200g of sugar

200g of water

A splash of vanilla and almond extract

Condensed milk

A pinch of salt

Heat. Dissolve. Whisk. Serve. Easy, right?

While relatively simple, the actual task at hand was far from it. Picture me the night before, scrambling up until closing time at my local grocery store, trying to find enough almond extract to last me the weekend, and waking up an hour before work to carefully and quietly assemble a weekend’s worth of syrup without waking anyone. Over the course of the week, I had to redo batches, make up substitutions on the fly, and even spilled one container all over my passenger seat due to a faulty lid.

Still, I couldn’t stop my excitement as I told every customer, “Try our Birthday Cake latte, featuring our own house-made syrup.”

Recently, over the past few days, I’ve scrolled past videos of customers saying how they won’t visit a cafe unless they have in-house syrups, marking this as the new immediate, most observational “cafe red flag.”

When I made my video on cafe red flags (which you can watch here, in case you missed it), I based my observations on what I knew from behind the bar. For most customers, without that coffee knowledge, a technique misstep (like forgetting to wipe the steam wand after you use it) is harder to pinpoint. A recognizable syrup behind the bar, though? It’s a surefire way to decide whether you’re in a “good” or “bad” cafe.

While I’m all for experimentation and inspiration, I have to wonder: when did “made here” become synonymous with “made well”?

The growing preference for house-made syrup isn’t really about syrup; it’s part of a larger shift in how customers evaluate cafes, where visible evidence of labour, creativity, and intentionality increasingly functions as evidence of quality.

What “house-made” actually sells.

As someone who’s worked in a few cafés, I can tell you that syrup brands taste noticeably different. Take vanilla, for example: Torani is going to be way too sweet for my taste; 1883 needs a few extra pumps to get that classic vanilla flavour; and Monin is just… Monin.

The problem I’ve identified throughout my years of moving from cafe to cafe is that no matter where you are, each cafe can taste exactly the same cafes start to taste the same, no matter where you are (and even restaurants are experiencing this as well, on a larger scale).

My coworker came back from a trip to Europe, and we chatted about this incredible matcha bar she went to, where she had an equally incredible iced vanilla matcha. What made it so memorable? Not necessarily the matcha, the milk quality, or even the vibe of the place: it was the in-house vanilla bean syrup, which was so incredible we discussed where to source quality ingredients so that, we too, could recreate a magical moment.

Where commercial vanilla says, “this is vanilla,” house-made vanilla says, “this is our vanilla". In a landscape where menus (and spaces, and cities, and people… etc.) continue to resemble one another, ingredients become another opportunity for cafes to establish an identity of their own.

How does this fit in with specialty coffee?

Specialty coffee’s strength isn’t necessarily in defining what it is, but rather what it is not. And this is where our customers are particularly astute in discerning the differences, as we’re practically trained to ask: where was this coffee grown? Who produced it? How was it processed? Who roasted it? What’s the recipe? What water are you using?

We do all of this even before we take our their first sip, which shows how seriously we value intentionality in coffee. We want reasoning behind every decision, from where a coffee was sourced to what tasting notes are on the bag. This sense of certainty allows us to trust what’s in our cup, as well as the perceived value we have in it.

But what happens when that value system starts spreading beyond the coffee itself? If intentionality is synonymous with quality, suddenly every ingredient becomes another opportunity to demonstrate intentionality.

(And if you’re wondering if specialty coffee actually does this: read on, dear reader!)

The work behind the syrup

“House-made syrups,” ranging from your classic Vanilla and Caramel to Rhubarb Strawberry and Lavender Bergamont, sounds charming from the customer’s perspective. But, can I honest for a second?

Making syrups kind of sucks (for the most part, anyways.)

Behind the bar, someone needs to:

Think of the recipe → source the ingredients → try the recipe → revise it → scale it into a batched method → teach others how to make it consistently → prep it → bottle it → label/date it → store it → monitor the shelf life → make another batch → repeat for next season.

That’s not even equating for mistakes (because they happen), running out of supplies (because it happens all the time), unexpectedly blowing through a batch during a Saturday morning rush, or good old-fashioned human error: spilling it, making it incorrectly, storing it improperly, or even just looking at it wrong.

As we know, someone needs to be paid for it, and we’re asking this loop to be done on top of every other task that’s needed to keep a cafe up and running.

So, dear reader, I want you to ask yourself (as many cafes have asked themselves):

Is making this the best use of a cafe’s limited labour?

For some, yes, absolutely; for others, it’s just another operational system that they simply don’t have the capacity to maintain. And remember, reader, that for both, it’s completely valid.

A case for commercial syrups

In case no one has said it: commercial syrups aren’t inherently bad, nor should we treat them as such.

Commercial doesn’t automatically mean cheap or low-quality (some are even far from it!) A company specializing in syrups may have better formulation, consistency, shelf stability, food-safety processes and purchasing power than a small, independently-owned cafe.

And the bottom line is: consistency is what really matters here.

Let’s go back to my Birthday Cake latte, which is an incredible recipe, really.

My first batch couldn’t have gone better. The second time around? Different story. I got a little heavy-handed with my salting, and didn’t allow the second batch to truly dissolve before chucking it all into a mason jar and rushing off to work.

Unfortunately, while the first wave of customers had a delicious birthday treat to enjoy, the second wave had a particularly “brine-y” version of what the celebratory treat was supposed to be.

I had to ask myself: is the fact that I made this actually providing the customer with more value?

When we consider the entire cafe menu, it seems as though people are hyper-fixated on the sourcing and making of the syrups. However, why is it that a cafe can source frozen croissants from a bakery and have it viewed as a thoughtful partnership? Or use commerically produced oat milk without anyone batting an eye? Have matcha shipped from halfway around the world with no information on sourcing, flavour, anything, and everyone is used to it?

Why does outsourcing communicate discernment, while a commercial syrup communicates corner-cutting?

The concept of performative craft and practicing discernment.

While house-made products aren’t inherently performative, it becomes so when the act of making something becomes more important than whether making it actually produces a better product.

And, spoiler alert: your local cafe may be better because it decided whether or not to make its syrups in-house.

While one cafe can spend house each week producing a vanilla syrup only because customers expect to see “in-house” on the menu, another can test each commercially available vanilla syrups to see which one best compliments their locally roasted coffee.

Which cafe is being more intentional?

The alternative to celebrating “house-made” isn’t celebrating “commercial;” it’s valuing discernment. Did the cafe choose this ingredient because it’s good? Does it make the drink better? Does producing it internally add something distinctive? Can the cafe make it consistently and sustainably?

If yes; make the syrup

If not; invest in other areas and unapologetically buy the commercially made one.

If someone else makes a better version and buying it allows the cafe to focus on the thing it does particularly well, that can also be the craft.

(Remember that, please?)

So, what is a cafe actually supposed to make?

The boundaries of what we expect from cafes are strange; we don’t expect them to grow coffee, or necessarily roast it either. We don’t always expect them to bake their pastries, or be able to trace the origins for their chocolate or matcha. And yet, we’re beginning to have strong feelings about the precise location of where the vanilla syrup is made.

As your eyes inevitably gravitate toward the humble row of Monin bottles behind the bar, I ask you to consider that maybe the measure of a good cafe isn’t how much it makes itself, but how thoughtfully it decides what’s worth making. There’s craft in developing a vanilla syrup from scratch, but there can also be craft in choosing one that works for your coffee, your operational systems, your staff, and your budget.

Intentionality doesn’t always have to look like more labour; sometimes, it looks like knowing where your labour matters most.

With love, always,

Emily

Now that I’m sitting down to write this, I don’t think that’s actually true. At least, not entirely. Oftentimes, when I'm meeting friends, I’m always the first to suggest that we grab a coffee. We choose to visit a local cafe, our favourite. As I walk into the building, I say “hey” to the regulars occupying the benches outside. The baristas know my name and ask how my day is going. While I wait for my coffee, I glance at the community board beside the bar, taking photos of event posters I'll probably come back to later. I chat with my friend, and soak up the feeling of being in a good, safe, familiar place.

For a moment, it really feels like I belong there.

When Ray Oldenburg wrote his book, The Great Good Place, and introduced the concept of “third spaces,” this is what he was envisioning; a place other than your work or home where people could connect, talk to each other, and feel that sense of place. Third places are more than just occupied spaces; they’re essential for a well-functioning society. Think about it: where else can we make and maintain social connections, or freely exchange ideas, or form a shared identity over the things we love or are interested in?

As you revisit the title of this piece, you may be thinking, “Emily, based on the definition you just gave, cafes are third spaces!” Although my earlier allegorical story painted a very convincing idea of how a cafe could be a third space, I maintain my perspective: many cafes aren’t third spaces, and they haven’t been for a while.

But, it’s not because anything tangible changed, but because the role of them has.

Let’s delve into it.

A case against cafes being third spaces.

I think the most effective way to look at this is to take the definitions set by Oldenburg, and contrast that with very real, contemporary examples of how we’re moving away from cafes being third spaces. I was able to find a list of the “hallmark characteristics” of third spaces in this article, and an explanation for each of them.

1) An emphasis on third spaces being “neutral ground” and a “levelling place.”

Neutral ground is defined as a “public, comfortable, freely-accessed, non-obligated place,” and levelling ground points to how commonality is valued over economic or social status of the people gathering there.

When we contrast this against contemporary cafes, we have to come to terms with cafes biggest barriers to community itself; a cafe needs to exist as a business. Especially as coffee itself is affected by issues like global warming, supply chain issues, increasing food inflation, big corporations are feeling a squeeze where local roasters are being crushed. Here’s where the paradox begins: cafes are expected to serve as community spaces while simultaneously surviving as businesses with increasingly thin margins.

This is when our perspective on one customer occupying a table without a purchase changes; years ago, it might not have meant much, but now, it’s occupying potential revenue. Perspectives like this create policies like bathroom codes, Wi-Fi passwords, and table time limits. In many cases, they’re completely necessary just to keep the cafe going. However, they introduce conditions on accessibility, which moves cafes further away from the freely accessible “neutral ground” Oldenburg described.

2) The concept of “regulars” and shaping the identity of the space

Particularly when it comes to food service, we know how important and vital regulars are not just for their ongoing financial support for the space, but in how they help give our spaces life. This is something that was incredibly important to Oldenburg, although he saw the role of a “regular” through a more empowered lens; they would help to attract, welcome, and accommodate newcomers, integrating them into the social life of the place.

Today, “being a regular” usually means developing a relationship with the barista; not with anyone else in the cafe. A regular is created through repeat visits, familiar orders, and marked particularly for their consistency. This, in turn, essentializes them from being a person who is known by the community to being “large Flat White guy” (which is a truly, terrible fate.)

When we think about how people interact with each other in the coffee shop, I have a hard time believing that strangers are encouraged to interact with each other at all, nevermind one customer being able to shape the social space at all. Which brings me to my last point…

3) Conversation is the main event.

Oldenburg asserted that while conversation isn’t necessarily the only activity, it should be the main activity, as this is how community is built: by talking, connecting, sharing, learning.

Walk into any cafe now and you’ll see a surplus of laptops, headphones, Zoom meetings, and more disconnection than ever from our current, present place. People are prioritizing individual productivity over social interactions, thanks to the rise of remote work, and it’s creating more tension than ever. When we are interacting socially, it’s often because we’re using the cafe as an office, or a study hall, or a meeting room.

The funniest thing is that when cafes try to encourage more social interaction through restriction, like setting “laptop free” hours, some people don’t like it. Somewhere along the way, the cafe landscape changed because we wanted it to. In this case, cafes are no longer a place between home and work because they’re literally just an extension of work.

So, what can we do about it?

Over time, we have confused having access to communal spaces as a place that fosters community and connection; the difference between these two is one is an active engagement, and the other is passive.

The fact is that community takes an active effort from everyone involved, from our cafe owners to the customers who care about the spaces, to ensure that it happens. Cafes can become third spaces again, and here’s how we can make it happen:

What can customers do?

If there are two big things I can say that will majorly make a difference in how you engage with strangers, it’s this:

• Embrace the cringe

  • Let’s face it: it can feel so cringe-y to talk to other people, or make us feel shy because we don’t want to be labeled as “that weird person who talks to strangers.” But here’s the thing: you can connect with strangers and it doesn’t have to be weird. This stuff isn’t easy, but it can be practiced. If you need a starting place, here are some tips:

    • Ensure the other person actually wants to be talked to, i.e. has open body language, isn’t wearing headphones, not on their laptop, etc.

