The city selected for this year’s coffee expo was San Diego, California. About three weeks ago, the Specialty Coffee Expo took place at San Diego’s convention center. It’s important to note that the SCA Expo recently changed its name to World of Coffee, which is what the Specialty Coffee Association expos are known internationally as. This early on, us coffee people are still just calling it “expo” for ease of understanding.

For this one, my partner Dani and I spent a week in San Diego to not only experience World of Coffee, but the city as well. I would say San Diego is a great spot for people like myself from Mexico, Central and South America since I think it can be a little bit easier to visit. This is because you can fly to Tijuana and then cross the border to San Diego.

To me, San Diego is a rad city since the laid back California vibes are all around! Punks, skaters, surfers, and for a weekend (or maybe a bit more) the coffee community from all over the world met here.

Something that really excites me about these events is actually what happens outside of them: the café visits, the activities that coffee companies host, and the “takeover” of coffee shops around the city.

During this trip, I got to visit four cafés in the San Diego area, and attended one activity.

Provecho! Coffee Co.

A popular recommendation from coffee friends, their massive location is inside of Bread and Salt Gallery. The café was packed, with at least 10 people waiting in line at a time. Even so, the hospitality was always there. For this reason, I decided to order a drip coffee instead of a pour over, which was a bright and sweet washed Oaxacan coffee from Sierra Mixteca. This is a great spot to feel inspired, since you can spend time in a great gallery but beside that, the café has its magic and you can really feel community happening in this place.

Espresso machine: La Marzocco

Bird Rock Coffee Roasters

A renowned company in San Diego, Bird Rock got its start back in 2002, and last time I was here in San Diego I didn’t get a chance to visit as many locations. This time around, we finally made it to one outside of downtown.

The interior design is beautiful with a lot of wood work. Along with white details, it really represents the laid back Californian vibe. The female baristas created a special energy at the café, who were all super friendly and helpful in explaining their menu. As a huge coffee person myself, it was a joy that they had multiple coffee beans to choose from. I got a sweet and tea-like Kenyan espresso, which was a washed heirloom from The Karogoto Factory.

Espresso machine system: Slayer

Event: “A celebration of beautiful coffee” by SEY x Hyunah, hosted by Lance Hedrick

This is one of the activities I was so excited to attend since it was just before WoC (World of Coffee), so we had more time and energy to enjoy it. At first though, I had no idea what to expect.

After maybe 15 minutes of waiting in line, the location opened the doors to reveal the biggest lab of coffee gadgets you could have ever dreamed of. You were free to use whatever you wanted to use to brew your coffee, from grinders like Zerno to an array of espresso machines like La Marzocco, Flair, and Decent Espresso. There were also plenty of manual brewers on hand, such as Origamis, V60s, Kalitas, Hario Switches, etc. And of course, there were filters from all sizes and brands–even specialized ones like those from Sibarist. To complete the experience, there were several types of filtered waters, and even distilled water to make your own mineral blend. You could expect that the coffee selection itself was massive. They had a huge selection of coffees from all over the world roasted by SEY.

Dani and I nerded out hard as we brewed a fantastic washed Mejorado from José and Pepe Jijón, and Francisco Vintimilla from Putushio farm in Ecuador. Unique experiences like this are truly what make the coffee community exciting.

Rikka Fika

After WoC, we finally got the chance to go to Rikka Fika. We somehow forgot that attending during expo means that everyone you know will be there, plus regulars. Well, Rikka Fika met our expectations despite the chaos of crowds. It was a well designed café, minimalistic but with personality, and what I love most–a well curated coffee selection.

Rikka Fika is a place that you can tell has an eye for detail. I was excited to try their coffee offerings; we ordered two single-origin espressos.

• Anaerobic washed bourbon from Rwanda and Roasted by La Cabra in Denmark.

• Honey yellow bourbon from Costa Rica from producer Don Eli and Roasted by Leaves Coffee in Tokyo.

