Coffee & The Quiet Art of Hospitality
Coffee & The Quiet Art of Hospitality
In the hotel world, there are a few fundamentals that every guest is promised, regardless of price point.
Safety. I can feel safe.
Sleep. I will rest well.
Cleanliness. The room is clean and sanitized.
These fundamentals are always expected. Only after they are met do design, story, service, and amenities begin to matter. And among those amenities, coffee may be the most universal. It is also, more often than not, the most disappointing.
At Nomada, all of our hotels are vintage properties with fewer than forty rooms. Coupled with moderate room rates, we learned early on that we can’t compete with larger hotels at their game. Instead, we focus on creating intimate, meaningful experiences and getting the details right.
Over the years, I’ve tried our coffee more times than I can count; during morning meetings, property audits, or simply passing through. Sometimes it’s good. Sometimes it isn’t.
When we opened Granada Hotel & Bistro twelve years ago, coffee was a focus from the start. We served Equator Coffee alongside a European-style morning offering in the upstairs lounge: cheese, charcuterie, baguettes, and butter. Simple. Thoughtful. Included as part of the stay.
I obsessed over the details—sourcing the right coffee urns and serve ware, designing custom labels, and hunting down the right display items and vessels. We subscribed to daily delivery of the San Luis Obispo Tribune, New York Times, and Los Angeles Times, and created a jazz and classical playlist, played softly to usher in the morning.
I imagined guests emerging, still in their Granada-branded robes, lingering on the terrace with coffee, newspapers, and conversation. For weeks, I showed up every morning to see if that vision would come to life.
Occasionally, it did.
But more often, it didn’t.
“Why don’t you have croissants?”
“Where are the eggs?”
“I’m not eating salami for breakfast.”
“This coffee is cold.”
“It’s too weak.”
“It’s too strong.”
Days would pass without a single newspaper being touched. Guests rarely stayed long enough to hear a full song. Most were rushing into the day ahead, grabbing something to go.
That was my first real education in how difficult hospitality operations can be. Hospitality isn’t just about creating something thoughtful—it’s about execution, consistency, and understanding how guests actually move through a space.
Over the years, we tried everything: a breakfast café (which ultimately closed), homemade banana bread, yogurt and granola, breakfast markets, and countless coffee brands—Nespresso, Equator, Spearhead, Cacti, Verve, Joebella.
What never changed was my belief that the morning experience matters deeply, and our desire to get it right. Our guests deserve great coffee.
Earlier this year, a friend in the coffee world suggested we create our own blend- one we could control, standardize, and tell a story around. He offered to roast it weekly, create a staff training program, and maintain quality, as he does for his own cafés.
We spent months cupping beans from around the world—Nicaragua, Ethiopia, Colombia, Brazil. Washed, natural, peaberry, arabica. I read about coffee culture and its history, learned how to taste properly, and explored different brewing methods. He brought in his coffee expert to help us develop a blend that could be ethically sourced and roasted with consistency and integrity.
His team then visited every property, installed reverse-osmosis water systems, and standardized our equipment to eliminate variability. He even sourced a Keurig-compatible pod system so early-rising guests could enjoy the same quality coffee in their rooms, before the rest of the world wakes up.
Our training now goes beyond preparation—it explains the why behind the blend. And we continue to design the physical experience: the vessels, sugars, milks, layout, and flow.
When it’s finished, it will be simple. It will be thoughtful. And it will be good.
It has been a long, winding road to arrive at something so basic: a great cup of coffee. But hospitality, at its best, is an endless pursuit of getting the details right.