    • When you do speak, comment on something neutral, like how long the line is or how the weather is outside

    • Aim to connect without expectations. The more sensitive you can be to how the other person is reacting (or not reacting) will give you better tools to navigate a similar situation in the future.

• SHOW UP TO SUPPORT YOUR COMMUNITY

  • The best way to care for your community is to show up for it. Attend the local artist opening, or a board game night, or see a show even if you aren’t sure if you’ll like the music. The biggest point here is to be a regular who contributes to the atmosphere, not just consumes it

    • And, while you’re out at this event, use the pointers above to help you connect with other people!

If you want baby steps to get there, try these too:

• Put the laptop away (occasionally). Notice what the cafe is like, who comes in, the people working behind the bar, what the traffic flow is like, the pedestrians passing by.

• Sit at communal tables. By being closer to others, we’re that much closer to being connected.

• Learn your barista’s names; and, better yet, learn some of the names of regulars.

• Bring someone in who hasn’t been there before. Helping to build a community that actually supports the business is one of the most sustainable and loving things you can do.

What can cafe owners do?

Listen: lovingly and respectfully, it’s largely up to the cafe owners to create a space where people can form connections. Being a facilitator is difficult work (me myself being a teacher and arts facilitator for years), but it is a daily practice that only grows and improves over time. Here’s what I’d start with:

• Notice. Who’s the regular who gets there every morning at 8am? The parent who brings their kids in to celebrate the end of the school week every Friday? The teams who gather to have their Monday meeting at your shop?

  • First you notice, and then you remember. This detail costs absolutely nothing, but they create a sense of belonging that nothing, no discount, can ever match.

• Host events where coffee doesn’t have to be the focus, but the people definitely are.

  • Weekly cuppings, live music, local artist spotlights, club nights, latte art throwdowns. It doesn’t matter what it is, but what matters is that people are allowed to engage with it. The goal here should be accessibility; people shouldn’t have to spend more than the cost of a drink to participate.

• Build belonging through contribution

  • If you want real community, let people participate in it! Ask for their feedback on a new roast. Let them suggest a feature drink. Contribution turns customers into participants in the community.

• Remember that your team is part of the community too, and should be leaders of it. Let them participate in the communal events, showcase their work in the cafe, allow them to set the tone for how people speak with them. Arguably, they are your most important members.

• Focus on hospitality, versus efficiency. Good service takes minutes, great service takes several days. Remember people, their orders, and make them feel like they belong and are in good company in your space.

• Design spaces where conversation is easier than isolation. Ask yourself if your space is designed for people to stay and chat for hours on end, or if it’s more for people to grab and go (neither is more correct than the other, but awareness is key).

• Feature community notice boards, local artists, and neighbourhood groups as living parts of the café rather than decoration.

Maybe cafes haven’t stopped being third places because of a change in interior design, the kinds of coffee we make, or even the people who frequent them. Maybe we’ve simply forgotten what a third place asks of us. Community isn’t something a cafe can sell us; it’s something everyone inside has to practice.

A café can provide the space. But becoming a third place has always been a collective act. One we are all responsible for, together.

With love, always,

Em xx

Let’s go back to the year 2020, which was arguably one of the most difficult years our generation has had to live through. It started with Australia on fire, with millions of species losing their home; we protested the death of George Floyd, which redefined conversation on anti-Black racism; and, to round it out, experienced a global pandemic that resulted in millions of deaths, triggered massive lockdowns, and crippled global economies.

As public spaces became more and more unsafe, we had no choice but to witness the world on our phones. As our communities shifted online, they also widened considerably, changing our algorithms and allowing the concept of “virality” to take shape. We were all looking from reprieve from our reality, and that escape was none other than a frothy, bittersweet, and viral coffee drink: the Dalgona Coffee.

It’s not so much about the actual Dalgona Coffee itself, which has quite a rich and extensive background as a cultural beverage; it’s more about what it represented. While some people found satisfaction recreating affordable and cafe-quality beverages from the safety of their home, others felt calmed, almost soothed, by watching their favourite content creators making ASMR DIY drink recipes. Dalgona Coffee was not just satisfying to consume, but also satisfying to watch being consumed or created; during a time when people craved calm, safety, and familiarity in the face of adversity, this loop of sharing and excitement created virality.

I believe that this was the start of something I’m calling the “TikTok-ification of Coffee,” although it isn’t platform specific. In order for a drink to be viral, it has to satisfy the following criteria points (which are inspired by this BBC article):

• Visual Appeal, which is purposely designed to be a scroll-stopper.

• Approachability, especially when it comes to recreating the drink at home (remember: many home baristas got their start during 2020, but we’ll discuss that a bit later). The simpler, the better.

• ASMR Triggers, especially when it comes to pairing sounds and visuals together. People are drawn to colours, textures, and drinks they can almost visualize the taste or smell of.

• Novelty and Fusion, which piques our curiosity and creates this sense of urgency that our society deeply craves

• Functional Health Benefits, and this kinda makes sense when you think about it. During 2020, we were constantly confronted with ideas of death and temporality; being able to feel like we have agency over the inevitable, in the form of iced coffee drinks makes sense (at least psychologically).

It’s important to note during 2020, two different types of coffee drinkers were being created: the viral coffee drinkers versus new home baristas. Remember when I said that many home baristas were created during this time period? While some people were trying to transforming the instant coffee they had in the back of their cupboard, some people were putting a down payment on a dual boiler espresso machine (thanks to the popularity of Buy Now, Pay Later systems). With so many people being forced to work from home and barred from their favourite social spaces, the idea of being able to recreate their favourite cafe beverages was incredibly attractive; surprisingly, not unlike those who are trying the viral Dalgona coffee.

So, in theory, everyone should be happy making coffee at home, right?

Yeah… in theory, that’s where this article would end. Unfortunately, that’s not the case.

Many home baristas during this time turned to the internet to learn exactly how to use the $1,000+ machines and grinders they were purchasing because, frankly, no one else could teach them how. Which local barista could answer their questions? Who could hold barista classes during a global pandemic? Who had the additional funds to seek out this kind of education?

So, the vast internet became their teacher, and in case no one else has said it, I will:

The online coffee community is… not that great*

*I do need to put a million asterisks behind this because it is great for a lot of people! You have the potential to meet people who are willing to share their tips (especially in online group forums), are spending their (sometimes) free time to help you make coffee, and genuinely are an excited group of people when it comes to coffee!

While this article isn’t about why the online coffee community isn’t great, I will say that this community has a reputation for being exclusionary and elitist in their actions and language, primarily based on reiterating the same behaviour they received when they were first learning about coffee. It can tend to look a lot like this:

*this additional asterisks is interesting, because it seems as though the “rightness” or “wrongness” is primarily from what key coffee educational figures on the internet have said or haven’t said. There’s a very fine line in our industry between recommending brewing methods based on personal preference versus “data-driven absolutes” - and our community tends to value one over the other.

This cycle depicts a very normalized rite of passage for many coffee brewers. At it’s best, its a whole community that wants you to enjoy better tasting coffee, but at it’s worst, it’s a cycle that’s based on shaming others into brewing coffee “the right way.” And that’s the attitude in specialty coffee that many professionals will spend their entire careers trying to correct, but is intrinsically baked into the core of it (I mean, even look of the name of specialty coffee and tell me we don’t have a problem.)

Any other person would look at this cycle and think: “but wait, isn’t it just coffee?” And you’re right, it is just coffee, but also so much more than that. This is where self-congruity theory comes in, which basically explains how our identity can become intertwined with our purchases. By choosing to purchase a certain bag of coffee or brew coffee with a certain machine, we’re telling the world who we are and the community we belong to.

However, specialty coffee also spends a lot of time asserting who we aren’t and the community we don’t belong to, which is why we’re discussing viral coffee drinks. Because, at it’s core, viral coffee drinks are very antithetical to specialty coffee. They’re based on customization, novelty, and fusion, instead of appreciating the natural flavours and characteristics from well-brewed coffee.

I will say that the criticisms that come from the specialty coffee community towards viral coffee drinks can come from a good place, such as advocating for better practices in coffee. For instance, big chains like Starbucks who design their profitability around highly customizable and viral drinks, are reported for using unethically sourced and produced coffee beans. And there has been a wide acceptance of the attitudes behind viral coffee drinks, allowing a lot of cafes and baristas to become more curious about how coffee can be transformed and enjoyed.

And I think that’s what’s missing from the specialty coffee community that needs to be embraced from viral coffee drinks: curiosity. An embracing that coffee enjoyment can mean a lot of different things and look a lot of different ways, from cafes using clarified espresso in their feature drinks to the average coffee drinker who doesn’t want to use a scale to dial in their espresso.

When the community is stuck in the conversation between what is “right” or “wrong,” we’re limiting our ability to think about coffee in a multi-dimentional way. And honestly, I think it would benefit the entire coffee industry as a whole.

With love,

Emily

The cultural transformation of a barista has always been incredibly fascinating to me. While the physical landscape of the cafe has shifted, moving from the incredibly nostalgic Global Village Coffeehouse aesthetic to this Pseudo-Scandinavian Minimalist design, it’s difficult to pinpoint exactly when the people changed too. While our argument can start and end at my ongoing plight against the humiliation and torture behind replacing actual functional chairs with this specific 5-cm thick cushion from IKEA, I’ve been thinking about how this evolution of our cafe spaces can be indicative of a shifting culture behind the bar too. I recently shared my journey of leaving corporate to return to coffee, and the overwhelming amount of people who wanted a “how-to” guide on making the shift was puzzling, to say the least. As always, the inside scoop of coffee culture remains largely undiscussed, so here’s my stab at it (with an actual guide further down the list).

Beyond visual perception, the barista role is different now than ever before; there is a palatable seriousness and weight the coffee industry has in relation to the rest of the workforce. Even in myself, the phrase “coffee professional/specialist” is one that I keep referring to myself as, which signals how far we’ve come from the cutesy “java jockey” types. This change is indicative of how quickly the industry is changing; with a growing interest in new innovation in coffee, the industry requires more specialization and education in order to support third-wave coffee (and this article specifically speaks to it in a roasting capacity.) As a result, more baristas are willing to invest years into coffee as a career, pursuing external training and opportunities to keep up with the changing tides, and companies are just as, if not more, cognizant of each employee as an investment. As this interest in the technical skills and knowledge of coffee continues to grow, especially from the home brewer’s perspective, cafes have their work cut out of them for staying ahead of the curve and maintaining their need to be “industry leaders,” as well as generating them in-house, in a competing landscape.

My interest, specifically, is how our industry built on growth and innovation is resulting in people being left behind. It used to be (and please forgive me for using the phrase, “bAcK iN mY dAy”) that a barista position was known as being “entry-level,” requiring very little skill and was regarded as a job you could grow into, making it an ideal first job for young adults. Now? The economics have shifted; youth employment (defined as ages 15-24) has been incredibly low in two categories, food service being one of them. One of the reasons, in my opinion, has to do with the growing specialization of the role itself; it’s more and more commonplace that specialty coffee shops require individuals to check off several boxes to even be considered a potential candidate, ranging from desirable personality traits to the dichotomy of being experienced or not (my references from this include the 30+ responses on a recent question posted to my story: “what makes you hire a barista?”)

Why else can’t the youth have these minimum-wage, entry-level positions? Great question: because adults keep taking them. Most interestingly, more and more corporate workers are wanting them. Many corporate workers have written about romanticizing the work of their local baristas and wanting to remove their “golden handcuffs” to slum like the rest of us. While I subscribe to this as someone who went through this exact employment path, my only credibility is the fact that I worked as a barista first, then moved to corporate, then went back to being a barista. So, as someone who has faced a lot of eyebrow-raises and general dismissal at the idea of “just being a barista,” the increasingly trendiness of my job has larger implications about how we’re responding to our relationship to labor in general; largely that people want to love what they do and feel connected to it.

Whether this shift is inherently good or bad is a moot point and an ongoing discussion to have; all we know is that it’s happening and directly impacting the way that people get into the industry. So, now to get to the reason why you’re all here:

how do you actually get into the industry?