Both espressos were delicious, but the Costa Rican coffee paired with their ‘Financier’ pastry was so yummy. At Rikka Fika, you could feel the passion behind every order because this is a place where you really go to slow down and have fun when you drink coffee.

Espresso machine system: La Marzocco

Torque Coffee

During World of Coffee, I got to taste Torque Coffee since they were giving away drip coffee at the event. Sure, I thought the coffees were really nice, but I didn’t know they were local. A few days later, I stumbled upon their cafe on Google Maps, which helped me decide on one of our final destinations.

After a 15-min drive from Old Town, when we got to Torque, they were packed with no tables available but that didn’t stop us. We were fascinated by the interior design; every corner, every shelf, and every coffee bag had personality. After seeing all their coffees, their barista Michelle explained their drive for transparency throughout the coffee chain. You can grab one of their coffee bags and read everything you would want to know about that coffee, from the producer’s name to the coffee origin, process, variety, when they started their relationship with them, etc. This is one of those coffee spots where you get excited about coffee from a wide variety of details, whether it’s their looks, the space, the hospitality, and of course the coffee.

Espresso machine system: Synesso

Thanks for reading! If you ever visit the San Diego area, now you have a few spots to visit, explore, and enjoy a great cup of coffee. For me, it’s important to acknowledge that these types of events, such as World of Coffee, must merge audiences. A passionate industry member should be just as welcomed as a coffee lover wanting to discover great coffees and cafés. If we don’t properly communicate the amazing work to the rest of the community, this industry will not thrive. And more importantly, hundreds of coffee producers will change their crops to something else. So please, enjoy–and most importantly, share with the world.

—Juanjo

Thailand is many things for me. It’s one of the most popular travel destinations in Southeast Asia. It’s where my mom grew up before immigrating to the United States. It’s also a place whose food has made a lasting impact on the culinary scene in this country—but little is known about its coffee.

I would even argue that today, many people in the States don’t know that coffee grows in Thailand. Everyone usually thinks of Thai tea when they think about Thai beverages. However, both countries have contributed to this lack of awareness; Thailand exports less coffee internationally in general, and Thai-American restaurants tend to place their beverage focus on the tea.

So when I explored Chiang Mai’s coffee scene last month in northern Thailand, I was set on finding specialty cafés that served Thai beans since they are harder to come across at home. Thanks to some suggestions from my friend, barista competitor Peace Sakulclanuwat, that wasn’t hard to find—every single coffee shop had several types of Thai beans to choose from, along with plenty of other standout factors that made my visit memorable (and delicious).

Brewginning

After a late afternoon flight into Chiang Mai, the first place we headed for a pick-me-up was Brewginning. A café with an open-entry floor plan is something that simply can’t be pulled off in the States. One reason being the varying climates we have throughout the country, and second reason being the higher rate of theft that we experience. That said, it’s always a welcoming experience to take a seat at a café like this and be able to people watch a little more immersively.

Walking up to Brewginning, I was excited to see three different Thai coffee options on the menu: a Thai-Columbia-Brazil blend (dark roast), a regional Thai blend (light roast), and a single-origin Thai natural. I also noticed two drinks on the menu that I soon learned are popular drinks throughout Thailand: “The Dirty” and “Orange Espresso.” I chose the orange espresso (a shot of espresso poured over a glass of orange juice) and took my seat at a long bench, my legs dangling across the sidewalk as I watched hoards of tourists pose for photoshoots in front of some Instagram-famous woven materials shop. One thing has been made clear to me while traveling in this decade, and it’s that the most random things will end up blowing up on social media for no reason other than the algorithm worked in someone’s favor.

Akha Ama Coffee Roasters

Akha Ama had been on my radar long before my trip to Chiang Mai. Named for and by the Akha northern hill tribe, the coffee business has been around since 2010, and was one of the first in the region to start growing and promoting sustainable Arabica coffee. Today, Akha Ama has three café locations in Chiang Mai. Walking through small alleyways to get here, I was impressed to find a large, beautiful two-story building tucked in between several other businesses. I was even more impressed to browse through a multi-page menu of beans for pour over whose options ranged from roast profile to region to processing method. I settled on the Candy Crash, an intentional blend of Thai natural coffees, as I walked upstairs to another seating area, full of clean, wood accents and warm lighting. I felt lucky to finally have made it to this space, and to have so many options for beans.

