Because I am too close to this and taking forever to write, have delusions of my funny yet articulate writing style etc etc. I’m going to start posting this like the chapters of my favourite Wattpad books (which means there will be minimal editing and there is no guarantee that each part will be substantial, sometimes it will just be me rambling because I like to do that and you will have to keep up)
The Obsession
It was inevitable that I would do a home cafe given my two favourite things are coffee and putting in too much effort. Much to the annoyance of everyone around me I do not know what too much means, but to the delight of everyone not dragged into the process with me; a home cafe was born.
I will loosely detail the steps for myself and for others who want to know what this experience was like. By which I mean I will try my level best to recreate the chaotic organizational structure of my brain.
The idea was very appealing because this was my opportunity to invite a bigger and varied group of people, a cafe model meant there was no pressure on anyone to stay for the whole day. People could keep coming and going. I had plans to put people on shifts for making coffee so I could do my favorite thing ever; go around the room surfing between different groups of people with no pressure of having to stick to any particular crowd or conversation.
This would also mean that people could come and have a quiet sit down, if that is what they preferred. Less pressure to fake having fun in a loud crowded space, (maybe this is not something only I am plagued with ) something that is nonetheless very important to me.
The Possibility Changing Into The Tangible
The idea actually took root in reality (as opposed to a forever loosely floating idea in my brain) when one of my flat mates got a bunch of creamers from the US. This meant it would be very easy to serve drinks, cut down the prep time, and pre prepare things. I also have a friend who had been brewing really good cold brews we were mixing with almost any and everything we were drinking. I felt confident that this was something that could be undertaken.
I find trouble seeing myself as someone who has the skills to do fun things for people but seeing all my wonderful friends with all this talent and warmth on their fingertips really made me want to be an amplifier for them. That could be my contribution.
I had to decide on a date. I knew realistically that if I put myself to it a 7-10 day prep time would be enough. But I wanted to savor this. So I decided on a future date, two weeks away.
At first, I was very against the idea of asking people to pay. It felt transactional and detached. I wanted the experience to be cozy and friendly. But the more I considered the logistics of the event the more apparent it became that this would be an expensive endeavour.
I was at a crossroad. I could either scale down the expanse of my vision and stringently monitor the money I spent. Or I could figure out a way to ask people to contribute without making it feel like a transaction. I considered different models, do I ask them to pay after one drink (but then people would think about what they could order), should I keep the food free and price ALL drinks (but again, why would people then want to taste the different flavours, would they be hesitant sharing the drinks?)
The Madness Sets In - (Experimenting with Drinks)
Over the days I ordered different types of coffee, tallied the amount I would need. I had weekend taste-testing sessions with my friends where I would try a bunch of different drinks with different proportions and rate everything we had. My lactose intolerance was making itself angrily apparent to me but my mind wasn’t paying much heed. The one thing I was sure of, more than ever before, was that coffee was something I well and truly loved. No amount of consumption was making me sick of it.
The process really started gaining momentum and taking over my life when I experimented with making my own syrup. Suddenly the possibilities were endless. I would mix different things, I was going crazy. I could tell how cafes were making coffee, how many of them were using syrup out of a bottle.
Things got even more intense when I walked into the kitchen one day and spotted carrots going soft and thought, what if I make a drink out of this which was essentially gajar ka halwa in a bottle? These experiments were conducted like a mad scientist where I deliberated for hours over pouring in small quantities of different ingredients hoping this one little extra thing would not ruin the taste of the drink. I’m sure my job was going on in parallel but I cannot for the life of me recall or tell you what I was doing in those 2hr meetings I kept having. I was frustrated with everyone, no one seemed to care about the proportions and slight alternations I was absorbed with for hours.
The experiment did not equal confidence though. By the end of the first week I was very doubtful. I had spread the excitement in a bunch of people and was now beginning to realise I had nothing prepared at all. The first seed of confidence was planted when I took some carrot milk for Anik to taste and he said he liked it. It felt like there was finally something I had gotten right. I wasn’t yet sure how I was going to serve it but I knew it was going to be on the menu for sure. (rebranded of course because who wants to drink carrot milk at a cafe?)
Equipped with the confidence now feeding my grand delusion I was becoming even more annoying. Any thought that wasn’t directly contributing to the cafe was dialed down to the lowest volume!!