The Cafe Built From Notes Taken in Other Countries

A green wall. A bonsai tree. A cup of coffee that was still on a Colombian farm ten days ago.

This is what Andrew Underwood and Annabel Figueroa have been sketching in notebooks for years, in cafes across Chile, Japan, Northern Europe, and everywhere else their travels took them. Not business plans. Notes. What the light did. How the chairs felt. Whether the space made them want to stay or leave.

Now they are building it. Zen Cafe opens this autumn in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, at 3 W. Morton St. The couple had been approached about the location for their other business, Donerds Donuts, but the idea for something else had been waiting longer.

Andrew Underwood

My wife and I have imagined the perfect cafe, so creating a space that we'd like to hang out in and drink the best possible coffee is exciting.

The Philosophy of Staying

The design language is Japandi, a blend of Japanese minimalism and Northern European warmth. Green tones. Plants. Bonsai trees. What Underwood calls a very clean, relaxing space.

This is not decoration for its own sake. The aesthetic serves a function: to slow people down. The same philosophy is emerging in Sofia's specialty coffee scene, where cafes like Fabrika Daga and Chucky's design for the same thing, spaces where the furniture, the light, and the menu all say: you can stay. The movement is not American or European or Bulgarian. It is a response to the same pressure, the same need for a room that does not rush you.

Ten Days, Not Six Months

The coffee will come from Devoción, a Brooklyn-based roaster working exclusively with Colombian farms. The number that matters: ten days from farm to cup.

Andrew Underwood

All the coffee comes from Colombia. It's farm to cup in as little as 10 days, which is unheard of in the coffee world. A lot of times, coffee is at least 180 days out from the farm.

This is not a marketing claim. It is a structural choice about what coffee can taste like when it arrives fresh. The longer beans sit in transit, the more they lose the volatile compounds that carry origin character, the notes that make one farm's harvest distinct from another's.

The logic is identical across continents. Speed is not about efficiency. It is about what survives the journey.

Ritual Objects

The menu extends the same intentionality. High-grade matcha sourced directly from Japan through ARTEAO, in flavours that suggest someone actually thought about them: ube, salted caramel, black sesame, tiramisu, berry.

Japanese milk bread from Saray Bakery, softer and sweeter than standard bread, used to make Tamago Sando, the Japanese egg salad sandwich. Croissant sandwiches. Irish soda bread scones. Sourdough cookies.

These are not menu items. They are ritual objects, things chosen because they belong in the space the founders imagined. The matcha is not there because matcha is trending. It is there because Figueroa, who is from Chile, and Underwood, who is from New Jersey, drank it somewhere and wrote it down.

What the Notes Were For

Andrew Underwood

Everywhere we go, our first stop is always a cafe. We take notes on every cafe we go to, what we like, what we don't like. This cafe is a combination of all our favorite things.

This is the part that matters. Zen Cafe is not a business that happens to serve coffee. It is a space designed by people who have spent years sitting in spaces, noticing what they needed, and deciding to build it.

The opening date is still undetermined, sometime this autumn. But the real question is not when it opens. It is whether the model, the intentional space, the ten-day coffee, the notes taken in other countries, can be replicated in other cities that need the same thing.