Gallery Drip Coffee

Gallery Drip may be another “Instagram famous” café, whose owner didn’t flinch as phone cameras filled his peripheral space while brewing pour overs for customers—which, by the way, was the only option at this espresso-free space. Upon entry, you’re greeted by a massive shelf that displays colorfully designed drip cones. Gallery Drip has been around since 2012, and is tucked on a corner of the bottom floor of the Lanna Folklife Centre. Being exclusively a drip coffee-focused space, there were also several beans to choose from, all of which were from northern Thailand. Although the specialty coffee scene in Thailand seems to be very much enamored with natural process, I decided to stray this time in favor of a washed coffee from Omkoi, Chiang Mai. Although the coffee was expectedly amazing, the neighboring Lanna Folklife Centre itself was admittedly disorganized and boring.

Ministry of Roasters

If I wasn’t already blown away by the pour over scene in Chiang Mai, Ministry of Roasters may have completed the experience, who also has a Bangkok location. There were dozens of beans that I rarely see offered for retail bags in the States, ranging from competition lots to geshas, anaerobic Ethiopian coffees, and honey processed Costa Rican coffees (an option that’s harder to come across in Thailand, specifically). A thoughtful menu of signature drinks also accompanies the pour overs, which included a Black Pink (pink guava lychee juice with cold brew) and the Dirty with a caramel waffle—prepared on a boiler-free espresso machine. I could tell the commitment to coffee as a craft has been realized there, from receiving my coffee in a wine glass with brewing ratio information to an upstairs gallery showcasing coffee art.

Coffee: Washed Caturra-Castillo blend
Origin: Huila, Columbia
Altitude: 1,700-1,950 masl
Notes: blackberry, nugget, honeycomb

Typically, you’ll find me drinking a Latin American coffee in the morning. I’m not particularly picky, but most of the time, a Latin American coffee is going to check the boxes I have for what I’m looking for in my morning brew. Some may find it boring, but my morning brew is usually a pour over Chemex style, or when I’m in the mood, an espresso with soda water. You’ll find that enough years in this industry will make you want less and less milk with your coffee. The whole process of a pour over is almost as important as the actual coffee drinking. As for my favorite to make for a guest at Cadejo, I simply love making whatever will bring a smile. Most people are pretty pumped to get something with some latte art, so if I can make someone a Cafe de Olla latte, everyone is usually happy.

So I found this coffee from a friend who also happens to roast coffee for me at Cadejo. It’s honestly how I find most of my favorite coffees—when the love language of your community is sharing good food and drinks. When it happens this way, it doesn’t take me long to find something that stands out. A result of having enthusiastic friends is that we get excited to share good coffee. It makes it that much easier to find something special and thoughtfully selected.

Produced by the Columbia Hulia Women’s Coffee farm (a group of 20 women coffee producers), the coffee is from the Hulia Region of Columbia, to spell it out quite literally. Grown at an altitude of 1700 to 1950 masl, the coffee is grown in clay and mineral-rich soil. The coffee cherries are a blend of the Castillo and Caturra varieties, processed fully washed, and dried inside solar drying beds, which protect it from the rain. When brewed, this coffee has a subtle complexity, highlighting fruity notes of black berry, as well as warm notes, of nugget and honeycomb. A coffee like this reminds me that there is more to a product than its stereotypes.

I wouldn’t say this coffee is particularly exclusive, rare, or hard to find like an anaerobic gesha from an emerging coffee-growing region or something of that sort. (Because let’s be honest, it’s not that hard to find gesha coffee these days). However, I think with the trends that constantly change in the coffee industry, it’s important to always try different coffees because you may come across something that you end up liking more than you would’ve thought.