If you started with this article and haven’t had the chance to watch my short reel, “How to Get a Job as A Barista,” I’d start there because it does cover a lot of ground. Most of my videos must be distilled down to 1 minute to satisfy the algorithm, so it’s meant to be a short, fast-paced, condensed info list aimed at anyone and everyone with the underlying comment of “wait, why are we doing so much to achieve… so little?”

Now, what makes me even remotely qualified to talk about this? Great question, one that I wish I could have addressed in my original 1-minute reel. My hot take on the situation is: I don’t believe that any singular person currently working in leadership has enough perspective to provide valuable advice to address this. Think about it this way; if a cafe owner/manager is giving tips, it’s primarily based on how they would hire for their cafe, which isn’t indicative of the current job landscape. However; a regular ol’ barista who has worked for multiple different cafes for multiple different years (which, hey, that’s what I am) can provide the context that’s missing here. In addition, due to the generosity of the folks following my page, I’ll be referencing direct responses from cafe owners/managers/coffee business owners on what they’re actually hiring and looking for when people are applying.

DISCLAIMER OVER: NOW INTO THE TIPS

step 1: start with the listing

Before you even think about walking in with your resume, I need to you be aware of a few red flags when it comes to the job posting. Watching out for a few key terms/phrases will tell you whether or not a place is deserving of the time/effort you’ll be putting into your application (if the current discourse about labor and our relationship has taught us nothing, remember that you need to respect your peace first and foremost!)

🚩JOB POSTING RED FLAGS (and why!)🚩

• “Latte art is a requirement/must know how to ”

  • WHY: Any manager worth their salt knows that latte art is never an indication of whether the quality of the beverage is good or not

• “Cover letter is a requirement”

  • WHY: A cover letter is a nice-to-have, but should never be a requirement (imo). While I do recommend that you write one, especially if you don’t have previous coffee experience, making it a requirement for a minimum wage job seems like a little bit too much

• “Previous barista experience is required”

  • WHY: Some of the best baristas have been ones that come in with no coffee experience, and not all cafe experience is made equal.

• BEWARE: Advertised wage including tips

  • WHY: It’s just straight-up misleading, especially since tip-out won’t be the same every day, every shift.

    • Also, side note: if you ever see “competitive tips,” it’s usually a lie. Unless this cafe is located in the busiest, high-traffic area in your city, tips are usually never as “competitive” as employers describe it.

• BEWARE: Job postings worded a bit too casually

  • WHY: While we’re hyper-vigilant about AI-slop, and I’ve read more than a few job postings that were exactly the same for different cafes, no one is talking about the job postings where you can almost picture exactly who wrote them. If there’s no professionalism in the listing, I can almost guarantee that the workplace won’t have any either, which can lead to problems down the line.

step 2: actually go to the cafe!

I’m not saying to turn yourself into a regular, but I am advising you to visit the cafe at least once just to be able to catch a vibe and see if you can picture yourself working there. After ordering your drink, take a look at how it’s made: does it seem seamless? Are the baristas doing their due diligence to ensure that the drink is made with the highest possible amount of accuracy and quality? I believe whatever happens behind the bar is a massive indicator of how the entire cafe operates; take note of it, and do with that information what you will. Chat with the people, look at the other customers there, listen to the music, feel your presence there. If you feel good, odds are that the cafe works hard to make that happen.

step 3: if you like what you see, proceed with your application

I’m a huge advocate for writing a cover letter (when it’s not a requirement); evidently, others are not (re: the comments left on the aforementioned video saying that “cover letters are overkill”).

My argument for cover letters is this: they provide context and fill in gaps where your resume may not. You can fill in gaps by talking to the manager/owner directly, express your interest in working there, or your resume with customer-facing positions may help with this. However, if your job experience doesn’t seem to make sense for a cafe, it might seem a bit… random. I had a girl drop off a resume and, first of all, the paper weight alone made it stand out. She had a masters' degree in Science, worked for tech companies as a Junior Exec, and it seemed out-of-place that she would want to work there. Unfortunately, her resume went to the bottom of the stack, and she was never contacted. Pro tip: no matter how you do it, give people a reason to contact you!

When dropping off your application, there’s a few tips to make sure that your application actually makes it into the right hands (because I’ve seen resumes thrown directly into the garbage, just fyi):

• Aim to come in, resume in-hand, mid/late afternoon, when cafes typically aren’t as busy

  • if you’re looking to talk to a manager when there’s a line out the door in the morning or during a lunch rush, forget it!

• Be a good person and an even better customer

  • You never know who is coming into or out of the cafe: hold doors open to people, say “please” and “thank you,” and try not to cut anyone off as you’re leaving the cafe parking lot (otherwise the interview could have a superrrr awkward start!)

  • When coming up to the til, I’d aim to be the barista’s best friend. Ask them how their day is going (and listen!), explain that you have a resume in hand and would love to drop it off, and be open to asking if a manager is in (without any expectations)

    • It’s not a requirement to get a drink while you’re there, but sometimes it’s nice because I’ve usually chatted with the barista as they’re making their drink about my experience as a barista, and listened to their perspective on what it’s like to work there. It definitely goes a long way to make some good contact time with the staff, because they might be your coworkers one day!

• If you can get an owner’s business card/contact card for the cafe, now’s a great time to grab one so you can follow-up!

step 4: the interview itself

In every cafe interview I’ve done, I’ve just treated it as a friendly conversation. You know you wanna work there, they know they wanna hire someone, so you already know you’re on the same page. Overall, I’d say that most cafe owners are looking for someone who’s friendly, willing to learn (about their shop, coffee, whatever), works well with other people, and willing to work hard.

Here are some things I would focus on mentioning, and things I’d definitely stay away from:

Do:

✅ Feel like your work experience is valid, even if you’ve never worked in coffee before! Your soft skills are a huge asset to any cafe. I’ve always said: you can teach anyone how to make coffee, but you can’t teach anyone how to be nice.

✅ Talk about why you love coffee (and it doesn’t have to be just about the drink!) You can talk about the sense of community you feel in cafes, how connecting with people is important to you, interest in the process behind making coffee or the machines, etc. Real coffee people know that working in coffee is more about coffee!

✅ Highlight your experiences that align with barista work. Speak about how well you work with other people, how you resolve conflict effectively, your ability to communicate, how you handle high-stress situations, comfort with working independently, etc.

✅ Research the cafe before the interview. 9/10, the question “why do you want to work for us?” will come up; I always try to highlight what makes the cafe stand out, whether that be their coffee, social media, menu, etc. and mention how you first got introduced to them/their company.

✅ Be prepared to do a trial shift or make a few drinks during your interview (I’ve had it happen a few times!) Be sure to ask questions prior to using their equipment so you can operate it safely, understand the ratios for espresso (as they may not allow you to use automated shot timings), do your best to replicate recipes for each drink based on your past training, and just try your best!

Don’t:

❌ Speak badly of other workplaces (even if you feel like your reasoning is totally valid). Not only does word get around fast in the coffee industry, but it’s a massive red flag for hiring managers.

❌ Let the nerves get the best of you. If there’s a question that someone asked that you don’t know the answer to, it’s totally fine to say, “that’s a great question! Let me think about it” and take a few seconds to come up with a thoughtful response.

❌ Lie about your experiences. There’s a huge difference between having experience or not, and working as a barista for 1 month versus 1 year - it’s not about just getting the job, but maintaining it. Stick to what you know and lead with honesty!

step 5: you either made it, or you didn’t

If you got the job, congratulations! Here’s to prepping for a successful first few days on the job*

* If y’all are interested, I can also make a guide on how to get through the first few days of working as a barista

If you didn’t get the job, please don’t give up! If you’re truly passionate about working in coffee, you will find the right place that accepts you for all of the amazing things that you do.

Thanks so much for reading (especially for your patience as I put together another substack article, which really got away from me this year. I’m sure many of you can relate: I have a habit of being overly ambitious and wanting to do everything all the time, which doesn’t leave much room for consistency. Still, thank you for being here).

This article made me deep dive into some research, which was very exciting, and I’m looking forward to starting back up with more articles on the barista lifestyle and coffee culture, now with even more subscribers (thank you for 500+ !! Y’all are the best!!)

That’s all for now! Love you, bye!

Emily

I lock my phone, resume working, and wonder if anyone else knows that I, the barista behind bar, just hit 30k followers. On my lunch break, I Google, “visualizing crowd size” and learn that the Geodis Park stadium can hold 30,000 people in it (30,109 people, to be exact). Getting in the car to go home, I try to think about what that number really feels like. Or, at least, how to explain it. Because even I have trouble really formulating how much it means to me, or what it really means at all.

Soon after, 35k followers came. Then, maybe, if I’m lucky enough, 40k will come, and the next wave of feelings, thoughts, and emotions will come too.

In the meantime: I will sit here and try to convey to you exactly what that number means to me.

30,000 feels like too much, yet nothing at all.

To put it into context, hitting 10k almost four months earlier was an insane deal to me; I had no idea that I would even reach that number, that my content would resonate with people that deeply, or that anyone cared. I had brands congratulating me, sending me free coffee, and it felt super monumental. I think I celebrated for three days straight.

Then, to hit 20k? And then 30k after that? Soon after, 35k? Each time I hit new milestones, I feel its overwhelming presence of people watching, and knowing that they all have different expectations. Somehow, celebrating each milestone seems unreasonable, childish even. It’s simultaneously all too much and also not enough. And yet, I care so much and so deeply about it.

I’ve fallen into a loop of planning all of my content around “the last big hit,” which I think a lot of content creators do. The metrics keep me up at night, I relay good and bad comments in my mind all day at work, and I worry whether or not a video I just posted will be more successful than the last. I remember crying in the bathroom at work after posting one reel because it wasn’t following my projected growth and not hitting 10k views (talk about embarrassingggg!)

And yet, it’s nothing, really. It’s success on an app, for crying out loud. Until it isn’t just on the app… and instead, it’s in real life too.

30,000 is when people start to notice IRL.

I don’t think I’ll ever get over the idea of people recognizing me as Emily Makes Coffee over just Emily. Or introducing myself and having someone say, “oh yeah, I’ve seen your content before,” or, “yeah, I listened to the podcast you’re on,” or walking into a room and someone fully knowing my whole online history (and having opinions on it!)

On one hand, that’s really cool and a very big deal to me, and I remember being truly shocked and surprised hearing that people have seen my stuff or appreciate what it is that I’m talking about. I still try to make a point of properly introducing myself, at least asking for the person’s name, and trying to show my appreciation for the fact that someone knows who I am.

But sometimes, depending on the situation or the person, I feel so shy about it. When I started Emily Makes Coffee, no one knew about it until I had maybe 500 - 1,000 followers; it was my little secret, a place to share or vent or share tips with strangers while I worked a nine-hour shift at a cafe on the weekend. There was so much room to try things, to fail at it (I have sooo many archived reels from that time), to have success really feel positive and like I was heading in the right direction.

30k is the number when I start to realize that there may be some people who don’t like my page, or how I communicate my ideas, or the idea of me - and this is before they even meet me IRL! I recently had someone I admired in the coffee industries for years question my values because of how I recounted customer stories online. That’s when I realized that this account is bigger than me, and that what I say has been echoing.

After receiving that comment, it felt completely debilitating. I held off from posting, tried to have more “santitized” content, even posted a reel assuring people that I do love my job! Since then, it’s been hard to know what it is that I’m doing, or what I’m saying, or who I’m talking to.

My only guiding light has been that I love the dialogue that my videos create. I love reading comments and DMs where I learn something new, or connect with someone over a similar experience. I also love the feeling of watching my videos back or going through my memes and really laughing at it, or just feeling really proud of how I communicated something just right.

The more times I can feel proud, appreciative, or connected is when I know I’m doing something right, and that I have to keep going.

30,000 is when you (apparently) need to get very good at emailing.

2026 is the year I master the art of a timely email. Seriously, the reason that I’m not a very good “influencer” is because I cannot respond back to an email (and not even in a timely manner; I mean at. all.)

