Small Batch Coffee Co.

I read about this place in the Food & Drink guide (whatever, we get it at work) and my boss said I should go try it out. Obviously I always do what I'm told so off I went on another little adventure to Hove.

This place is TINY. There's a coffee bar, window seating and some seats out front. Out back is the roastery, which was there long before they added the storefront. Not much to look at really and it's in a very residential neighborhood right by Hove station. As I was perusing the beans the owner came out to help me choose a bag. First he asked if I was Australian based on my accent - this is like, the 4th or 5th time an Australian has asked if I am Australian. I seriously don't get it. I know my accent is a little weird but really?

I digress. He was very friendly and helpful and we chatted a little about business and beans. I bought a flat white and didn't have enough cash so he let me off which was pretty cool of him.

The coffee was ok. I'd go back to try a black coffee to see what that's like. They used the cheap shitty soy milk which probably was what ruined it for me. I feel like I am on a personal crusade to educate people about soy milk. Is that or is that not one of the most pathetic things you have ever read? Do I care? Zero fucks given.

Gotta uphold the reputation of snobby, awkward, demanding vegans worldwide.

I've been brewing with the beans at home and they're pretty good! Chocolaty with a berry undertone. I don't wanna write this place off based on one mediocre coffee because supporting local businesses is important, especially in a town that's getting more and more generic.

I sat in the sun and enjoyed an article about teenage alcoholism, smug in my xvx bubble of irritating superiority.

UKCW day #2

So I have to write this down now because I have an awful memory and currently my head is full of guitar chords and confusing political philosophy.

I was in London to see Cold Cave (dreamy) and decided to try out some places I hadn't had a chance to before I moved. First up was Prufrock at Leather Lane. Now, I have been a huge fan of Prufrock @ Present, even with their unpredictable stocking of soy milk. Which leads me to the beginning of my experience at the new shop...

"Can I have a flat white with soy please"

"We don't do soy milk"

"Oh, ok, I'll take a long black then, thanks!"

(server turns to barista: "one americano")

"Take a seat, we'll bring it over"

So I await my coffee, checking out the large if somewhat clinical interior.

"Here's your flat white"

"Actually I ordered a long black..."

"Well do you want to try it anyway?"

"...I don't drink milk..."

Ok so it's an easy mistake to make but there were no other customers waiting for a drink and "flat white" does not sound like "long black" OR "americano". Anyway, it's a small gripe, and honestly it was the best long black I have ever had. Fucking phenomenal. Wish I had stayed for another.

Next up was the convoluted Department of Coffee and Social Affairs. In terms of atmosphere, it was cheese to the chalk of Prufrock. My barista was very friendly and we talked about Taylor St in Brighton as well as our favorite places to get coffee locally. I ordered my usual soy flat white. They definitely used Bonsoy (yay) and it was the perfect size. I continued my pretentious note-taking in the comfort of the small, cosy back room.

Much to my chagrin, one cannot live off grapes and coffee alone and by this point I was feeling a little shaky. As I had been walking around the city for a while now I had to briefly collapse at a Cafe Nero (I know, I know) so I could eat my rice cakes and catfood chickpea pate. I got a soy latte with sugar-free vanilla syrup, It set my teeth on edge a little but also did the job of energizing me enough that I could face hitting the Topshop mothership in order to try on 6 pairs of Levis which I was absolutely not going to pay £90 for.

Last but not least on my small adventure was Notes, Music and Coffee which had been recommended to me by several fellow snobs. This place is niiiiiiice. It's pretty much in Theater district opposite the National Portrait Gallery. The interior is very pretty and there's a bunch of seating, fancy chandeliers, long and impressive bar laden with shiny La Marzocco's. They brew with Square Mile, they use Bonsoy, my barista was adorably weird and super friendly. I can safely say the soy flat white was an 8/10. Very good. Not spectacular but how often do you drink a 10/10 coffee? Atmosphere plays a big part for me anyway and I would absolutely say try this place if you're in the West End (which is a fucking awful part of London if you didn't already know that).

Then I went to Cold Cave and swooned for a good hour, gazing up at W.Eisold dressed in decidedly Marc Bolan attire and unashamedly singing every word to all the songs.

no no no no no to everything.

I believe I have touched upon my issues with highstreet coffee shops appropriating antipodean styles of making coffee and, inevitably, doing a piss-poor job of imitating what is an extremely specialized, skillful profession.

