Finding the Rhythm of the Season

There’s a rhythm you get used to when you run a café.

Wednesdays are usually full-on.  People know we’re back open and ready. Thursdays and Fridays? A little quieter, which honestly, I’ve come to love. They give me a bit of breathing space, time to restock the fridge, prep the cakes, plan the specials board and brace for the weekend madness.

Saturdays and Sundays? That’s when it all kicks off. They’ve always been the big ones. You hit the ground running and don’t stop until the last coffee is poured and the last crumb is cleared.

But then… the summer holidays arrive.
And suddenly, the whole week feels like a weekend.

The Summer Shift: Every Day Feels Like the Weekend

Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays—they’re no longer your “get ahead” days. They’re queue-at-the-hatch-before-we-open days. The coffee machine never rests. The cake counter empties faster than we can refill it. The new staff are straight into the deep end (baptism by brownie, really).

And just when you think it’s peaked—Saturday and Sunday arrive.
Off. The. Scale. Busy.

Take yesterday morning, for example.

It started with the Park Runners—about 150 of them—flooding in after their run, all craving the ultimate bap menu, bread and butter pudding, coffee, and cake. It's a joyful kind of chaos, but there’s no easing into it. No gentle warm-up. Because just as we were catching our breath, in came a massive group of cyclists, tagging straight onto the end of the queue. No pause, no breather. Just a full-on stream of Lycra following closely behind the sportswear. I’d glance up from my section in the kitchen and the only clue that time was passing was the shift in gear—literally. Running shoes had been replaced by cleats and padded shorts.

The Legend of the Bread and Butter Pudding

It’s wild, unpredictable, and honestly a bit exhausting, but in the best kind of way. There’s something about summer energy that’s infectious. Kids with ice creams melting faster than they can eat them, families asking what  'legendary bread and butter pudding' even is, regulars bringing their mates from out of town to show them what all the fuss is about.

And yes...let’s talk about that pudding.

Our bread and butter pudding has become a bit of a legend.
Soft, custardy layers. A brûléed top that crunches as you crack your spoon through. Plump raisins, a buttery croissant finish, and just the right ratio of creaminess to bite. People drive from hours away just to get a slice. Some call ahead to reserve one (and I don't blame them). One lovely customer last week described it as "a comforting hug disguised as dessert."

Just this morning, my lovely new barista turned to me and said,

“I’ve never seen a reaction like this to a bread and butter pudding.”

He was genuinely amazed. It wasn’t just one person, or even a few—it was customer after customer, eyes lighting up, asking for it, raving about it, telling their friends to come back for it.

And he asked, “Why is that? What makes this pudding so special?”

It’s a good question. And the truth is, this isn’t your standard, soggy-bottomed school dinner traybake. This pudding has history. It’s been through years of refinement, tarting back when I was a trainee patisserie chef, learning the magic of custards and slow bakes. I’ve made it in all sorts of kitchens, from high-end restaurants to wood-fired ovens to our little café, and each version has taught me something. It’s evolved in layers...literally.

Now it’s become something people talk about like it’s a person.

"Is she still on today?"
"Have you got that pudding?"
"You haven’t sold out already, have you?"

Honestly? I love it.

And yes, before you ask, the recipe is under lock and key for now. Some things are just too sacred to give away in a blog. But I might just be working on something special for those who want to learn how to make it themselves. Watch this space...

The Incredible Summer Team

In the meantime, we’re embracing the summer whirlwind.
The new team are getting stuck in (they’re amazing). The hatch is buzzing. And I’m baking like there’s no tomorrow, which, in café time, there basically isn’t.

What’s slightly bittersweet, though, is that all of these incredible people are only with us for the summer. By the time autumn rolls in, they’ll be heading back to uni or school, and I’ll be trying (again!) to find new, permanent staff.

Turns out, it’s harder than ever to find people who genuinely love food and coffee, who care about the details, and who can appreciate a proper cake. Where are they all hiding?

That said, I’m so grateful for the team I’ve got right now. Every single one of them has come in eager to learn, ready to work hard, lovely to the customers, and full of curiosity about what we serve and why we make it the way we do. They’re a joy to work with, and really, what more could you ask?

Come Visit!

If you’re planning to visit, come early, bring your appetite, and maybe don’t leave without a pudding. We can’t promise it’ll be there later.

Because in summer?
Every day is a Saturday.