I truly think the amount of success you can have online directly corresponds with how well you can handle admin tasks in addition to creating videos and marketing yourself online. And listen: many people have mastered it, and that definitely shows with the partnerships they have, and all of the benefits that come from that. But me? I’ve been disenchanted with a few of the small interactions I’ve had with brands so far, which has made my inbox quieter and quieter, the influx of “free coffee and gear” less and less, and my need to build out my bar or get another espresso machine non-existent.

If you’re interested in my excuse, it’s really that 1) I work two jobs, or three if you count filming videos every chance I get, 2) I want to feel super duper comfortable with any product promotion on my page, and really think about how I can do it on my own terms, and 3) I have all of the gear I could possibly need (90% of it purchased by me before Emily Makes Coffee existed), so I don’t really need more new stuff.

I think also, in a sense, I still don’t even take Emily Makes Coffee seriously enough. I still see it as that small account I started this summer, and I’m still just figuring stuff out. A small part of me also thinks that due to the futility of it all, it can’t possibly account to anything life-changing. And yet, it has significantly changed my every day life, how I connect with people, and my perception of self.

So now, I decided that it’s time to take it seriously, and recognize the weight of it.

30,000 is the start of something, because it has to be.

I wonder a lot of the times, what do I do with 35,000 accounts following along with my journey? I struggle with feeling validated by this because nothing is really happening. I go to work at a mid-sized cafe, come home, film a video, edit, and then go to sleep, only to repeat it all the next day. If every day is the same, what are people following along for?

My years in social media work has taught me that audiences can be quite split in terms of the content they follow along for, and its determined by whether you value consistency (like a meme account) or a journey (someone pursuing their dream). People also come online to either laugh at something, or to learn something. I have been fluctuating quite a bit in terms of what I create, and how that resonates with people. A lot of times, I’m asking myself, am I making the internet a better place? Do people feel good watching my stuff? Am I creating change in my community?

This questioning has led me to reconsider what Emily Makes Coffee means to me, and what I can achieve with it. I’m interested in pursuing advocacy in my field, in reflecting on my identity and experiences as a barista, connecting with the coffee community in more meaningful ways, and leaning into creativity to make sense of some of the challenges or achievements I find in my work.

I believe through this work that there can be some actionable and meaningful change in the industry. I believe that there is a path forward. And, at the very least, I can create a few memes to help us laugh about everything on the way there.

With love, always,

Emily

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I crouched behind the bar, turning the volume up enough for me to hear, but not enough to disrupt anyone near the counter. I would watch 3 minutes, then take an order, watch 1 minute, then clean something. In one hour, I was able to watch his 15-minute set.

While watching, I had the strangest feeling overcome me; I was annoyed.

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A customer comes into the cafe and greets the barista behind the bar by saying “hello” first. They spend a few minutes looking over the menu before they’re ready to order, checking out all of the necessary information in order to order as clearly and efficiently as possible. This, dear reader, is a good customer.

Customer: “Hey! I’ll have a small flat white with regular dairy milk to-stay, please.”

Barista: *Spins the tablet around to them and walks away to get started on their drink*

Customer: *Feels puzzled by the lack of communication, but still wants to be “a good customer,” so they give a 20% tip, sits down, and patiently waits for their drink to be called out*

A few minutes pass…

Barista: “Flat white to stay!”

Customer: "Oh great, thank you!”

Barista: *Is already standing back at the till listening to the next customer*

Customer retrieves their drink, semi-grudgingly. Was I acting weird? Was it something I said? Am I not “cool” enough to be here? A feeling of self-doubt settles into the bottom of their cup; they drink the cold remnants and leave.

The next day, they make coffee at home. Even though it isn’t good, it’s been made with care.

Before you give me a million reasons as to why this interaction is wrong, and what you would personally do to fix it, let’s get into this particular barista’s head and understand why, exactly, they’re choosing this route of communication (or clear lack thereof).

To be cool is to care.

The best part of traveling, in my opinion, is visiting all of the “cool coffee shops” in the city. But honestly? I get really nervous to step foot into one. Like, truly to a point where I’m spending an hour picking out my outfit before walking out the door to go and visit one. Why? Because:

The vibe? Always immaculate. Feels like I walked into a Pinterest board. A little MCM wood here, some nice lighting there, a truly unique seating arrangement/lighting situation that has to be on my Instagram story (right next to my cappuccino in a stainless steel mug, for some reason).

The music? Trust me, my Shazam is working overtime here.

The people? Like the hottest person you know back home, but like one degree hotter because you don’t know them.

Except… they’re mean. The kind of aloofness that has you guessing if it’s actually rude even though they literally made you a coffee — it’s just the way that they didn’t say anything, at all, that makes you feel like shit for ordering it. These cafes are where being behind the bar feels like an exclusive club, which you’re definitely not invited to even though you technically paid to be there.

And trust me, I get the apathy, the “working your wage” thing, the “I only get paid minimum wage.” I support it, really. Everyone’s allowed to have an off-day, to not feel like talking, to daydream of being anywhere other than work. But there’s a very delicate line here; a line of self-acknowledgement, of acknowledging when a bad day becomes a bad week, month, or year and making it everyone else’s problem. Even worse: when you think this level of service is acceptable every. single. day.

In case no one’s said it to you: caring is cool, and unfortunately, I don’t see it a lot. And as someone who is fully capable of making a pretty good drink at home, it’s turning me off from going to get a coffee anywhere. So, what gets people like me to stay?

The lost art of hospitality.

I just watched this reel featuring James Hoffmann (about time this man gets a mention in the Substack!) and I couldn’t agree more when he speaks about how essential empathy is for a cafe to excel at, because dude, yes. The truth is that most coffee nerds can make better coffee at home because 1) they have the time, 2) they have the knowledge, and 3) they have the tools (often too many of them.) So, why would they ever come out of their coffee cave to grab coffee at a cafe? Because it’s either convenient or because they long for community — this is where empathy and connection come in.

What James doesn’t talk about, and what is so essential to the conversation, is how baked into people’s subconscious it is that to be cool is to be removed, to be aloof. So many people, especially if you’re super deep into coffee, have this idea that “the coffee will speak for itself,” or, “the vibe will speak for itself.” What we fail to ask ourselves is “what if the coffee’s shitty?” or “what if the vibe has been disrupted somehow?” When we give people nothing to go off of to form an opinion, they will focus on everything. Even the mistakes you hope they’ve forgotten.

But who teaches you how to give good hospitality? It’s one of the most essential skills that no one really gives you tools to excel at. Here are a few things I focus on during every interaction:

1. say hello. preferably as soon as they walk in the door, definitely when they approach the counter. no exceptions (sorry!)

Let’s be so for real right now; what is more important than greeting someone who walks into your cafe? Certainly not the dishes in the sink, the drink you’re currently making for yourself, or any other task. It takes two seconds to register that someone has entered and call out a quick “hello!” Especially when they come up to the counter to order a drink (it’s actually weird as fuck if you don’t.)

2. genuine service doesn’t mean “smile!”

What does genuine service look like? It’s actively listening, sometimes repeating back orders to people to ensure you have it correctly, asking necessary questions in case they didn’t offer details (like “what size?”) Here, you want to set yourself and the customer up for success.

And the most underrated part here? You can be human. Like someone’s pin? Complement it and make their day. Someone ordered your favourite pastry? Tell them that. Find your favourite one-liner to get someone laughing (my favourite is when someone says that their coffee is to-go is saying, “well, we’re sad to see you go!”)

It’s also about reading tone: if someone is blurting out their coffee order, now isn’t the time to compliment their entire outfit. People come to cafes for two reasons: community and convenience. Sus out who’s here for what, and base your interactions off of that.

3. Leave no doubt.

When I’m truly feeling like being an absolute superstar, I don’t focus on making better drinks: I focus on giving better care. Sometimes, providing better care means removing any erroneous questions customers might have; a good example is providing ample napkins with their pastries, putting a lid on their to-go coffee, giving people a plate with their tea, or asking them if they’d like you to add cream or milk to their coffee rather than them having to fuss with the creamer station.

Here? We’re leaving no doubt that they are your guest, and you’re so stoked to serve them. This is what caring is about; you’re setting the guest up for the best experience possible while they’re at your cafe, and this is what will keep them coming back.

4. Here’s what to do with the coffee nerds (coming from a coffee nerd).

When I visit a new cafe, I’m typically heading straight to the retail beans to check out exactly what kind of coffee you serve. Honestly, I’ve been disappointed more than a few times when I’ve made comments or had questions about processes or varieties and have been met with a blank stare. (Side note: there’s only been one cafe in the city, Sought & Found, that has consistently had a barista come out from the bar area to come over to talk to me about their beans every time I’m looking: for this, they have my respect.)

Honestly, coffee nerds oftentimes either want to learn more about coffee or share their vast coffee knowledge with other people (remember, these people are often brewing by themselves). The way I tackle this is by balancing my comments with my questions; I’ll ask these folks what kind of machine they have or how they like to brew their coffee, and that usually kicks off the conversation. Be curious, tell them what you know (because gatekeeping is literally loser behaviour), don’t be afraid to say “I didn’t know that,” and especially, “yeah, I did know that.”

With these folks, know your limits and play within it. If you have someone talking your ear off when you’re in a rush, you can be courteous in saying, “it was great to see you! I’m busy with xyz, I hope I get to chat with you some other time!”

Here’s the bottom line: we all need to do a better job of making people feel welcomed.

The thing that keeps me from visiting cafes is the lack of warmth and genuine care. I’ll go into a cafe and not feel like I belong there, even though I surely cemented myself a position in the industry with my years of experience, both behind and in front of the bar. And this is a major barrier for passionate home brewers; coincidentally, you’re both there because you love coffee, and it’s about time you start connecting over it.

Care is missing. Authenticity is missing. Connection is missing. Everyone benefits when these aspects are present; as it’ll make your cafe more memorable and you, as a barista, truly remarkable. These aspects is what will make you fall back in love with your job. It’s what’s gonna make you love the customers who come in to see you. And love has the best returns.

With love, always,

Emily

I love starting a new job because it feels very similar to a new relationship — you’re young, naive, unaware of the major problems are simply disguised as funny quirks. Slowly, but certainly surely, you’ll figure out the exact reasons why the previous employees left. Some places are better at hiding it than others, and some of them work harder to recover them more than others.

So, what are those issues? How do you spot them? And having worked at the cafe I started filming my content at for six months, why did I decide to leave?

Confession: I love to quit. And start something new. And then quit again.

Having worked at a coffee shop (or two) in my time as a barista, I feel like you can call me Goldilocks at this point. Honestly, I think that I’ve worked at at least seven different shops and interviewed for even more. It’s safe to say that it takes a lot for a place to get me and keep me; plus, having worked in the industry for as long as I have, there’s a lot I just won’t put up with anymore.

My pattern is as follows: I’ll start at a new place, with the rose-coloured glasses and everything, and work at it — hard. (It’s also very likely that I’ll be working at two places at the same time because I keep telling myself that I’ll be “bored” just working at one cafe.) Then, I’ll work too hard that I’ll be craving a change, and that’s when I’ll end up quitting (usually around my birthday, in the springtime).

Do I recommend this? Absolutely not.

Has it taught me a thing or two about how most cafes are run? Yes, absolutely.

I think the biggest piece of advice I can give is that if it feels wrong, it probably is wrong. Sometimes you can tell during the interview, but other times you never find out until you’re three months working somewhere. I won’t delve into all of the issues I’ve had at other places, but I will be using my most recent cafe experience as a case study, because this place is truly the weirdest place I’ve been employed at.

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Let’s be honest: most professions, especially those dealing with the general public, deserve better pay and improved working conditions. This isn’t new to any of us. So, advocating for baristas to get a bit of extra money to, I don’t know, live, sounded like a generally agreeable take.

Right? Wrong. So, so wrong.

I won’t get into the nitty gritty of what people have said about me, my perspectives, or how I communicate them (more on that later), but the writing’s on the wall: people have an issue with baristas being paid above minimum wage, point blank. After posting a few videos around this idea and getting a certain amount of people arguing against it, I think it’s time to fully delve into it: the public’s opinion on tipping, where the responsibility for providing a living wage lies, and how I structure my content to instigate these conversations.

But first, to fully understand equitable wages and tipping, we need to understand the places and spaces where customers get their daily dose of caffeine.

Coffee service is split into two worlds; one that values convenience, and one that values quality. Customers want both.