I try not to spend a lot of time in the town center because, frankly, it takes every ounce of my self-control to not yell obscenities at ever fucking imbecile that I come across. On the occasions that I do venture out of my cave of solitude I have noticed more and more of what I can politely refer to as 'false advertising' and more honestly refer to as MASSIVE LIES.

Costa and Starbucks also claim to serve flat whites and now Coffee Republic. Come on guys. I understand that you are corporate businesses willing to monopolize on any 'niche' you come across in order to appeal to your vapid, ignorant demographic but I can't even laugh at this shit anymore. It's just sad.

This one is good. I see it everywhere. Considering it's based on shit coffee to begin with then the odds to not work in favor of the end product of this visual falsehood.

 There's an advert running on tv currently and at one point it shows a clip of Jamie Oliver blubbering, crocodile-tears running down his overweight babies face as he complains that people aren't massively into him rolling into their business and saying 'you're shit, I can do this better'.It makes me so happy. For one small moment a wave of enormous joy overwhelms me and then it's gone. But when I close my eyes I can still see his pain.

If I could bring myself to go get coffee at his restaurant then I would be surprised to say the least if I was served a drink that looks like that. Luckily, I'd rather carve my own eyeballs out with an ice-cream scoop and eat them than step over the threshold of that place.

What's next, McDonalds? Actually, worse. I saved the best for last...

I was gonna write something witty and acerbic but I am too busy vomiting all over myself.

Bonanza, Berlin

Rob, the guy who is doing my barista training (update about that to follow soon) told me I had to go here. It's supposedly the most elitist shop in the city. We went on Sunday before going to the Flomarkt across the street (totally recommended - so awesome for finding cool knick knacks and people-watching) I waited about 15 mins to be served, the shop was PACKED. It did give me time to look around, which wasn't difficult considering it's about the size of my bedroom. 

Bonanza is also a roastery so I bought a bag of their beans too, need to crack on with those after I finis the Phoenix. I think the baristas were Australian but it was hard to tell... one was maybe Dutch and looked epically Aryan (plus point for Bonanza, keepin' it master race). I also spied a bag of Blue Bottle beans but didn't wanna bother them by asking for that as my espresso because (a) busy as fuck and (b) intimidating as fuck. Good sign though.

The coffee was great. #2 of the 3 we visited. Very smooth and went down nicely while walking through the Flohmarkt where I searched for sketchy pin badges and bought skull related objects. I would say go to Bonanza during the week when I am sure it will be a little quieter. Don't expect to be able to sit down though.

Godshot, Berlin

I was recommended this shop by my buddy Bradley who is from DC but lived in Berlin for a time and is also a fan of coffee-based activities, as well as being the person who introduced me to Club Mate and as a result I am eternally grateful to him. Club Mate is like this non alcoholic caffeinated beverage slightly reminiscent of sparkling apple juice crossed with champagne... it's pretty weird and gives you an epic buzz as I discovered due to drinking some at 11pm and sleeping like shit as a result.

Cute shop, lots of seating and really nice baristas. I got talking to the girl who served us about working there and living in Berlin as an Australian. She asked where I was from and said I had the weirdest accent she'd ever heard - like a mix of american, english, australian and 'nowhere'. Dunno if that's bad or good or grouping three of the most disliked english-speaking countries together is kind of an insult. Whatever.

I did enjoy the coffee but it didn't blow me away. Kind of a bummer as I had heard such good things. The flat white was slightly... flat. Espresso was good. I mark it up because of the atmosphere. I also bought a bag of Phoenix Blue which is from a roastery in Dresden. I had heard a rumor that they brewed with Black Cat (Intellegentsia) but alas, no, no more...sadness.

The Barn, Berlin

Most of my friends know my current attitude towards my country of birth is one of resentment and I have itchy feet to get out, even if it's just for a while. My mum kindly offered to take me on vacation for a few days so we went to Berlin. I love the city, we visited when I was 17 but it was great to return as a more confident, adventurous person.

Obviously I researched coffee shops before leaving and three sounded particularly promising. The Barn was a 15 min walk from our apartment in Prenzlauer Berg and is pretty fucking tiny - definitely not one to go and sit in unless you don't care about personal space (I do and almost made my mum cry on another occasion when I told her to get the fuck out of my face. I am a brat).

