How this started

Before we got married, my wife and I were in a long-distance relationship. She was living in Winnipeg, and I was living two hours away near Brandon, MB. I visited her every weekend, and we would go for walks, and picnics, and brunch dates. Coffee was always a part of us, particularly a salted caramel latte from our favourite brunch stop, Stella's.

After my wife and I got married, she came to live with me near Brandon. It was not an easy transition, leaving all her friends in the city for a quiet rural life. Our neighbourhood wasn't walkable. And worst of all… no Stella's. We spent weeks driving around looking for something like their salted caramel latte, but all we found were fast-food coffees or overpriced coffee drinks.

Eventually we'd had enough. We could keep buying two ten-dollar coffees a day (at least), or we could buy an espresso machine for a few hundred and do it ourselves. We did our research and knew exactly which one to buy: a De'Longhi Dedica. When it arrived, I set out to make her that latte she craved. We were newlyweds, and her happiness became my obsession, but making her the perfect coffee drink turned out to be a deeper rabbit hole than either of us anticipated. I modified the machine, added parts that made the espresso better, learned the drinks, and practised until they were just right.

My parents, after hearing me drone on about my new obsession, bought me a roaster and a variety pack of green beans for my birthday. Just a simple machine without any kind of brand or label, like a cast-iron pan with a spinning blade. My first roast wasn't very good, but I was shocked when it still tasted better than anything I'd bought from the grocery store. That moment in 2021 was a turning point for me: an amateur fresh roast was better than a professional one that had sat on a shelf for six months. Freshness wasn't just a marketing buzzword for coffee. It was the whole point.

In 2022 we moved to Edmonton, and my obsession followed and deepened. New brew methods. A better roaster, then a better one again. Somewhere along the line, fresh-roasted coffee stopped being something I did just for us, and became something I want to share with anyone who wants to taste the difference.

Why "At Dawn"

I've always been up before the sun. It started for work, but now I do it for one simple moment. It's that small stretch of morning before life takes over. It's that moment when I lift the mug and the smell of coffee first reaches my nose. It's fleeting, but it holds back the day's obligations one sip at a time. The calm before the storm. "At Dawn" is for that moment, and I hope that this coffee brings you the same.

What roasted to order means here

Coffee doesn't really go "bad." It just fades. Coffee is in its prime between 7 and 21 days after roasting. What you find on grocery shelves has a best-before date, almost never a roasted-on date. By the time it reaches your cup, months have gone by.

I only roast after you order. Never before. Your bag (and it is yours; I roast it just for you) is roasted and delivered before its prime window, not months after. I stamp each bag with the roasted-on date and deliver it myself, so you know it hasn't gone stale while on its way.

The beans, and the price

I buy specialty-grade, single-origin coffee from Canadian distributors, but I don't just choose beans based on quality. Price is equally important. A cup of coffee should never break the bank. I think specialty coffee can be excellent AND accessible. At $20 for 340 g, you get about 19 cups. Call it a dollar a cup. That's still cheaper than your favourite fast-food drive-through.