The shops who have automated machines, who strive for friendly yet efficient service, who serve coffee that’s a straight shot of caffeine delivered with as much sugar as humanly possible: that’s convenience. There is a specific clientele who visit these shops and come to expect a certain pace of service, quality of food and beverages, and general atmosphere. These shops are typically franchised, and can get away with lower prices due to the quality they provide in all aspects of their shop (no shade to anyone; I would just be surprised to hear of any of these places serving a single origin coffee).

Unfortunately, in these spaces, the line between baristas and fast food employee becomes blurred, and I’m not entirely sure where people draw the line. Are you only worthy of the coveted “barista“ title if you’re working in a place that exclusively plays Clairo? All I know is that if you put a tip option in any of these places, there would certainly be an uproar from the clientele. I’m not sure if this hatred stems from how customers view the employees, the food and beverage, or the company, but it certainly is pervasive. Surely the ability to organize orders, communicate effectively and quickly with customers while maintaining a friendly demeanour, and making coffee is worthy of being paid a liveable wage, right? To many customers who frequent these spaces and want their double-double stat, you’re so wrong.

On the other end of the spectrum, there is the third-wave coffee world. Here, if you don’t TDS your batch brew or know how to pour a 7-stack rosetta, you might as well go home. This is where World Barista Champions are bred and born, where the number of tattoos you have determine how good your drinks are, and where the person on aux reigns supreme. Even though you need to have the equivalent of a Master’s Degree in Latte Art, you still aren’t paid a livable hourly wage.

Even with tips, why aren’t baristas in these spaces paid a liveable wage? It’s not coming from the customers (entirely), it’s coming from the owners. Owning a coffee shop isn’t exactly a “get rich quick” scenario — it’s giving more “passion project” than “millionaire in under a minute.” Sure, margins on coffee have been relatively good, but that’s definitely undercut by the price of milk, rent, pastries, and other unknown costs. Coffee shops are wanting to attract as many people as possible, so they set their prices as low as humanly possible to cast as wide of a net as possible. When it comes to hourly wage, the only law they have to abide by is giving them minimum wage (even though, shamefully so, they know the work is so much more than that).

In an attempt to control costs, implementing tips sounds like a great idea, putting this added cost into the customer’s hands. Can business owners budget for better hourly wages and work it into their profit margins? Absolutely. But knowing how widely socially acceptable tips are makes it oh-so tempting to just put the responsibility back on customers.

And unfortunately, a lot of customers aren’t happy about this.

We want our caramel macchiato (regardless of where it is that we’re ordering it from) and we want to drink it too.

Due to the absolute monopoly of these franchised coffee shops, people see how quickly and efficiently baristas can work (with the help of automated machines that they can literally walk away from while the milk is steaming. Again, a girl can dream, okay?) What most customers don’t know in these third-wave coffee shops is that quality takes time, that good coffee is worth waiting for, and no matter how much you tap your foot impatiently, the drawdown time for the pour over you ordered is 3 minutes (and not a minute sooner!)

And when it comes to paying for it, people have their own preconceived ideas about tipping. Some folks already have tips accounted for when they budget for coffee, so no matter the quality of service, they are giving you your allotted $1.00 for completing their order. Other folks just don’t tip, whether you give terrible service or you do the whole song-and-dance for them. The remaining customers have something akin to a checklist that you must complete within the 1-minute interaction it takes for you to take their order, and it might look something like this:

☐ did the barista greet me first? if yes, increase tip by 5%; if no, decrease by 5%

☐ was the barista smiling while taking my order? if yes; increase tip by 10%; if no, decrease by 20%

☐ was i able to order with the least amount of questions asked possible, no matter how complicated my order? if yes; increase tip by 1%; if no, decrease by 10%

☐ did they have what i wanted to order (regardless of whether what i wanted was on the menu)? if yes; tip % remains the same; if no, no tip.

Tipping is also deeply personal. It goes without saying that people are more likely to tip the closer they are to it; for that reason, servers remain the best tippers, simply because they know exactly what it’s like to be in that position. People also need to feel a connection to you as a person, your vibe, even a connection to the coffee shop itself. Tipping is also cultural, and it goes without saying that I am so envious of places that don’t have tipping culture, and it would eradicate the need for this post to be written at all.

I find that people don’t tip either because they don’t have the budget for it, or they are vehemently against it. The idea of someone working as a barista and depending on the wages from that job so that they can live is so outrageous to them, that they actively work against it — they will not only refuse to tip, but also occasionally give you a lecture on their anti-tipping perspective. At the end of the day, their dream is to have their coffee, the way they want it, as quickly as possible, with the best quality service as possible, for as humanly cheap as possible.

Isn’t that a curious paradox? The customers who see us as the lowest of the low, yet depend on our knowledge to give them their daily coffee (and make it taste good) because they either 1) can’t do it, or 2) don’t want to do it?

We listen, we smile, we then say, “thank you, see you see you next time,” and repeat the cycle with the next customer.

So, is it living wage or tips?

Recently, I got a comment on one of my videos saying (and I’m paraphrasing), “So you want people to tip now? It was about living wages last week. Which one is it?”

Let’s be clear; the bottom line is that baristas deserve to get paid more. And honestly, I don’t care in what shape or form it is.

The funny thing about creating content online that people want to engage in is that you merely have to introduce the idea. Rather than speaking your multi-faceted opinion about whether or not tipping is a good idea, if you just present the audience with a scenario, it sparks thought, emotion, and the desire to share their thoughts.

Am I ragebaiting? I don’t define it as so when it’s coming from a place of bettering working conditions for those who are perpetually overworked and underpaid. Prior to creating these videos, I honestly thought we were all in agreement that baristas should get paid more. There are different angles you can approach an idea, different ways you can create content, and it inspires different conversations; some of my content is more focused than others.

Above all, I’m looking to create a space to encourage discussion, and I would be naive to assume that there wouldn’t be any negativity in that. There have been videos I’ve created that have generated incredibly thoughtful perspectives, and made me think about my video in a completely different light. I think there’s space for all of this, and the ability to work on receiving the good, the bad, the ugly; as long as we can weather the storm, clarity will come.

Until then, I wish you all nothing but good customers, massive pay checks, and multi-stacked rosettas.

With love, always,

Emily

(P.S. on the subject of tipping, living wage, selfish self-promotion, blah blah blah, consider buying me a coffee using this link: https://ko-fi.com/emilymakescoffee?fbclid=PAVERFWANNDlxleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABp6mV_cQb0ZJcie4nLpwjuqfJ5_UblsZ_ncfgWfISiIGoH3VgxRGkFmcMwsrR_aem_Sdn6RII5gYKsJMzZU6_OPw or becoming a paid subscriber to support more of my writings! Thank you, love you, bye!)

Next thing you know, your worst nightmare walks in — a bachelorette party of 6, all looking for a mid-day pick-me-up in the form of iced strawberry matchas. And, of course, all of them have different sweetness level preferences, and all a different combination of milk preferences (turns out, half-almond, half-soy is different from half-soy, half-almond).

As customers were still coming in as I was developing carpal tunnel from hand-whisking every matcha order, I could hear it; laughter. And as I looked up, it wasn’t laughter from the groups’ daily escapades, it was accompanied by whispers to each other, darting eyes, and even a point to the measly matcha I had prepared and set on the counter.

It’s no uncommon to experience this in a myriad of ways; I want the earth to swallow me up anytime a group of teenagers walk in, a distant friend from high school or university pops in, or someone I view as “cool” gives me the up-and-down for working a service job.

We’ve already discussed, at a certain point, the concept of cool in coffee as it relates to being a barista, but we’re talking today about the perception of cool: in short, is it cool to be a barista?

(I’m curious about your thoughts down below, but I think a barista is cool if they 1. work at a cool cafe, 2. are talented at what they do, and 3. are friendly. It honestly doesn’t take much.)

But let’s get back to service.

My favourite definition of service is this:

Service (noun): An intangible act of helpful activity or utility performed by one person or entity for another, often to provide value to the recipient

I love the word “intangible,” because if I think about what great service is, it’s hard to describe with finite descriptors. It’s more of a feeling; you feel welcomed, respected, understood, and definitely better than when you arrived (likely because now you have a cup of coffee in hand). That’s why “value” is also such a great addition too; it isn’t a direct trade of services, like ordering clothes online. It’s the vibe of the cafe, the kind of coffee they have, the before-during-and-after care. All of it contributes to what we think of as “great service.”

I think dignity is lacking when the other party (aka the customer) doesn’t show up in a reciprocal way — it’s difficult to give great service when the other party isn’t open to receiving great service. I think dignity is lacking when there are elements at your place of work that don’t align with your identity — I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt embarrassed about the cafe I work at because I don’t believe in the quality of goods, the menu, how the space looks, or the clientele. I think dignity is lacking when the operations of the cafe don’t align with your moral standards — right now, one of the cafes I work at is taking 15% of my total tips, which makes it hard to even show up to every shift.

So, what do we do with this? I’ve referenced the idea of purpose in this video, but I think it’s so, so, SO, important to define what success means to you, what “doing a good job” means to you, and how you can walk out of your shift feeling like you can hold your head up high.

I used to be the kind of barista who felt like a puppet on strings. I forced myself to be super enthusiastic about everything, extra chatty, bulldozed my other coworkers so that I could be the fastest, “most efficient” one on the floor, and would stay hours past close so that everything was in impeccable shape. I thought that this way of being was what it meant to deliver a high quality of service. What it really led to was a lot of resentment for customers, coworkers, management, and myself.

Nowadays, I lean into healthy boundaries. I’m realistic in terms of what I can accomplish during a solo shift, and sometimes that means that folks have to wait a little bit longer than they’d like to for a drink (remember, they’re coming to you for quality, which doesn’t always equate to convenience) or certain tasks aren’t accomplished during a day. I communicate with the people that it affects (aka, letting customers know that their order will have to take a second, or letting other staff members know that I didn’t complete a task) and also realize that the world won’t stop turning if I forget to restock the napkins. I’m realistic about the amount of energy I have to put into a shift: somedays I feel super chatty, other times it means a pleasant processing of orders. I’ve been educating myself on my rights as a worker, which means taking breaks and advocating against unfair/unsafe situations, at times even leaving workplaces that don’t respect the work I do. These parameters allow my quality of service to span over a lifetime, rather than a short stint.

People dedicate their whole lives to service. We rely on the folks who are in service, whether we want to or not, and we are in service to something or someone every day. Is there dignity in service? Sure; as long as we remember that dignity is entirely in our hands.

With love, always,

Emily

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For this accomplishment, I can’t thank you enough. To know that my content is making an impact, that it resonates with people, connecting us closer to the coffee industry and together; knowing this alone is truly incredible and beyond what I thought was possible for my content. Thank you for following along on my journey, for your incredible support, and for the opportunity to talk about so many things that have been on my mind and let them land. I appreciate it all.

To be honest, I’ve struggled with being a content creator (you can read more about my deepest thoughts on the matter here). I’ve had intense doubt about the content I’ve posted, down to agonizing over 1 second of a video to ensure it “succeeds,” and how I share pieces of myself on the internet. Despite the doubts, there have been (undoubtedly) moments of success. Of incredible generosity. Of inspiration. Of connection. My mantra in life is that you create more meaningful connections by being vulnerable and authentic, and it’s brought me to this point. The numbers are just for vanity; the people are what are so meaningful to me.

let me share how this milestone happened

Because this account has taken up so much of my brain space, I felt compelled to take stock and to share what’s been successful for me. Keep in mind: although Emily Makes Coffee is relatively new, I have just over 7 years of social media management/content creation/marketing experience; I’ve taken what I’ve learned in the ever-changing field of social media, consumer culture, and marketing experience, and have (finally!) applied it for myself.

I find that creators very, very rarely share how they got to the position they’re at; in an attempt to disrupt this, here are five tips in case you’d ever like to grow your followers, create more engaging content, or foster a closer sense of community online.

(Or if you’re just curious about what I do and why, which is also very valid.)

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July was a craaaazy month! I got sent some incredible coffee, which continues to be absolutely insane, grabbed some of my own (for “research,” if you must know, not because I’m addicted to buying coffee), and had the opportunity to actually start pulling some espresso with my machine!