It does do great coffee. Like, really fucking good. It was the best I had during the trip. I got a flat white and it reminded me of the coffee from Prufrock @ Present. Milk was perfect, espresso was perfect, whole execution was extremely enjoyable. My mum also agreed that it was the one she preferred.

Prenzlauer Berg is a cool neighborhood, made me feel kind of at home cuz it has an East London vibe going on. You can walk to Mitte too if it's a nice day going past the Museum area which is pretty epic.

Obviously I got no foam art. Obviously. Fuck you.

Taylor Street Baristas, Brighton

TSB, TSB how do I love thee, let me count the ways. When I first moved back I was going in every day which is a little excessive. The baristas who work here are very, very lovely and I've had several informative conversations about coffee with one girl in particular. I like the actual shop a lot too - it's minimalist without being clinical but nowhere near as Brightonified as Marwood (ugh). I think everyone who works there is Kiwi or Aussie...I actually got mistaken for an Australian at one point which is a first. I tried not to be offended...lol jk Australians are great.

Went in with Alice, my best and most cherished friend, for her blog induction before I went to my German lesson. One 3 shot soy flat white and one 4 shot long black later and I was definitely revved up for Deutsche...my tutor possibly thinks I smoke crack now.

The coffee at TSB is always good. I like consistency; it leaves no room for failure, which my life has enough of. Today I wanted to try a pour-over but they didn't have any of the beans they use for those/aeropress. TSB uses Union beans as well as sourcing from other locations and they have 4 or 5 blends to try which is pretty cool.

This is Alice's notebook. She's really into k-pop, as are two more friends of mine Bunny and Jess (bunnybissoux.blogspot.com and nunasknowbest.blogspot.com). Frankly the whole situation confuses me but then again, my current playlist revolves mainly around In Utero-era Nirvana, 80s straight edge hardcore and this amazing band called Milk Music so what the fuck do I know. Anyway, even a philistine like myself can recognize that k-pop x Misfits is pretty great.

Finally - no children or prams today, just a man who's left hand looked like it was rotting. Made a hasty exit for fear of catching leprosy.

Ground, Brighton

I have walked past this place 54897684976 times and never wanted to go inside because it was always so FUCKING BUSY AND FULL OF PEOPLE WITH PRAMS. I don't hide the fact that I believe children should neither be seen nor heard until they are of an age that they can provide something worthwhile to society in any way, even if it's serving me in the video rental store. Infants and toddlers creep me the fuck out and yet are drawn towards me, like fat fleshy moths toward a cold, black flame.

Anyway, Stevie and I go to TSB all the time in our day to day travels so for a coffee date we figured it was a good idea to try somewhere new. 3pm on a Friday meant Ground was pretty quiet and there were zero children, so 1pt right there.

I have had the pleasure of knowing Stevie for a good many years, from the heady days of our punk youths in West Berkshire to shared time living in Brighton. I love that I am still such good friends with so many great people from like, 8 or 9 years ago still. He and I share a healthy misanthropy and general distrust of humanity and life in general as well as a good cup of joe.

The flat white was very good. No Bonsoy but the milk had been textured well and they hit the 'sweet spot' (technical term, google it, I'm lazy). Stevie had an aeropress which he said was ok, we both then had a long black which was agreed to be excellent. Gave me the jitters which is unusual and I take as a good sign. Baristas were cute and friendly, shop is not THAT small and has a back room but there was a creepy old man sat there...can't really allow that to reflect on my rating, though.

Will visit again if the lack of children can be guaranteed in advance.

Cafe Coho

My mum was in town to hang out with my brother and I which was pretty nice as we don't all get to hang out that often. In between a trip to UO (lol we all bought something) and the noodle bar we grabbed coffee at this place. It's next to Marwood which I HATE because it embodies everything awful about Brighton (fake try hard art student/hippie/useless sack of shit artwork and bad coffee masquerading as quality - calling something a flat white doesn't make it a flat white. They often burn their espresso, too).

Anyway, it's a pretty nice looking shop, clean and minimalist inside. Reminded me of Blue Bottle in Williamsburg a little (only aesthetically, sadly, the coffee was good but not THAT good).

They used a different fern in my coffee so it didn't get confused with the cows milk flat whites which I thought was a cute way of making sure there were no mix-ups. Staff were almost over-friendly and very eager to please. Place was dead, I'd go back again to use wifi and try their long blacks. My bro clocked that they use a Gaggia #fuckyeah.