Watch our episode about Cadejo Coffee on The Takeover, a video series highlighting some of the best coffee shops in the world.

Electrica was tucked inside one of the most beautiful buildings in the city, a space that immediately made people slow down and look around. It felt special the moment you walked in, which is part of what made its closure so hard. The showroom we were connected to unfortunately closed rather abruptly, and for reasons beyond our control, that meant Electrica had to close as well. It’s heartbreaking to see such a stunning space go quiet, especially when so much care and intention lived inside it.

Electrica was truly a hidden gem. Once people found it, they came back again and again. Many of our regulars built it into their routines, stopping by several times a week. And if you know, you know - the Saikyo latte alone was reason enough to return. The response to the closure made it clear how deeply people cared. Customers weren’t just sad to lose a cafe: they were sad to lose a place that felt personal to them.

I feel that loss as well. I never planned on leaving Electrica while it was open. It was my favorite job I’ve had, and it set a standard that will be hard to match.

Working under Seiji Nanbu completely changed my relationship to coffee. He is an incredibly skilled barista, but more than that, he is a true natural. From Japanese teas to Mexican coffees that reflected his own heritage, everything we served had thought and care behind it. His pour overs became a destination on their own. Watching him smell the coffee, make subtle adjustments, and brew with such precision was an experience, and it pushed me to take more pride in my own work.

Seiji took a chance on me. Before Electrica, I had only worked in smaller cafes and at Starbucks, and I hadn’t been exposed to the deeper complexities of specialty coffee. I also learned latte art there, and having space to be creative made going to work something I genuinely looked forward to.

What made Electrica truly special was the community. I worked alongside coworkers I loved, and with very little turnover, we grew together. I served the same regulars for nearly three years, forming connections and friendships I will always hold close.

I’m forever thankful for the time I spent at Electrica and for everything I learned while I was there.

I was recently going through my earliest notes from when I first stepped behind the bar at a specialty coffee shop. Reading them again, I realized how my world completely shifted once I understood how complex a 500-year-old beverage could be.

Things like cleaning the steam wand after every use, back-flushing the group heads, or obsessing over extraction weren’t common practices in non-specialty cafés in Mexico. Everything felt excessive at first. I was learning too much, too fast. Yet somewhere between the repetition and the discipline, I fell in love with the craft.

Even though I’m no longer a full-time barista, coffee remains my first love. I spent around four years working in specialty coffee in Guadalajara. That path eventually brought me to the United States and, unexpectedly, forced me to confront some deeply ingrained myths about what a “first-world” coffee culture is supposed to look like. I arrived with high expectations — especially because of where I landed: Portland, Oregon.

Portland was the dream destination of every La Americana neighborhood-hipster barista back home. You know the archetype: tall guy, beard, tattoos, rides a bike, drinks oat milk. The same guy who’s in Guadalajara is also the same guy in Portland. People at home would talk about PDX like it’s a sacred ground for coffee — incredible espresso machines, world-class baristas, endless knowledge.

That fantasy didn’t survive contact with reality. I’m deeply nerdy about coffee. I expected to walk into any local café, order a brewbar method with a special bean, and have the barista light up while telling me the story behind the producer or the origin. That almost never happened. What I quickly learned is that Portland is a coffee city — but mostly a latte city.

It’s not about origins; it’s about syrups. The more syrups, the better. People want sugar and milk with a hint of coffee, very few customers order espresso out of curiosity, and even fewer want to talk about the beans. Asking for an AeroPress, Kalita, or V60 feels almost out of place. Food is non-negotiable. No breakfast, no customers.

Of course, baristas do what they can. Some care deeply about dialing in espresso or offering a couple of well-processed, thoughtfully roasted coffees for manual brews. But at the end of the day, people simply don’t order them.

That curiosity — the desire to ask questions, to learn — is something I’ve found more often in hidden garage cafés in Mexico than in many polished coffee bars in Portland.