Something out-of-the-ordinary for me is that I’ve been buying a lot of dark roasted coffee; if you know me, you know I like coffee that “punches me in the face” - super duper acidic, bright, fruity, borderline undrinkable, but that’s only because it forces me to slow down.

So, why all of the dark roast? Mostly because my friends LOVE dark roast, and I’m trying to be an accommodating host. So, with very limited experience with the world of dark roast, I’ve made some considerable efforts to be better at brewing.

Let’s get into it!

A glance into my Daily Dial notebook

If you’ve read this blog post, you’ll know that I write everythinggg down, or at least have been trying to get better at that! It helps me to be more reflective, to remember my grind settings when I have various things on the go and want to return to a coffee, and helps me to track metrics. It is the most valuable asset to furthering my extraction techniques, and I encourage you all to get into the habit of it!

what i drank for espresso

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Something that always bugs me about coffee gear influencers or general articles online is how it kinda skips over this: that it is tough, and that it’s okay that it’s tough. Nothing worthwhile is easy.

So, as your designated internet coffee friend, it’s my job to give you all the ins and outs on setting up your own brew bar; from decision-making on the right hardware to choose all the way to straight out-of-the-box-and-beyond things to do to keep your machine (and your sanity) in tact.

so, what should I buy? or how do I choose what to buy?

For all of your coffee gear (and I mean pretty-much all of it), you can probably go through this list of specs to narrow down what would be the best fit for you

1. Quality (and representation)

In my opinion, it’s incredibly difficult to justify any purchase if it isn’t built to last. Like so many of our kitchen appliances, we’ve gotten into a habit of using it until it breaks down on us, and then just replacing it (not to mention repair techs getting absolutely phased out; like, who do you call to fix your toaster nowadays?)

I’ll be the first to say it: espresso machines and grinders are not designed to work this way. I think it’s easier just to replace things, but if you want quality? Be prepared to get your hands dirty. Ask yourself questions like:

• Is this a reputable brand that’s been around for years, or a new pop-up?

• If problems arise, can you easily handle repairs, or will you have to bring it to technicians?

• Have there been several versions of this product?

• What are reviews looking like, and are they reviewed by people (i.e. content creators) I can trust?

Which is why I mention representation; which coffee brands can you trust to give you dependable products, versus those that just have a pretty Instagram? Until I finally write my honest experience of using gear from several coffee accessory brands, Reddit is a pretty good resource (but only for this one thing, okay? Don’t get it twisted).

2. Custom specifications (and customization)

Sometimes, your brew journey starts you on one path, and then you discover you’re on a totally different side quest than when you first started. For both your machine and grinder, it’s worth considering how you can upgrade your current set-up versus buying a whole new brew bar. So; can you upgrade different parts inside each machine (like new burrs, a new steam wand tip, new shower screen, etc.) and to what degree will those upgrades affect your daily brew?

(Again; find folks you trust to point you in the right direction - bonus points if you can speak with them directly to give you some pointers!)

Buying gear for the first time? Consider asking yourself these questions, then use them as your compass to guide your purchasing:

• What kind of coffee do I wanna make? (Like, do you dream of daily cappuccinos, or just filter brew?)

• How easy do I want the coffee to be? (The difference between a semi-automatic machine and pour-over is vast)

• How much coffee do I wanna make? (This is the main degree of separation between a single and dual boiler machine)

3. Price-point (and the idea of worth)

This is really what it comes down to: the investment of it all. Don’t get me wrong; I still have “upgrade-itis” where I want the newest, prettiest, and coolest things for my brew bar, but I’ve decided on my limit and I (try) to play within it.

So really, the question is: how much is this worth to you? I would consider how long you’ve been dreaming of your brew bar, how likely you are to use it, and how much you’ll use it. Depending on your answers, the machine could be paying off quicker than you thought, or it will sit and collect dust after a few months, weeks, or even days. (Let’s try to avoid that one, okay?)

4. What will help you enjoy your bar?

Arguably the most exciting part: you get to kit out your very own space! It’s important to consider the vibe and general aesthetic of what you’re going for. Depending if you do your research on Reddit, Pinterest, or straight-up collaging, you might want to consider a few things:

• What will inspire me to use my bar? (trust me, you need something to help keep you engaged in your hobby!)

• What general aesthetics am I drawn to? Do I want the space to be more functional and practical, or more of an artistic space? Are there certain pieces I love, like a picture on the wall near it or colours in my home that can help guide this transformation? It’s important to try to narrow it down to help create something you love

• Also, realize that it doesn’t have to be perfect right away. The decor takes time; be patient as you wait for the right piece to come around!

okay, i bought it! … now what?

The desire to just open up the boxes and start ripping out shot after shot is so real. Like, totally valid. I want you to resist the urge for a second, read through this guide, and then let it rip.

Keep. The. Fucking. Box.

I don’t care if it takes up space, I don’t care that it’s annoying. If anything goes wrong with your espresso machine and you need to take it back to the shop (or even ship it), any extra damages will definitely void your warranty or chance of returning/exchanging it. Plus, it’s just nicer for everyone in the service department to deal with. Don’t be a jerk; keep the box.

Also; empty the boiler to avoid any damage/leakage. It’s easy; just run your machine until no water comes out of the group head. You could also give everything a general wipe down, and make sure nothing gross is in/around the machine (like a dirty, moldy espresso puck in the portafilter… I’ve seen it happen.)

As soon as you take it out of the box

If there’s hard water in your area/you don’t have filtered water at home, I hope to GOD that you purchased a water filter. If not, go back to the store and get one. And some fresh coffee beans for your grinder. Please and thank you.

What’s the #1 enemy of any espresso machine? Hard water. That thing will absolutely tank your espresso machine due to an excess of calcium that hardens in the boiler. So, do yourself a favour and treat your machine right with a filter or soft water (don’t even get distilled water, it’s too corrosive.) While we’re at it, what’s the #1 enemy of any grinder? Super duper oily, dark, old espresso beans. Those will clog up your grinder faster than you can say “ristretto.” Do yourself a favour, buy fresh beans, thank me later.

After you’ve read through all of that, go ahead and give the owner’s manual a read. I feel like that’s something that I skip over, because I’m like, “duh, I know how a machine works, I don’t need this.” I cannot emphasize how much I learned from the owner’s manual enough. Things I should have known when I was selling these kinds of machines were in the owner’s manual. Take it from me; read up!

Another thing to budget for: cleaning and maintenance tools.

Here’s a short list of things I recommend you grab to keep your machine running as optimally as possible:

• If it isn’t included, a backflush disk is essential for cleaning. It redirects water so that it goes back through the machine tubing - combined with some espresso machine cleaner, it’s an effective way to keep everything squeaky clean.

  • Here’s a link to a very basic one! You don’t need anything fancy

• Espresso machine cleaning powder is a MUST. Seriously, unless you wanna be drinking months-old coffee and effectively break down your machine, clean it every 2 - 4 weeks with some powder (a little goes a long way!)

  • Use what the pros use! I’ve used this cleaner or this one; again, a little goes a long way! These can also double as a shower screen, basket, milk pitcher, and portafilter cleaner (basically anything that gets coffee oil all over it!)

  • While you’re at it, grab some grinder cleaner too!

• A brush! Classic!

  • Use this one!

• Descaler; even if you use a filter, there’s bound to be at least a little bit of scale left behind. This is a task you can do every 3 - 6 months, depending on use. It’s tedious, but very necessary.

  • This cleaner works fine for me!

Now you’re officially ready to make your first coffee!

as it turns out, making coffee is kinda hard

I’ve seen so many starry-eyed customer come in, grab a machine, and come back within a week with the light behind their eyes nowhere to be seen. Why? Because baristas make barista-ing look too easy. (Seriously, knock it off guys!)

No one likes to talk about the learning curve, which is largely based on experience, but also proximity to customers. Posting online is kind of like shouting out into the void without an echo, so unless you have real, tangible feedback from folks, you don’t really get a sense of what’s landing. Lots of people don’t even ask.

So, here are some tips to help get you started (from someone who has both coached customers through these experiences, and also as someone who has very much had these experiences)

Be patient.

Even though you really, really wanna start making amazing coffee right this second, just be patient. Be patient with your machine, as it may not be working the way you imagined it would. Be patient with potential repairs that may need to happen on the machine (turns out, not every machine is absolutely perfect straight out of the box due to mishandling in the shipment, the build being slightly off, or other considerations). Be patient with yourself, as this is a brand-new thing that requires work and effort to be good, just like any hobby.

My suggestions? Rather than integrating your coffee as a “before work” routine, save it for your days off when there’s less stress. Consider investing in a course to expedite your journey. Watch videos, and implement exactly what you’re seeing into what you’re doing. It’ll all come together quicker than you realize.

Know your machine.

Knowledge is power; knowing what’s going wrong with your machine and having the language to describe it is empowerment and agency, which is kind of the whole point of having your own brew bar. Beyond recognizing where the power button is, I want you to type in your machine (i.e. Profitec Go) followed by “parts diagram.” If you are particularly handy, you can even open up the back of your machine and take a look inside!

Here are some great parts to be able to identify:

• Where is your group head? How many different parts are located in this area?

• Where is your boiler? Is there more than one?

• Where is your solenoid valve? Is it a two-way or three-way?

• What about your pump? Is it vibratory or rotary? Where is it located?

• What about your steam wand or steam valve?

• Are there any part names, like o-ring or gasket, that keep repeating? What are their roles?

The more familiar you are with these parts, their role in your machine, and signs on when to replace each aspect, the more empowerment you gain. Soon enough, you may be able to tackle home repairs!

Write. Down. Everything.

One of the best ways to improve brewing is to keep a daily brew journal to exercise probably the most important aspect of your coffee routine: the enjoyment of it. In this journal, you can track the metrics, but also reflect on what it is that you’re tasting.

Here are some reflection questions to get you started:

• What do you like about this coffee? Is it the texture, the flavour, the weight/body, the aftertaste, the complexity? Try to be as detailed as possible.

• If you had to rewrite the tasting notes, what would they be?

• What are aspects of the coffee you’d like to improve? Like how a camera can focus on its subject, what would you like to bring into the foreground? (i.e. more brightness, more clarity, more sweetness, etc.)

• If you could brew this coffee differently, how would you? Or, what brewing method would truly highlight this coffee the most? Examples can be espresso, filter, pour-over, French press, moka pot, Aeropress, and more!

• How does this coffee taste with other additives? It can be as simple as adding water (ice), milk, or experimenting with other recipes, like different syrups, etc.

• What else have you learned about this coffee? Reflect on its origins, the particular farm, the altitude, the processing; how does this contribute to the flavours in your cup? How well can you pinpoint this?

• Do I like this coffee? The answer can be everything from a definite yes to an absolute hard no!

THAT’S IT! Really. Or, at least that’s enough to get you started.

While I can imagine you might have more questions, I’m more than happy to answer! Make sure you shoot me an email, or consider becoming a paid subscriber to be able to leave comments and get the most direct answer from me (plus, your questions or comments might help other folks who tune into this!) Thanks for reading!

With love, always

Emily

If I were to describe the coffee scene in Calgary, I would use the words small, competitive, and split between long-standing franchised cafes and independent mom and pop shops. The scene here in Calgary maintains multiple shades of colour; I believe that one is no better than the other, just serving different people who are interested in different kinds of coffee.

So, the long and the short of it is this: it depends on what your preferences are — which again, sorry, I know that’s a bit of a “no shit!” answer. Luckily for you, though, I’ve compiled my research (meaning I spent all of my money on coffee) and made a general guide of notable cafes, categorized appropriately, through no paid nudging or anything like that* I hope you enjoy.

here’s where to go for a good cup of coffee (imo)

These are the places where I know, no matter who is working or what time of day it is, you will get a great cup of coffee. Some of these places I have trained with, others are known in the community as being one of the greats.

Basically, if you partake even a little bit into coffee snobbery (either self-proclaimed or assigned by friends and family), here’s where I’d go:

Paradigm Spark (opening in August: 422 11 Ave SE #104, Calgary, AB T2G 0Y4)

I first learned about Paradigm Spark through Eight Ounce Coffee; they set up shop in their in-store cafe, and David Kim brought me over a sample of pour-over as I was perusing retail beans. That was the day I almost spent $50 on a 100g bag of coffee beans (and I almost regret it.)