In short: fuck Marwood forever. If I was really gross I'd shit on their doorstep as a sort of dirty protest (people do this outside the movie theater I work at sometimes, kind of weird). If you're in the south Laines then definitely go here.

Flat White/Sacred Cafe, London

(1) Melancholy trip up to say goodbye to my old apartment (2) Frustrating and expensive mission to replace my passport (lost my purse during moving, let the shit rain down on me). 'Make it stop' element to both somewhat lessened by the inclusion of coffee.

I spent ages trying to think of what else SFW could stand for but they were all lame.

So Fucking Weird? I am not 14, I'm not wearing a tshirt that says 'you're just jealous that all the little voices are talking to me' that I bought from Camden Market.

So Fucking Wired is way more suitable. I seem to spend a lot of my life in a state of wound-up alert these days.

 This book is really good. I picked it up used for really cheap. Right now I'm reading the chapter which discusses theories based around how the sex drive and death drive are connected despite the latter being the antithesis of the 'innate' need to 'continue the species'.

Dunno if understanding aggression will help me deal with my own anger issues or allow me to refine my hate even further. I wonder if I need anger management?

Look Mum, No Hands - London

Awful name. Not sure if it's better or worse than Tina, We Salute You (one of the highest rated coffee shops in London despite this)? It kinda fits with the whole bike-courier-Williamsburg-hang-out thing I guess...for better or worse...god what am I saying? I've become everything I hate.

I was in town for the Violent Shitt/Good Throb (both bands RULE, really looking forward to seeing both of them again) show and to see my lovechild/ex roommate Coco. Everyone I called was too hungover to hang out (~smug nondrinker~)so I trekked to Old St to check this place out.

Aside from the personal name-based grudge, I really liked LMNH. It's BIG which is a MASSIVE BONUS because I sat there for 4 hours and didn't feel like I was outstaying my welcome. Milk Bar/Flat White/Nude provide the upper-echelon of coffee and snobbery but they get pretty cramped, especially at weekends, and all close 6pm at the latest whereas this place stays open til 8 or 10pm.

The shop is full of bikes and bike shit which is cool if you like bikes and wanna stare at them. Lots of bike people with small hats and lycra. I basically sat at the window for a really long time waiting to go meet friends, mainlining long blacks (v. good) and reading Blanchot essays on my macbook (wifi! another BONUS). Nice staff. Cheap and quality coffee. Welcoming atmosphere. It's a little 'out of the way' (10 min walk from Old St) but worth it.

Marwood

Ship St, Brighton

k Brighton, I get it. Honestly I do. I know your ways. You're so cool and cute and edgy and fun. You have the vegetarian shoe shop and a milkshake store and American Apparel and the most expensive Oxfam IN THE WORLD and everyone is white, middle class and too educated to get a useful job. Marwood is like...it's like a classier student union coffee shop. They sell 'fancy' ramen/Pot Noodle and call the extra 30p for soymilk a 'tax' and the walls have dumpstered 'art' on them.

 




But part of my mission is to try different things (ugh, make it stop) so I took my brothers there for coffee.

The 'barista' (let's be honest here, he hadn't earned that title) announced as we ordered that it was his last day so he didn't give a fuck. Great, awesome, please don't jerk off into my coffee, I will probably catch 5 million diseases. I got a flat white with soy.

 

Like really...really...what is that? I appreciate the effort but Tom gets a Nightmare Before Christmas-esque deviantArt heart and I get what my friend Eric later described as a 'white dwarf'. Perhaps it was interpretative foam art - I am definitely white and while not technically a dwarf, I am quite short.

It was ok coffee. Will not be going back. The fake cat was funny for five minutes but that sort of novelty will not win me over, Marwood.

Sacred Cafe

Carnaby St/Covent Garden, London

Carnaby Street likes to think it's really cool because it has like, boutique shops and the Vans store is there but really it's just Oxford Street minus a few thousand people. Aka, still my own personal hell. Sometimes I wonder why I moved to London and then I remember it's because I thought I was too cool for Brighton (more fool me as I run back, tail between my legs). I have, however, perfected my own personal blend of industrial strength misanthropic vitriol which allows me to continue existing in a non-hermetic state. As a result, I braved central London to meet my friend James.

I hadn't heard of Sacred Cafe so it was on his recommendation (always appreciated as the internet can be a somewhat dubious resource and there's only so much you can gain from Time Out).

