Three classes · small rooms · fixed prices
Priced like a menu, not a negotiation. Every session runs at the studio bar, every seat count is real, and every class ends with you tasting the difference you just learned to make. Pick your poster, grab a seat.
Dose, grind, time, taste — the whole loop
One morning on the machine until pulling a shot stops being a ritual you copy and starts being a recipe you understand. You dial in three coffees from scratch, break a few shots on purpose, and learn what each mistake tastes like.
Bring nothing. The bar, the beans and the scales are all set.
Grab a seat →
Milk chemistry first, wrist flicks second
An evening of steaming and pouring on repeat. We fix your foam before we touch your pour — texture, temperature, and how to split a pitcher — then it is hearts and tulips until your arm is tired and the cups look intentional.
Wear something you can splash milk on. You will.
Grab a seat →
Slurp loudly, take notes, argue kindly
A Sunday-morning table of eight coffees tasted blind, the way roasters do it. You leave with a vocabulary for what you like — not borrowed tasting notes, but words you picked because you tasted the thing yourself.
Come with an empty stomach and no perfume. Both matter.
Grab a seat →Team intensives run on your machine, on your beans, at your bar — dialing recipes, tightening the morning routine, and leaving your staff a playbook they actually use. Dates and pricing by arrangement; tell me about the room and I will bring the plan.