To be clear, this isn’t true everywhere. Portland still has incredible cafés that care deeply about what they serve. Places like Less and More, Heart, and Cadejo are doing important work. Eléctrica was one of those magical bars too, but unfortunately, they closed forever last Sunday, 25 January 2026.

One undeniable advantage of the city is access. Specialty coffee is everywhere. Even if many baristas don’t know how to prepare it well, you can still find a wide range of roasters, if not origins, almost anywhere — even at the supermarket. That simply doesn’t happen in Mexico.

There’s also money here. A lot of it. Even the most unremarkable café will have a La Marzocco. Back home, there are cafés that start with nothing but manual brewers, or the most basic Breville, or even a moka pot. However, what matters isn’t the machine — it’s the intention.

At the end of the day, this is just my perspective. But coffee, like any cultural expression, tells you more about people than equipment ever could.

Taking this trip was also an opportunity to visit Paris for the first time, a city that I always assumed was financially unattainable for solo travel. That year, however, was one of the few rare moments in history in which the U.S. dollar was stronger than the Euro. Booking the trip felt like a “now or never” kind of moment at the time in 2022.

Prior to my trip, I hadn’t even bothered to research specialty coffee cafés when I was planning. I had always heard that the coffee in Paris sucked for the same ways that specialty coffee people say the coffee sucks in Italy.

“Coffee in Paris is old school.”

“It’s all dark roast and espresso.”

“The milk is too hot and the cappuccinos are too foamy.”

And while that may be true for some of the coffee scene in Paris, those statements don’t account for the last five years of new cafés in the city. Upon arrival to my hotel near Gare de l’Est, I remember looking up “specialty coffee near me,” not expecting to stumble upon much. And sure enough, Bonjour Jacob popped up, just a 20-minute walk away.

Taking my first steps through the 10th arrondissement, I felt the exhilaration of culture shock pick me up and spin me around in circles. The streets felt quiet and peaceful, yet somehow lively at the same time. Maybe it was just first-day new-city excitement, but Paris seemed to emanate a certain invigorating energy, regardless of the amount of people on the street at a given time.

Bonjour Jacob’s proximity to a boulangerie felt kismet to me; after grabbing my coffee to go, I sat down at a table outside Du Pain et des Idées with a pan au raisin, took my first sip, and had a moment of disbelief, thinking, “Wow. I can’t believe I’m actually here.” And after that first sip, thinking, “Oh. There’s actually some nice acidity in this coffee.”

As a seasoned occasional solo traveler, I think a lot of other like-minded travelers will agree with me when I say that cafés are not only necessary to energize between activities; they’re also places that are widely socially acceptable to spend time alone. Nobody questions why you’re there without anyone, nor do they feel uncomfortable starting conversations with you (depending on how you do it—think seriously about who you are and how you decide to approach a solo traveler when you do this). I personally use them as a key opportunity to connect with others as well, locals and visitors.

Specialty coffee shops quickly became a large portion of my tourism in Paris. In between trips to the Catacombs, the Louvre, and the Père Lachaise Cemetery, I was also resting and re-charging in an endless amount of specialty cafés. I drank fantastic drip coffee (Yes! An American move, I’ll admit) that was actually dialed in from cafés like Le Peloton, HolyBelly, Yellow Tucan, and a Paris OG—Coutume. So many of them had their own themes, their own charm, and tiny interiors…it was a huge benefit to be alone in these spaces for more reasons than moving on my own agenda.

Reflecting on that trip, I tried to understand how I had been so misled on the coffee scene by other people. I’m sure Parisians would say that the scene has been there all along, and it was out of our own ignorance that we assumed the worst out of Paris.

But I would also like to guess that if the scene is in fact relatively newer, there were much higher standards of quality now than there were in the early 2000s-when specialty coffee roasters were first gaining momentum. New cafés in Paris must have opened with these higher standards in mind. On that note, it must have been second nature to open with light-roast coffees, weighed espresso shots, and thoughtful water sourcing—things that I did NOT do when I was a barista at a “fancy” coffee shop in 2011.