Turns out it's a really nice coffee shop and manages to trick you into thinking you're not in Cunt Central which is quite an achievement. Due to the location the queue was always pretty long but w/e I will wait 5 mins for something once I know it's worth it (5 mins is sometimes generous twss).

Larger coffees than places like Nude or Flat White but the taste wasn't particularly compromised. Very friendly baristas, nice food, reasonably priced. I made James order me a long soy macchiato which might even be worse than 'double shot mocha with soy and vegan chocolate'.

The day after I went to get my hair cut as part of my high-functioning emotional breakdown and went to the Covent Garden shop which was not as nice but the coffee was just as good. They use their own blend which I would probably buy to use at home if I didn't already have 4 bags of beans on the go (I have no life).

Bea's of Bloomsbury

Holborn, London

I know everyone still buttfucks cutesy cupcake culture but it's not something I am massively into. I don't have much of a sweet tooth and tend to think of cake as a pointless addition to life that will never make you feel anything more than regret for eating it. As of now, my only 'vice' is coffee and I am totally fine with that, why the fuck would I eat cake to make up for not drinking or smoking? Idiotic. This is why people get obese: cupcakes are a gateway drug. They're small so you think they don't count but therein lies your mistake, fatty. Have an apple.

Anyway, baked-goods based rants aside, the coffee here is really quite good. They use Square Mile AND Bonsoy so that is 2 A+ before I've even tried it. I had 2 flat whites and both were great. The shop was cold as fuck though, and putting the heating on isn't gonna break the bank guys, obviously you make a pretty penny via frosting and if I wanted to freeze my ass off while I discussed disillusionment and possible future spinsterdom I would sit at home.

Fig. 1: return of the blob. Personally I think it resembles an infected vagina (vile gash?). Artfully rendered at least. Almost Picasso-esque but with less of the classical Cubism; the fluidity of the blobs suggests a move away from the harsh, boxed in quality of his earlier work.

Obviously Bea's coffee does not suffer from the shop's focus on food and cakes, which is nice and somewhat of a novelty. Unfortunately, and this is not their fault, I am like the antichrist of twee and objects like this <<< offend mine eyes greatly.

On the way home I bought a life-sized skull tealight holder. Fuck you, cakestand.

Redwood Coffee

Trafalgar Street, Brighton

Another new-ish shop by the sea. One downside of moving back there from London is that there are only really a few good places compared to the capital city. Taylor St is great but I am worried that they will think I am mental if I go in every day and start recognizing when I've had a haircut or compliment me on my new shoes. Actually that would make them more mental than me.

Redwood is biiiig and pretty cute/kitschy as you'd expect from being spitting distance from the Laines. Mostly Kiwi baristas and they play that godfuckingawful trippy chillout hip hop. It is cheap though (no Bonsoy but they don't charge any extra for soymilk) and last time I got a 3 shot soy flat white for the same price as a regular...pretty sure the barista was high as fuck though and I am not basing that on the fact he had dreadlocks as fucking TODDLERS have dreadlocks in Brighton. Fuck my life, this is why I don't go outside unless totally necessary, the world is actually disgusting.

The foam art seen here is a Monet-esque reinterpretation of a fern. I seriously think everyone who works there is high, you know those photos of when a spider weaves a web after it's been smoked out? >>>>>>>>>>

Camden Coffee House

Camden (no shit), London

So far we have had the good. Time for the not so good. Anywhere that serves milkshakes and chai tea lattes (which is what my companion got...jesus fuck are you an 11 year old girl?) is probably not gonna be AMAZING for coffee but I find it in my heart some time to not judge a book by its cover without caressing its pages.

Sadly I was right. The shop uses Has Bean blends which I haven't had before and wouldn't try again in a hurry. The espresso base was ok but nothing on Square Mile. The milk was too hot which is a schoolboy error. The microfoam was good though and apparently the incoherent galaxy is their 'signature' foam art (LAZY).

It's also a tiny shop but as far as I know, Camden isn't crawling with great places to get coffee. What it is crawling with are throwbacks from every music and style scene known to man so if you haven't been to see the weird and wonderful freaks...don't go. The town makes my skin crawl, every time I step off the subway I want to throw up everywhere. And I have spent a fair amount of time at the Underworld seeing hardcore bands of varying talent and eating thai vegan buffet.

