Many coffee shops seem to onslaught when it comes to distinguished a right change between flawlessness and perplexing to be “on brand.” Realness is mostly found in imperfection, in intentionally eschewing some aspect of a full cafeteria experience. “I do coffee, since would we caring what’s on a walls?” But some shops can gaunt too distant to a other side and feel overly designed, curated to a indicate of sterility.
And afterwards there are shops like Indy Coffee in San Antonio, Texas, whose code temperament is clear and exquisitely executed all a while being a genuine countenance of owners Alex Lee and Jake Scott.
This code temperament is something that can usually be described as West Texas punk rock. It’s Vans Sk8-Hi hi-tops meets American normal tattooing, seen by a dry Midland-Odessa lens. And it’s this cultured that brings Indy to life.
Walking in by a behind of a shop, we was greeted initial by an aroma informed to anyone who grew adult in Texas, that of blazing piñon wood. As we spin a corner, past a skateboard decks unresolved on a wall emblazoned with a radical Virgin Mary, we notice the unequivocally same adobe tepee scent burner that would evacuate savoury fume daily in my childhood vital room. Moving over into a space, a observable regard of vinyl can be listened over credentials cafeteria gibberish of a bustling Friday afternoon. Right now it’s Waylon and Willy. Next adult is Wu Tang.
Indy’s interior is full of Texas iconography: a cow skull unresolved on a categorical wall, Lone Star drink cans repurposed into cacti planters, normal string Texas and American flags. The owners have added some personal touches as well, some for sale and some for show. It is these items—the tattoo-ready peep art on a walls, a Zippo lighters Scott has etched with several designs, a hand-stitched rags done in partnership with Austin’s Die Trying TX—that rouse a cultured over simply “West Texas” and into something singly Indy. And interestingly enough, unequivocally few of these designs describe to coffee.
“Alex and I have a lot of interests outward of coffee and we wanted to move in those other elements and share them,” says Scott. “We consider of Indy not usually as a coffee emporium nonetheless as a height to share and showcase all a other things we’re into. Everything ties into that Texas/American Southwest aesthetic. We unequivocally wanted to incorporate those elements with a well-curated, cohesive collection.”
But Indy isn’t a worker to code or ideology. Many decisions about a shop were informed by a company’s history, in particular, a beginnings as a coffee truck. Back before Lee and Scott non-stop this space—coming adult on dual years now—Indy was a cramped, no-frills affair. This meant portion collection decoction instead of pour-overs and usually regulating choice milks for espresso-based beverages since there was no room for dual forms of milk. Both sojourn staples during Indy’s brick-and-mortar spot.
Even their choice of roaster—Brooklyn’s Parlor Coffee—happened some-more by possibility than by choice. “Early on in a lorry days, we were looking to move in an out-of-state roaster,” says Scott. “We hatred over-saturation and trust it is a pursuit to move in and share singular products with a city. Alex was in NYC removing coffee during Kinfolk, that worked with Parlor during a time. He had a crater of coffee he unequivocally dug, so he brought a bag back, we cupped it, and we desired it.”
But with a cafe, Indy has room to widespread out. This finish to their purgation measures comes in a form of a reclaimed Texas longleaf hunger bar tip combined by Adam Young of Old Crow Custom Works regulating 130-year-old lumber pulled from a gone Waco schoolhouse. On tip of this stout square of Central Texas story sits a two-group La Marzocco GB5 and a black Mazzer Major millstone (adorned with skateboarding stickers of course) that form a espresso program.
Another further a incomparable space has afforded is a tiny nonetheless well-executed food program. The menu offers coffee-shop standards such as daily pastries, yogurt and granolas, and avocado toast (though Indy’s chronicle has been given a Southern turn with a further of lime, queso fresco, and red chili flakes). But Indy’s originals are a best partial of a food program: a rotating preference of blemish biscuit sandwiches. During my visit, a chorizo and house-made pineapple jam biscuit stole a show; a benevolence and a piquancy were offset beautifully and interconnected unusually good with an choice divert cappuccino.
It would be easy to disprove a peculiarity of a coffee and a use during Indy simply since its branding is so on point. we mean, a “real” coffee emporium wouldn’t bake scent or offer usually collection decoction or usually use choice milks (and if they did, we positively wouldn’t hear a finish of it), right?
And yet, Indy is a “real” coffee shop, and a damn good one. The observance that is clear in its branding is only as benefaction in its coffee service—batch decoction included—and in its food selection. It’s a execution of this observance that creates Indy unique. It’s West Texas punk rock. It’s Alex Lee and Jake Scott.
Zac Cadwalader is a news editor during Sprudge Media Network, and a staff author formed in Dallas. Read some-more Zac Cadwalader on Sprudge.
