Prices printed on the bag
What we paid the exporter, per kilo, on every label. If it looks low, ask us why — we will tell you.
Mill Lane, since 2014
We are four people and one 1962 Probat. That limits how much coffee we can roast in a week, which turns out to be the whole point: everything we sell was tasted, profiled and bagged by someone whose name is on the door.

How we got here
There was no plan. There was a bike shop with a spare corner and a sample roaster nobody was using.
“If I cannot taste every batch that leaves the door, we are roasting too much.”
2014
Marta started roasting 200 g at a time in the back of a bike shop, selling bags to whoever came in for a tube patch. Forty bags in the first month, all of them Ethiopian.
2017
A 1962 twelve-kilo drum came out of a closing bakery in Trieste, travelled a thousand miles on a flatbed, and has been running on Mill Lane ever since. It is louder than it needs to be.
2021
Two trips a year, the same six exporters. We publish what we paid per kilo on the back of every bag — usually two to three times the commodity price.
Today
Eight coffees on the shelf at a time, roasted on Thursdays and posted on Fridays. Small enough that Marta still profiles every batch by hand.
What we hold to
What we paid the exporter, per kilo, on every label. If it looks low, ask us why — we will tell you.
We roast against orders, not forecasts. Nothing leaves here older than a day off the drum.
A small range we actually taste every month, rather than forty bags nobody has cupped since spring.
Come and taste
Bring a cup, ask for whatever is on the cupping table. Thursdays you will hear the drum through the wall — that is roast day, and the best time to come.
Order online instead