Fuck Camden.

On a plus note, I got the opportunity to discuss the philosophy of war with my good friend Jack who is not only a writer but a BJJ instructor and general nihilistic asshole like myself. Here I am reading his first novel and pretending I am as smart as he is...

Milk Bar

Soho, London

Flat White's big sister. Apparently a 'milk bar' is an Australian thing but to me it sounds like some creepy, Clockwork Orange-esque establishment which would involve drinking the aforementioned non-vegan beverage direct from a swollen nipple attached to a distressed cow perhaps sporting some kind of latex.

I digress. It's roomier than FW but still retains the atmosphere and I like how high the bar is. Also, they do food and RUMOR HAS IT that there is vegan french toast to be had. Usually I am too excited about coffee for food but breakfast for dinner is one of my favorite things to do because I am 5 years old.

This is grumpy birthday me (seductive bags under eyes? rain-greased hair? dejected glare?) mid-way through a soy macchiato which was AMAZING. I could have a bath in those, I don't give a fuck, I want to douse myself in sweet, sweet espresso and stay awake forever (like Lady Bathory and virgins blood, see?)

Also, it stays open until 7pm which is late by London standards (oh England when will you learn to embrace coffee culture as equivalent to that of alcohol?).

Flat White

Soho, London.

Picture the scene: my 24th birthday, I am in a DARK PLACE (unfortunately unrelated in any way to Garth Marenghi) and the streets run amok with tourist shit cunts, xmas shopping like their lives mean nothing beyond materialistic offerings and getting in my way. My parents selfishly timed my birth exactly one week before xmas and every year the charade of excitement slips further and further away.

So my mum is in town and all I want to do is drink coffee and gaze broodingly through a rain splattered window so I made her go to Flat White with me.

It's great. My #1 coffee shop in London. Antipodean *check*; cute baristas *check*; impeccable flat white (would have to be as it is the shop's namesake) *check*; Square Mile specially designed blend *check* etc = when I can move in pls?

I went in recently with my friend Stu and they forgot our coffees (twice lol oh what are you guys like, fucking Kiwis...just kidding) but did try and bribe us with cake to apologize. Regretfully I am vegan and he's on a diet.

SEE? SEE THESE? This is foam art.

Nude Espresso

Bethnal Green, London

I love Nude for several reasons, not connected to the act of being nude, which whilst being brilliant for certain activities is not neccesarily a state I like to be in while around hot liquids (twss?)

One, it is 20 mins walk from my apartment. Two, everyone that works there is really nice. Three, they use the Holy Bonsoy, milked from the finest Australian soybean nipples. Four, it is probably the only thing I like about Brick Lane which is a massive sea of cunts.

And obviously the coffee is awesome. Consistently awesome. I usually get a three shot flat white which is always impeccably made and presented. Nude is tied top 3 of my favorite places to get coffee in London.

They also sell their own blends for a very reasonable £6ish and if you are partial to food what has got cheese and meats in it then I believe they do a good sandwich too.

TOURIST TIP: The street the shop is on was where Jack the Ripper committed one of his first murders. I like to roll around on the sidewalk in imaginary evisceration after my coffee.

Taylor Street Baristas, Brighton

l-r: macchiato with soy, 16oz latte with soy

I lived in Brighton for 5 years as a non-coffee drinker (dark, dark days) and now, on the (metaphorical) eve of my reintegration there is this little beacon of light on the gross street by the station. Aussie/Kiwi run antipodean style coffee made with BONFUCKINGSOY aka greatest soymilk for the dairy-free coffee snob. I will pay the 60p ($1) extra with a shit eating grin on my face because it is so good.

First time I went I got the above order. Macchiato was ok, not the best I have had but still very good. The latte was a mistake, but mine not theirs. I can't deal with that milk-to-coffee ratio anymore.

Now I get a 'double' (four) shot flat white with bonsoy. Hasn't failed me yet. Only peeve is that they don't serve 'large' (16oz) coffees in ceramic cups, only takeout cups. So do what every other decent coffee shop does and don't go above 12oz, simple. Smaller is better (that's not what she said).

Downside: due to location, it's usually full of Brighton yummy mummies and daddies with screaming whelps who think they shit gold because they've mastered the fine art of procreation.

4 shot flat white (fallen down a bit, and they always put the lid on before serving, guys it makes your foam art look shit, jfyi)