Now, their flagship store is opening in August, and man oh man, will it be such a great addition to the community. I’ve heard some exciting developments from other folks in the community and truly believe this will be a great hub. Plus, their baristas hold it down at any competition they enter; it’s truly incredible to watch this team grow and develop, showcasing true innovation and devotion to the art of coffee. It’s inspiring, really.

What would I order? Their Kiyalo on pour-over tastes like grape yogurt, changing flavour as it cools down. I’ve also purchased their Bohuma multiple times and loved it dearly. Otherwise, any of their signature drinks is truly a treat!

Sought & Found (916 Centre St N, Calgary, AB T2E 2P7)

True story: Sought & Found coffee was the first specialty bag I ever purchased, and I loved it dearly, brewing it (badly) for special occasions only! Kitty and Caleb are very dedicated and passionate people who occupy every sphere of the coffee industry; whether it’s sourcing, roasting, or competing, they put their soul into it all. I interviewed for a barista position with them about a year ago, and their thoroughness with which we spoke indicated how high their standards were for their cafe, coffee, and team.

Although they have high standards, they are definitely super approachable and warm folks. A highlight is during every holiday where they have the whole family working the cafe, giving out free cookies to folks dining in! Kitty also does such a beautiful job writing straight-up poetry on their Instagram, and their coffee is incredible. Do me a favour: visit them all day, every day, please.

What would I order? They do 1 espresso two ways, and it’s my personal favourite (and always upgrade your espresso; expensive, but worth it). Their pour-over flights are also a rite of passage.

here’s where to go for a comfy, cozy, at-home feel

If I want to go to a coffee shop for more than just the brew, these are the places that are it for me. These are spots that indicate community to me, comfort, and make me feel welcomed and at home in my skin. I spoke about the internal designs of cafes before because, truthfully and honestly, these clean and minimally-designed coffee shops are more for grabbing a quick coffee and dipping, versus staying in for the long haul. Here are the spaces you’ll wanna stay at for the long haul:

Velet Bike Ski Cafe (Back Alley Entrance, 206 11 Ave SE #105, Calgary, AB T2G 0X8)

If you’re looking for a nesting spot, Velet is my best-kept secret. Home to Turkish-style coffee, this shop is like being welcomed into a friend’s home; full of personality, character, and comfort (it also very much reminds me of a ski valet). If you have the pleasure of meeting Hakan (the cafe owner), you’ll get a sense of his passion for service and the amount of momentum building for the shop. It’s definitely a different vibe from other cafes in the city — the community events are incredibly niche and focused on the biking community, he sources his beans from friends (hey Anarchy Coffee Roasters!), and you walk in and can just feel the heart and soul behind it; it’s intended to be different. Enjoy a cup of coffee, get your bike and skis fixed, and make a point to go and support this place.

What would I order? The salep is a muuust, and I cannot pass up the burek. Honestly, you can just ask Hakan and he’ll definitely recommend something fantastic.

Calgary Heritage Roasting Company (Located in Snowdon Block; 2020 11 St SE, Calgary, AB T2G 3G3)

Another perfect nesting spot has got to be Calgary Heritage Roasting Company. If you haven’t been here, you’ve likely tried their coffee, as they have a ton of wholesale partnerships and can be found in nearly every single grocery store across the country. Their Flash Fuel is in every hiker’s backpack, and due to their excellent marketing skills, everyone knows their story of firefighters-turned-coffee-shop-owners.

Homed in the historic CC Snowden building, this place is a trip to visit; it’s a pretty roomy café with two levels that’s perfect to stop at on your way to do some exploring in Inglewood (and a 2-minute drive from Eight Ounce if you’re looking for some coffee gear!) It’s not just a beautiful spot; it’s also got some pretty tasty coffee. I’ve been told that some of the best cappuccinos come out of this place (especially if you get the decaf; it quite literally is like biting into a fresh tangerine!) Plus, if you’re a bit of a foodie, their bagels aren’t just Montreal-style; they are quite literally overnighted from Quebec. Try it out, you definitely won’t be disappointed.

What would I order? Obviously, I’m partial to their decaf espresso, but their seasonal menu always has some fun stuff (try the cold brew, it’s literally on tap!) And a bagel, definitely a bagel.

here’s where to go to listen to the best music (imo)

Again, I’ve talked about this too, but music is such an easy way to cultivate a vibe — so why do so many coffee shops do it wrong? Music not only sets the vibe, but it also tells you about the people working there and who they are; it’s about a shared identity, one that isn’t verbally communicated. It sparks connection, joy, curiousity, and helps you to actually feel something. Here are two places that knock it out of the park for me:

Caffe Beano (1613 9 St SW, Calgary, AB T2R 1E1)

If you haven’t had the chance to visit Beano yet, literally what are you doing? One of the first cafes to pop up in Calgary (like, I’m taking back in the 90s), there is a significant cult following to this place; Beano is home to so many people, and it takes a village to keep a shop like this propped up. To me, Beano isn’t about the coffee (although Fratello has a custom roast profile just for Beano) or the food; it’s always been about the community. Everyone there looks out for one another — that corner is essential for so many folks, for connection, checking in, checking out. Working as a barista here, I’ve never felt more cared for by the customers than here.

While Beano was bought out a year ago (so tragic), they are still maintaining a lot of their externally-facing aspects, meaning things are relatively unchanged: same decor, menu, coffee, and, for the most part, people. The staff who work there are mostly artists at AUArts or people in the music/artistic community, meaning the playlist is always locked, the drinks are half-decent, and it’s definitely a “cool” place to be. Do with that information what you will.

The musical vibe is always so good; I’ve discovered some of my all-time favourite artists there, and it feels safe to have any kind of vibe going on in there. Beano could have Paul Simon in the morning, Fugazi in the afternoon, and Rachmaninoff in the evening. And it would all. just. work.

What would I order? My favourite order is a Beano macchiato, which is essentially a flat white; but for a wild trip, try the mocha, the vietnamese iced coffee, maybe a milkshake if you’re feeling crazy (and have an iron stomach).

I Love You Coffee Shop (348b 14 Ave SW, Calgary, AB T2R 0M3)

If you’ve looked at my Instagram stories, you know I’m a frequent flyer here (mostly for proximity, but it’s growing on me). If you head into their main location, you could easily spend hours combing through their records, checking out some local art on their walls (if you’re into that kind of thing), or looking at the many, many different pieces of Garfield paraphernalia. Ironically, my absolute favourite part about ILYCS is how much they don’t give a shit about latte art. I look at the foam blobs in my coffee and my heart yearns more and more to return to simpler times. I’m not sure if this is intentional or not, but I deeply respect this.

Comes with the territory; the music is always dialled in (no pun intended). Every vinyl they play matches the vibe, and it really transports me. Another thing I respect about ILYCS is that no matter what kind of line they have flowing out the door, that record will get flipped. Admittedly… my Shazam is always on the minute I walk in.

What would I order? Honestly, just a trad cap. There’s nothing too crazy here. Have heard that the pizza bagel is kinda wild though!

here’s where to go to buy the best coffee beans (imo)

Sometimes, you just wanna buy some beans and gtfo! I get it! Or, you are so inspired by the quality of coffee in the city that you just wanna be able to bring some of that spirit with you. Many of these shops carry either their own beans or have retail beans for sale, but I’ll tell you where to get the best of the best.

Eight Ounce Coffee (2600 Portland St SE #2040, Calgary, AB T2G 4M6)

*Psst, fair warning: you may see a few links here in this section! If you wanna check out a huge Canadian supplier of coffee gear and beans, go ahead and click the link to shop around — affiliate links really support me and the work I create! If you’re looking for other ways to help, consider a monthly or yearly subscription to my Substack!

Listen… if you want the absolute best collection of coffee beans, Eight Ounce Coffee has it all. They have an insane coffee wall that has every single coffee you’ve (probably) ever wanted in your life, plus a bunch of other coffee gear that is super essential to any home brewer. The folks there are super kind and passionate coffee lovers, so you’ll be in great hands no matter what your level of experience is.

And I’m gonna be so for real with all of you: the thing that deters me from buying coffee online is I need to see it; I need to feel the bag, smell it, look at it up close, and compare it to the other bags of beans sitting next to it. At Eight Ounce, you can do that. And more! Because, as a sidenote, you can also buy a cup of coffee to sip on while buying coffee to brew! They have their Coffee Club Cafe right on-site, which makes it that much easier to try out new coffee before committing to a whole bag of stuff.

What would I buy? My love for and allegiance to Traffic Coffee goes way, way deep. If you want something fruity, funky, and fun, the team at Traffic is absolutely rocking it. My current fav has to be Bouquet, which is a clean ‘n’ sweet coffee from Ethiopia; if you can get your hands on it, Milkshake Espresso blend rocks my world! Adjacent to Calgary, I buy bags of Rogue Wave Coffee like they’re about to run out; I love the variety of what they offer, from comfy cups to some absolutely insane ones (I had one that tasted like an IPA… ‘nuff said). My fav has to be anything from Granja Paraiso 92; always incredibly inspiring, their current decaf offering is perfect with my Kalita Wave.

what are some honourable mentions? i’m so glad you asked!

Listen, not everyone can be included, but they do deserve a shout out! Here are some rapid-fire places that should have made the list if I had many hours and many dollars to spend:

• Loophole Coffee Bar (1040 8 Ave SW, Calgary, AB T2P 1J2)

  • Great vibe here run by great folks (also next door to Sigla Books, home to obscure and choice books). Coffee is okay, but they hold music shows here that are some of the best acts I’ve seen in Calgary. Follow them and keep up to date on what’s happening after hours!

• The Roasterie (314 10 St NW, Calgary, AB T2N 1V8)

  • This spot would have almost made the list next to Beano, but their coffee is just not my flavour — I’m including it because it could be yours! The Roasterie roasts all of their own coffee inside, have super dedicated regulars, and is such an important part of Calgary’s coffee scene (celebrating 40 years in the business! What?), they. They offered movie nights at one point that I loved, and their cocomocha latte is probably your best bet.

• Kaffeeklatsch (2000 Veterans Pl NW Suite 110, Calgary, AB T3B 4M2)

  • Jess, the owner, has been such a great contact in the coffee community, and it’s been so inspiring to watch the journey of Kaffeeklatsch evolve and take shape. What I love most about Kaffeeklatsch is their ability to infuse German culture into everything they make, and their essence as a brand. Jess ensures folks feel seen and heard, stands for all the right things, and makes a damn fine cup of coffee. If you’re in the NW, make sure you go to say hi!

• Rosso Coffee Roasters - Ramsay (#15, 803 24 Ave SE, Calgary, AB T2G 1P5)

  • You’ll notice that I didn’t include any franchised cafes in this list, and that’s partially for a reason (maybe a reason best discussed in another post). This location, though, is really special, as it has Rosso’s very first roaster located in there, and I believe that due to the location that they have the time, training, and ability to produce some great coffee. Their retail coffee is the only stuff I buy as I know it has incredible sorting technology to give you the best beans every. single. time. Buy a bag of beans, at the very least!

Wow, what a long read! Congrats if you made it to the end; I hope this guide helps you to find some great coffee. I’m curious to hear your thoughts, so drop a comment down below, send me an email, or chat with me on Instagram!

With love, always

Emily

When starting your account, you only have a few templates to work from; the big ticket? Becoming one of the super-successful influencers that every single one of your friends follows. These people make you feel like they’re speaking directly to you, every vlog is like a FaceTime call with your best friend, and they are so casual, so super cool when they say, “make sure you hit the link in my bio.”

Hit the link in my bio… Right… That’s how you say it.

They always share their origin story (for the “relatable” factor), talking about how they were just like you; they were stuck maybe at a 9-to-5, maybe at another job they hated, and the pandemic almost always has something to do with it. The way they talk about it is quite literally modern-day heroism, the Midas touch, turning everything they touch into gold — like that moisturizer they’re holding!

You can be like me, too! You just have to show up, all day, every day. Producing content, links, different ways of engaging your audience, and strategic ways to make it feel like people aren’t buying things when they are. If they buy it, they might, just a little bit, feel even. closer. to. you.

So, to follow in line with these super successful influencers, let’s talk about the origin story of Emily Makes Coffee, but let’s be real about it. Because, somehow, that just feels more human, you know?

