Table Four
There are cafés where people come in, order something, and leave. And there are others where things happen.
A conversation that runs longer than expected. Someone reading by the window. A song that, for a second, makes everyone look up at the same time. The sound of the grinder mixed with plates, steam and voices in different languages. The small choreographies of any given morning.
NUWANDA looks a lot like that.
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We opened in Extramurs seven months ago, after spending years behind a small counter elsewhere in Valencia. That was DOCTA. A neighborhood take-away where we learned that a café can take up very little space and still become part of a lot of people's routines. We're deeply fond of it. It was our first experience, our first coffees in Spain. What happened there still happens, and it remains, in many ways, where everything began.
NUWANDA was born with another rhythm. Slower. Longer. More for staying.
Not for sitting four hours with a laptop and a bottle of water, but for an actual pause. A coffee with no eye on the clock. A late breakfast. A glass of wine before heading home. A table where nobody hurries anything.
The name speaks to those who know. I decide who I am. That's enough.
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Behind the bar, roasters from different European cities rotate through. This month there's coffee from Rebeldes in Valencia, DAK in Amsterdam, The Barn in Berlin, Foundation in Poland, Three Marks in Barcelona and Ineffable in Seville. Rebeldes has been with us since the first day — our house coffee. The rest come in each month: some pass through once, others come back when we ask for them again, and all of them leave something behind. A way of roasting. A conversation. A gesture that stays.
A café can be many things. Most of the time, it's a map.
A few weeks ago we were included among the hundred best coffee shops in Spain, and we're now in the public vote for the Europe's 100. It's fair to mention it. But the things that matter tend to happen far from any ranking. They happen on ordinary days. At nine in the morning, when the first ray of sun comes through the window. When someone comes back for the third time in the same week and no longer needs to look at the menu. When the smell of fresh-ground coffee meets the cinnamon of rolls coming out of the oven. When Szabi, without looking up, sets a V60 going at the pace it takes, and nobody minds how long it lasts.
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Table Four is here to write about all of that. The people who come in. The small decisions a place makes when it picks a chair, a record, a cup. The cities with a scene of their own. The producers on the other side of the bean. What happens in Extramurs at nine. Conversations overheard while we set up a batch brew. Other places, in other cities, where we'd happily spend an afternoon.
Sometimes we'll write. Sometimes, someone else will.
The only thing we promise is not to publish anything just because.
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By the way. Table four exists. It's the one facing the bar. It has no power outlet. And that's probably one of the reasons we like it so much.
Javier and Diego
NUWANDA, Valencia
Javier y Diego