Who knows, maybe in 10 years, everything we know about coffee now will have fallen behind, and so will Parisian cafés. The industry constantly innovates, as all industries do. But for now, all I can say that Paris has been one of my favorite cities for drinking coffee. Not just because of the coffee quality, but because of the way its cafés welcomed me as a solo traveler.

Keeper Coffee isn’t trying to impress with fancy pour overs or housemade syrups and lattes. Sure, you’ll get some Instagrammable foam art thrown into a latte, and the coffee is quietly dialed to perfection. But don’t expect the team to be bragging about it. However, as soon as you walk up to the register, your eyes will likely gravitate towards that bakery’s worth of stunning pastries taunting you while the barista unapologetically looks at you smiling, thinking exactly what you’re thinking—which one are you gonna get?

It’s a good strategy. A lot of coffee shops in Portland don’t put nearly the same amount of concentrated effort that owner Brittany Huff has put into her pastry program at Keeper. And yet, pastries are what translate so much better to a general audience than a single-origin pour over from some obscure region of the world. She’s got an in-house team heading into Keeper at 4 in the morning to begin prepping treats like strawberry rhubarb hand pies, focaccia, and quiches. And in true Portland spirit, half of them are likely gluten-free or vegan.

The effort has paid off, because by the time I arrive in the afternoon, over half the case is sold out. Mornings usually mean lines out the door, and you’re lucky if you can find a place to sit down. Good food, good coffee, and good community—It should be effortless, right? Not quite. It might seem that way now, but behind the curtain, it’s clear that owner Brittany Huff has worked her ass off to make it look the way it does today.

Last summer, I visited several BIPOC- and women-owned coffee shops in Portland for The Takeover, an awesome video series that features some of the most beautiful cafes in the world. Check them out and let me know if you’ve been to any of these places!

Perhaps 36 hours isn’t enough time.
But for me, it’s enough to do this.

About a year ago, I had the bright idea of taking advantage of my Volaris annual pass—the kind that makes you book a flight with almost no notice. Two days before, or three days if you’re lucky. Not much room for hesitation. So I flew in Monday night, landed Tuesday morning. My dear-friend Juanjo, was already there, cameras in hand. If you know anything about Juanjo, you know that man is not only a legend in the Mexican-coffee scene, but in addition he is the brilliance behind the lens for our production company TODOS Media. And so, I knew there weren’t going to be many breaks during my short stay.

By the time I reached the listing, it was 6 a.m. I slept for a few hours. Three, maybe four. Then we started.

In 36 hours, we worked our way through some of the most outstanding coffee shops in the city. And if you know nothing about Guadalajara, here’s what you should know.

First: Guadalajara is Mexico’s second-largest city; its second great urban force.
Second: it’s having a moment.

Not just in coffee, but in bars, food, culture, mezcal. Yes—mezcal, in a place the world still insists on reducing to tequila. There’s something exciting happening here, something balanced. A city expanding creatively without fully losing itself.

I did most of what you can do in 36 hours. I didn’t eat nearly enough to give food its proper due, and that still bothers me. But we got it done nonetheless, and it was pretty special. If you’re deciding where to travel in 2026, I’m telling you plainly: strongly consider Guadalajara.

The Airbnbs are great. The prices are still reasonable. Be smart, be respectful—but unlike larger cities like Mexico City, which can feel over-gentrified at times, Guadalajara still carries a warmth. People are glad you’re there. They want to share; coffee, mezcal, natural wine, food, conversation. There’s a generosity in the culture that hasn’t been priced out yet.

Honestly? Forget 36 hours.
Go for a week. Go for a month. Go and move there.

Okay… maybe that part isn’t so easy.

But as I sit here in Portland, staring down the possibility of snow in the coming weeks, I already know this: if it starts falling, I’m booking another flight south.

I’ll be back soon.

In the meantime, take a look at some of these shops. They’re some of my favorites, and we were lucky enough to capture them so we could share them with you.

Saludos.