If we’re being honest, why did I start Emily Makes Coffee?

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When I started making pour-over, I went all in. Where I was working at the time (sounds a lot like Shmoffee Schmattics), their main “pour-over-and-basically-coffee-know-it-all” guru was leaving the country to pursue teaching. To me, it felt like I had to step up to the plate if I wanted to succeed. Armed with an overabundance of coffee tools and only the internet to guide me, I failed my way through many pours. I subjected the team to every single one of my pours, from the most legendary geshas to absolutely overextracted co-ferments, and learned so much along the way.

So, before achieving any level of success, what would I have said to Emily at that time? Let’s start with a couple of things:

#1 your brewing equipment does. not. matter.

Again, I worked in a coffee lover’s paradise. I had my morning choice of any brewer in any material, and could use any filter with the best filtered water available. No matter what I chose to brew with, if I wasn’t clear about my objectives, it could create a very expensive, yet very badly brewed coffee.

The best piece of advice comes from Ply Pasarj, whose recent reel on Rogue Wave’s Instagram account advises us to “choose the brewer that looks the best to you.” Essentially, if you feel inspired by a brewer, you’re more likely to brew with it and continue trying to craft great coffee with it!

#2 here’s the brewing equipment that does matter.

I want you to be so brutally honest with yourself: how far do you want to get into this particular process of making coffee?

If you answered, “only a little bit/I’m still new to coffee,” you should invest in:

• A decent grinder

  • Getting a decent grinder allows you to make good coffee now, so that you don’t get discouraged. Grind size is truly one of the only things that will give you great tasting coffee; invest in something decent now (like $50+) so that you’ll have something that can grow with your skills.

  • Worst case: your decent grinder will go fast if you choose to resell it online!

• A gooseneck kettle

  • Listen: I’ve seen so many people get discouraged from pour-over just because they don’t have the kettle. Gooseneck kettles allow you to maintain consistent stream pours for consistent cup quality, making it pretty essential (I have seen pour over done with just regular kettles and honestly, I’m not here to tell you that’s bad!)

  • You do not have to spend $300 on a kettle; mine is a stovetop for under $100, or Facebook Marketplace has some great finds.

• A kind of decent scale

  • If it can show you your timings and weight at the same time, great! If not, I’ve rocked with a kitchen scale and my phone timer and had pretty decent pours.

• Everything else?

  • You can get for pretty cheap. Don’t be tempted by the fancy brewers and their empty promises!

If you’ve been making some great pours but want extra gear to increase the quality, here’s what I would consider:

• Water

  • Water truly, truly matters. Whether you buy distilled water and add your own minerals, or add drops into your final brew, I’d suggest playing around with some minerals to see how it affects your cup

• Upgrade your current gear

  • The aforementioned gear can get you started and is great for beginners; if you are truly passionate about coffee, the right gear can totally change your brew routine. I have upgraded my grinder, bought a new scale that I love, and am now looking to upgrade my kettle to one that is (actually) temperature-controlled!

• A note about adding to your collection:

  • It can be really fun to play around with different brewers, and I’ll admit, I have looked at other people’s collections and had bar envy! Do I think the extra brewers are necessary (having brewed with other brewers daily for over 1.5 years now?) Not as much as you might think.

  • Other brewers can help you unlock different flavours, and it can be fun to have the nicest and newest brewer on the block, but unless you love it, focus more on changing up your recipe.

#3 Accountability.

When I said that I launched into pour-over hard, I meant it. I had accountability on all fronts; not only did I serve every single pour-over to my whole team at work, but I also filmed myself. Every day. And posted it. To our company’s Instagram stories. Every day.

(Anything for the engagement, am I right?)

Truthfully, this didn’t boost our engagement with non-followers; but, what it did do was boost connection, tip sharing, and appreciation for the world of pour-over with our current community. Every morning, folks knew that they could join our page and read about a new recipe I was trying, or a new coffee I was loving.

And by putting myself out there, month after month, and responding directly to folks and humbly receiving feedback? I got better. I’ll even say that I might not have gotten this far on my journey without it.

(Crazy, right?)

I’m not saying you have to do exactly what I did; even keeping a coffee journal, or involving your friend or partner, or even making it a part of your morning routine keeps you accountable to the process.

#4 1 recipe, 100 ways to do it

No matter where you find your recipe, find one and stick to it. In coffee, the best results come from having as much control over the variables as possible, and then changing one variable at a time.

So, decide on your recipe based on the brewer you have (a recipe for a V60 will be very different than a Hario Switch recipe), the coffee you’re brewing (a dark roast Brazil versus a light roast Ethiopian), or your level of experience (I say: the simpler the better!)

Within one recipe, you can change:

• The grind size (finer or coarser; even one click will make a difference)

• The kettle temperature (even 1 degree hotter or colder will make a huge difference)

• The timing of your pour (this is changing the recipe a bit, but will you bloom for longer or shorter? How much longer do you wait for the second pour? For the third pour?)

• The height of your pour (which affects the agitation of the bed, which affects the final cup)

• The volume in every pour (closely related to timing, but are you doing a fast pour? A painfully slow pour? All of this is a variable that changes daily!)

  • And finally, the recipe itself.

#5 it’s more than the final cup

The reason why I gravitate so much towards pour-over is that the mechanics allow you to get to know the coffee at a much deeper level than other brew methods. It takes time, patience, and enough dedication to the craft to get a decent cup.

But it’s more than the final result. The practice of pour-over, for me, is meditative. You aren’t thinking about anything else while you’re in the zone, and you’re engaging your whole body and senses throughout the process: the smell of an opened bag of coffee, the sound of the beans grinding, the heat of the water as you make your first pour, and the time spent waiting.

All of it is worth it, even if your cup doesn’t turn out how you expected it to. Trust me.

With love, always,

Emily

I got to know some of the closing baristas, and one night, one of them made a pour over. They had a bit leftover, which they offered to me to try. I’ve never heard of it before, so I accepted. That cup was so juicy, fruity, and incredibly expressive. I asked them what kind of tea it was, and I was met with belly laughs, becoming somewhat of a joke that evening. I can’t tell you how badly I wanted to crawl underneath the counter. I felt so dumb as I laughed along with them because I was a barista, same as them. How was it that I didn’t even know what pour over was? Suddenly, I was evaluating every aspect of my training and expertise.

So, I did what every logical person would do: I got home, logged into my YouTube account, and studied. And studied. And studied more. I don’t think there was a latte art or James Hoffmann video out there that I hadn’t watched at least twice.

Every shift I had at my cafe was my return to the stage; an opportunity to showcase what I’ve learned and share the good word, talking every customer and co-worker’s ear off about everything coffee-related. At that time, it came from a place of wanting to overcome; if I knew enough about coffee, people at these cool coffee shops would respect me, right? I wouldn’t have to mutter the name of the franchised cafe I worked at because I was embarrassed. I would order a cortado with pride (mostly because I practiced the pronunciation of it in the car 5 times before getting out). Surely, my sheer strength and knowledge of coffee would be so vast and cool that everyone would view me as a super elite barista, no questions asked.

(Because that’s how everything works, right?)

So, yes: it was an addiction. And anyone who’s ever been addicted to something knows how it ebbs and flows — how high the highs feel, and how crippling the lows are. Yes, I could totally school someone on the milk temps of alternative milks, but I still couldn’t manage a decent pour with soy milk. My efforts were in all the wrong places; talkingtalkingtalkingtalkingtalking versus listening.

And listening some more.

Pausing. Absorbing. Returning back to square 1.

In a world of over-communication, over-exertion, over-fucking-doing it, nothing beats the feeling of just being responsible for holding information. For asking questions. For just receiving.

And that’s cool.

Specialty coffee sometimes feels like an impenetrable wall; a “member’s only” club where only certain people get access only some of the time, based on a randomized set of information. Where do you work? What do you drink? Who do you know? What are your qualifications?

This happens on a micro and macro scale, from the smallest coffee shop tucked into the corner of the city to a large coffee community gathering. From dumping on customers because they don’t know the difference between flat whites and cappuccinos, to full companies turning against each other to fight to be at the top of the coffee chain.

And do you know who the coolest people in the industry are to me? Oftentimes, they are the quietest people. They encourage beginners to chat their ear off, listen to anyone who wants to speak, and continue to learn and reinvest into their coffee community, big or small. They are passionate, excited, and want to learn more about you because they believe in building something great together. They share information freely, widely, and elevate people who are truly deserving of it.

I love those people. I want to be those kinds of people.

Content creation is about constantly producing, so please give me an opportunity to listen. My DMs on here or Instagram are lovely places to chat, or send a message to my brand new email (!!!) emily@emilymakescoffee.ca and tell me something about coffee. Let’s generate the kind of community we want to be in.

With love, always

Emily

1. You start drinking coffee (whether it’s Folgers with International Delight, a daily mocha, or something between the two, you’re just getting started)

2. Something triggers a specific interest in it (for me, it was when a friendly barista gave me a free pour over “just to try”)

3. You delve deep into finding the best coffee shop, developing your taste buds to pick out even the slightest astringency

   1. This can (sometimes) accompany a more acute frustration when you get a “bad coffee” (which I spoke about in this Instagram reel)

4. You decide to do something about it, which means being in full control of your coffee-making journey. You become a home barista.

   1. This is where I am.

So; I need to get a machine, which is equal parts daunting and exciting. I feel like I’m in this percarious state because my current job is literally selling these machines to people (not to mention training other folks on how to do this very thing); I know allll of the pros and cons, which makes having it in my home to make coffee on every day that much more challenging. Part of me wants to find a new and exciting machine, which is part of my journey, but I feel uncertain about the unknowns.

In an attempt to maybe nail down what I’m looking for by doing a comprehensive review (and share it with all of y’all), let’s get into it.

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Let’s go back to the beginning. 

In June of 2020, I interviewed for my first coffee shop job at a Good Earth, which is a “do good feel good” coffee shop turned into franchised cafes you typically see in Indigo bookstores now. I was so excited to work as a barista - truthfully, I looked up to baristas as the coolest people in the world. Not only do you get to wear whatever you want and listen to your favourite playlist, you also get to be involved in every part of crafting a beverage for someone, resulting in total customer care. I loved the ambiance of shops and wanted to do whatever I could to be in a shop as long as possible; being a barista just made sense. 

I got put on closing shifts, and I was an awful barista. I would forget closing duties all the time, not know anything about shot timings, and would freak out any time I had to steam any milk. I have a vivid memory of a customer giving me shit about a coffee they ordered and how awful it tasted that I ended up crying in my car about it (because this was not the “total customer care” I had imagined). I ended up hanging out with a friend that evening and, low and behold, they had an espresso machine! They taught me how to steam milk and it kickstarted the excitement to start on this journey. 

I worked there for a loooong time. Maybe longer than I should have. I pursued other things, like teaching dance and marketing, but always held onto my barista gig. I got to know customers in seriously intimate ways: 

• the large latte and chocolate chip guy who would only visit our cafe because the hospital, where his wife was staying, was just around the corner. 

• The fruit cup guy, who would always come at 6am on the dot every morning

• The crochet club who dominated so many tables, but tipped well and made one of the baristas a hat for christmas

• The couple who everyone loathed because no drink was ever what they wanted; they made up for it with their praise when we did get it right, and the odd joke every now and again. One year, they tipped us all $100 each.

• The hojicha tea guy who let his cat, Archie, hang out on our patio (even though it wasn’t allowed at all)

How can you let go of people like that? Being a part of their every day for years, and them yours?

I worked as a part-time barista for years. I floated to several cafés during my time, imagining that there would be one that would fully encompass what I was looking for: a great team, customers I can grow to love, an inspiring menu, and flexibility (because I am a super-chronic-mover-a rounder). Whether that meant staying with a café for two weeks (oops!) or years and years (and years), every experience allows me focus on more of what I want.

Nowadays, I work in marketing for a coffee supplier here in Calgary (you mayyy have seen my face crop up a bit on social media) and solo-barista-ing on the weekends. And it’s good. Busy. But good.

I’m craving a change though, and that’s partly what inspired Emily Makes Coffee. A totally curated space to be loud, share thoughts, ideas, and frustrations that I care about and have been holding onto for years. Surprisingly, I think people are really liking it and connecting to it. I’m glad that you are.

With love, always

Emily