightly hotter than what I’d consider immediately drinkable—and that actually made sense. In winter, coffee loses heat quickly, so a slightly higher serving temperature works well. While many people now prefer Americanos with filtered-out oils for a cleaner, supposedly healthier cup, I still love an Americano with crema. It’s just more aromatic—no shame in that. At higher temperatures, the flavors are relatively subdued, almost like drinking a hot tea. You can take your time and enjoy how the flavors evolve as the cup cools. When it reaches a medium temperature, the signature Ethiopian citrus notes and gentle acidity start to emerge. Overall, the cup is well-balanced and restrained in its expression, with very soft acidity and a finish reminiscent of white tea.

I don’t often order desserts at cafés, but the menu noted that their banana pancake is made to order, freshly baked—and that instantly caught my attention. Pancakes really are one of those old-school café pairings, and it had been years since I last had one. So I enjoyed my coffee on its own first, and by the time I finished, the pancake arrived at the table. Even while drinking my coffee, I could smell the incredibly inviting, milky aroma of the pancake baking. That moment was pure comfort. The owner had clearly tested the recipe many times, and you can tell she puts real care into her work. That sense of love is something you can taste in every bite. The pancake here is truly a signature item: the exterior is wonderfully bouncy, while the inside is rich with eggy aroma and an excellent texture.

The pancake is brushed with a thin layer of maple syrup and topped with fresh banana slices. The sweetness is well-balanced, since the bananas themselves already provide plenty of natural sugar. The finishing touch is a light sprinkle of dark chocolate on top of the bananas. That subtle bitterness within the sweetness adds depth, balances the overall flavor, and allows each ingredient to shine. It’s incredibly satisfying—freshly baked, fragrant, and genuinely delicious.

Retracing Coffee closes at 7 p.m. every evening. Chatting with the café owner was so enjoyable that I completely lost track of time—once again, a café visit that lasted right up until closing. It was such a beautiful experience. Under the night sky, Retracing Coffee becomes like a small lighthouse standing quietly on the corner, guiding your way forward. Cafés are magical like that. Simply by existing, they make the world a little more beautiful.

Almost Relax Café in Hangzhou | A Cozy Coffee Shop That Celebrates Imperfection

 “Almost” is a word that carries a familiar life attitude in Chinese culture. It reflects a way of thinking rooted in balance—a practical philosophy for living. Not too much, not too little. Go with the flow. Stay tolerant of imperfection. Avoid the exhaustion that comes from obsessive precision. I think this is the state many young people today are trying to explore—or hoping to become. “Almost” is no longer the numbed indifference produced by social conditioning; instead, it has become a resilient survival strategy for ordinary people navigating life with limited resources.

I don’t know whether the café I’m talking about today consciously embraces this philosophy, but the moment you read its name, you feel a sense of release—like pressure quietly lifting off your chest. As Little Snake Gary once said, “My family doesn’t expect me to shoulder all the responsibility, because I don’t have shoulders!”
Located at 540 Wener West Road in Hangzhou’s Xihu District, Almost Relax Café gives off an easygoing, free-spirited vibe the instant you see it. Even the typography on the storefront looks relaxed, as if it’s telling you to slow down.

This winter in Hangzhou barely feels like winter at all. It’s been warm, almost spring-like, and on a gentle afternoon bathed in soft sunlight, all the pleasant, tender sensations seem to gather in one moment. There’s a slight sense of time being out of sync, which somehow makes everything feel more precious. Come have a couple of coffees at this quietly charming neighborhood spot. The ups and downs of the western part of the city carry so many people’s memories.
Not long ago, I read news about Xicheng Plaza gradually declining, and it stirred a lot of emotions. After all, it was an important part of my youth. A large chapter of my life has been intertwined with Hangzhou. This café sits right across the street from Xicheng Plaza—old memories and new scenes separated by just one road. That emotional contrast feels subtle, but it lingers.

Almost Relax Café has a two-story loft layout. The first floor is mainly for ordering and short breaks—a busier zone—while the second floor feels much quieter and more at ease. You can place your order downstairs and then head up to choose a seat you like. The stairs are a bit steep, but once you’re up there, it doesn’t feel cramped at all. I like sitting by the window. In the afternoon, the sun no longer shines directly in, but there are flowers, greenery, and even a cute Doraemon in view—pure, gentle comfort for the eyes.

I also noticed how friendly the pricing on the menu is. Whether it’s pour-over or espresso-based drinks, the prices feel refreshingly reasonable. The café defaults to two espresso beans. This time, I didn’t ask about the specific origins—I just wanted to rely on my own senses and enjoy a personal coffee moment.
I ordered a flat white made with their house blend. The cup was slightly larger than a standard flat white, but given the dark-roast profile—black chocolate and nutty notes with a hint of wildness—the extra milk actually made it more approachable for me. I didn’t ask about the exact blend, but judging by the flavors, it seemed like a combination of Ethiopian and Brazilian beans, possibly with another South American component.

The latte art was simple, even a little clumsy—a basic heart. Yet compared to flawlessly executed, competition-level patterns, what was in front of me felt more real, more beautiful. Perhaps the western side of the city will always be my “home base.” Everything here feels justified, worthy of unconditional acceptance. Just like those familiar cups of coffee, quietly touching something sensitive inside you when you least expect it.

I also tried a medium-roast SOE, likely an African bean, and chose a hot Americano. The temperature control was excellent—ready to drink the moment it was served. The water temperature was just right. I picked up citrus notes, dried tropical fruit, and a faint hint of spice within the fruity profile. It was clean overall, with a caramel sweetness lingering in the finish.

When the hot Americano was brought upstairs, the owner smiled and said, “This second floor really tests your sense of balance—I spilled a bit all the way up.”
For some reason, I laughed at that moment. It felt like the distance between me and the café instantly shrank. Yes—everything seems to be almost like this. A little imperfect. But isn’t perfection its own kind of poison? It strips away your individuality and edge, erases that slightly awkward charm and raw sincerity, and dulls everything that’s genuine and original.

So is “almost” just settling for less? Not at all.
“Almost” is a philosophy of leaving space. In the raging current of material desire and relentless striving, instead of following along without choice, it might be better—at certain moments—to give yourself a pause. A breath. Permission for imperfection to exist. Acceptance of whatever comes.