-Angel, TODOS Media

Coffee is one of the most consumed beverages in the world. We drink it out of routine, for the taste, for the caffeine, often without giving it much thought.

What draws me to coffee isn’t just the cup itself, but everything behind it: the people, the culture, and the stories it carries. Sometimes those stories begin at origin, sometimes in process, sometimes with the producer, roaster, or barista, and sometimes in the quiet technological advances that shape how a cup ultimately tastes.

Through the entries that follow, I’ll be sharing experiences from cafés around the world, with the hope that they invite you to slow down, brew a cup of your own, or step into the nearest café with a little more intention.

- Juan Jose Sanchez, TODOS Media

As time passes and you fall deeper into coffee, you start to plan around it. Not obsessively, intentionally. The time of day. The type of coffee. The origin. The café. The brewing method.

For me, coffee almost always belongs to the afternoon. After lunch. After the day has settled into itself. Maybe it’s because I’m not a morning person, or maybe because most of my creative work happens at night. Either way, you’ll rarely find me in a café before noon.

It also helps that I spend most of my time in Mexico, where cafés tend to stay open late—often until eight or nine in the evening—unlike much of the U.S.

I plan my coffee the same way some people plan meals, workouts, or weekly rituals. I try not to keep too many beans at home. Freshness matters. If I buy too much, I’ll start making five or six pourovers a day, which—depending on who you ask—is either discipline or obsession. For me, it’s simply passion.

So when my girlfriend Dani and I planned to spend New Year’s Eve near San Antonio, in a small town called New Braunfels, Texas, one question immediately followed:

Where will we have our first coffee of the year?

After visiting a few places nearby, we decided to drive about fifty minutes to one of our favorite cafés in the country: Proud Mary Coffee.

They have two locations in the U.S.—one in Austin and one in Portland. Proud Mary is an Australian company, and when they first opened stateside in Portland back in 2017, they quickly became a reference point for what thoughtful, high-level specialty coffee could look like.

I’ll always have a soft spot for the Portland location—it’s the one I know best—but since we were already in Texas, Austin felt right.

When we arrived, the café was packed. Not surprising. Luckily, we found seats at the counter, which is exactly where I like to be. You can see everything from there: the grinders, the brewers, the rhythm of the baristas at work.

If you love coffee, this place feels a bit like Disneyland.

They don’t offer one or two origins. They offer dozens. Four different options for espresso and long black. Six or more rotating choices for pourovers. Ethiopia, Honduras, Panama, Costa Rica—the menu alone could keep you busy for an hour.

Lately, I’ve been especially drawn to Ethiopian coffees. Tea-like, aromatic, layered. Many of the cups I’ve fallen in love with over the past year came from Heart Coffee Roasters, so when I saw several Ethiopian options on Proud Mary’s menu, I knew exactly where I was headed.

The Red Honey was sold out. My instinct was to play it safe and order the washed—but instead, I stepped outside my comfort zone and chose the natural.

Dani ordered the Ethiopian washed pourover, which felt like the best of both worlds.

My espresso arrived first. Balanced, aromatic, fruit-forward without being overwhelming. Bright acidity, clean finish. Exactly what I hoped for.

Watching Dani’s pourover being made was its own quiet pleasure. Both Proud Mary locations brew using the Origami Dripper, a method that consistently delivers a clean, balanced cup, and happens to look beautiful while doing it.

We sat there for a while, enjoying the coffee, already talking about our next stop; a barbecue joint waiting down the road. But what lingered most wasn’t just the quality of the beans or the equipment.

It was the hospitality.

Anyone who spends time in cafés knows how much this matters. Great coffee can only take you so far. What stays with you is how you’re welcomed, how you’re treated, how the space makes you feel.

Before leaving, I bought my first beans of the year.

Ethiopian, of course.
A natural-process heirloom.

I brewed it today.

Not a bad way to begin a year of coffee.

If you’ve already had a cup that meant something to you this year, I’d love to hear about it.

Thanks for reading.
Salud.

- Juan Jose Sanchez, TODOS Media