At least once a month, someone asks me what it takes to open a coffee shop. Sometimes it’s a guest sitting at the bar. Sometimes it’s a friend who’s dreamed about it for years. Sometimes it’s someone who just left a corporate job and thinks a café sounds like freedom.
I never tell them it’s a bad idea. But I do tell them the truth. And the truth is: I would not recommend it to most people who ask. Not because the industry isn’t worth it — I built Three Sixteen and I’m building a few more locations as of now. But because the gap between what people imagine and what the job actually is can be financially and personally devastating.
Here are the ten things I wish someone had told me more bluntly before I started.
1. You will spend more than you planned — and you need a cushion on top of that
Everyone who has ever opened a café has a version of this story. We estimated $700K to build Three Sixteen. We spent >$1.5M. That’s not a rounding error — that’s a completely different financial reality.
But here’s what most people don’t talk about: even after you’ve opened, the money keeps going out before it starts coming back in. Many first-time owners go in thinking they’ll be profitable within weeks. They won’t be. And when reality hits, they start cutting — cheaper ingredients, fewer staff, lower standards. It looks like smart management. It’s actually the beginning of the end. Guests notice. They stop coming back. Within a year, the place closes.
You need capital to open. You need a separate cushion to survive the first year without making decisions that compromise your product. If your plan only covers the build-out, you are not ready.
2. The margins are worse than you think — and won’t improve until you scale
People hear that a well-run café can operate at 10–15% margin and think that’s the floor. In practice, especially on a first location, that number is often negative. Our first location’s EBITDA is not a number I’m proud of right now. The honest truth: we probably won’t see real profitability until we have multiple locations sharing overhead.
This is the math that most business plans ignore. Rent, labor, cost of goods, equipment maintenance, waste, utilities — all of it hits a single location at full weight. The economics of hospitality only start to work when you can spread fixed costs across more than one place.
If you’re opening one café and expecting it to make you money in year one, recalibrate.
3. The details will bury you — unless you take them seriously from day one
People hear “open a coffee shop” and think: how hard can it be? You buy espresso machines, hire a few baristas, put up a sign. Then they start actually doing it — and discover that “it” is thousands of small decisions, each one with consequences.
We took a long time to open. People laughed at us. “Why is it taking so long? It’s just a café.” But when we finally opened, restaurateurs who came in said it was exceptional for a first location. That doesn’t happen by accident. It happens because you refuse to close your eyes on the details, even when it’s slower and more expensive to get them right.
Most people who fail don’t fail on the big decisions. They fail on the accumulation of small ones they didn’t think mattered.
4. A team is not enough. You need a dream team.
Most café owners hire whoever is willing to show up. They need bodies behind the bar, so they take whoever applies. That’s how you build a mediocre café that’s consistently average and eventually forgettable.
We hired for culture fit, energy, and potential — not just availability. The core team, the people who have been with us from the beginning, are the ones everything else is built on. They’re not just good at making coffee. They’re people who care, who bring warmth to every interaction, who make guests want to come back not just for the flat white but for them.
Your product is only as good as the people delivering it. And in hospitality, the delivery is half the product. Hire slow. Hold a high standard. The right team is not a nice-to-have — it’s the foundation.
5. Consistency is a standard you will chase for years
People tell us our croissants are the best they’ve had. I hear that and I think: they’re not consistent yet. Some mornings they’re perfect. Some mornings they’re not. Most guests don’t notice. I notice. And until we’ve solved for consistency at the level we’re aiming for, we won’t stop working on it.
This is the standard that separates a good café from a great one — and it takes far longer to achieve than most owners expect. We’ve been open over six months and we’re still working on it. Not because we’re failing, but because we actually care.
If you’re not obsessed enough to notice the difference between a good day and a great one — guests will eventually notice for you.
6. You probably won’t get a great location for your first café
Prime locations go to proven operators. If you’re opening your first café, landlords are taking a risk on you — and they know it. We got our current location because it was available, not because it was ideal. Objectively, it’s a 5 out of 10 in terms of foot traffic and visibility.
That means marketing is not optional — it’s survival. If you don’t know how to attract guests, build an audience, create a product people talk about and return to, a weak location will quietly kill you. Most first-time café owners don’t account for this. They assume a good product will find its audience. It won’t — not without help.
Location drives discovery. Marketing drives loyalty. You’ll need both, and in your first location, the margin for error on marketing is close to zero.
7. Equipment will fail — repeatedly, and at the worst times
We’ve been open for just over six months. Our roaster has broken down four times. Not once — four times. Each time, it’s not just an inconvenience. It’s a disruption to the product, to the team, to the schedule, and to the guest experience.
Equipment failure is not an edge case. It’s a recurring operational reality, and you need to be financially and logistically prepared for it. That means vendor relationships, service contracts, contingency plans, and cash reserves.
A café that can’t serve its core product because a machine is down isn’t just losing revenue. It’s losing trust.
8. People don’t change their habits easily — especially for something unremarkable
Your future guests already have a morning routine. They already have a coffee shop. They go there not because it’s exceptional, but because it’s familiar, convenient, and comfortable. To get them to change that routine, you have to give them a genuinely compelling reason.
Most new cafés don’t. They open with something that’s fine — decent coffee, pleasant space, good service. But “fine” doesn’t break habits. If your café isn’t meaningfully better, more interesting, or more memorable than what’s already there, most people will never give it a second try.
The question isn’t “Is my café good?” It’s “Is my café interesting enough to change someone’s morning?” Those are very different bars.
9. The romance burns off fast. The routine stays forever.
A lot of cafés get opened with spare capital and a romantic idea. Someone leaves a corporate job, has a few hundred thousand dollars, and thinks: I’ll open a café. It seems approachable. It seems human-scale. It seems like freedom.
Then they open. And three months in, they’re doing the same thing every single day — the same prep, the same issues, the same conversations, the same grind. The romance is gone. What’s left is a business that demands everything from you and pays you back slowly, if at all.
The people who survive in this industry are not the ones who loved the idea of a café. They’re the ones who love the work itself — the craft, the team, the guest relationship, the obsessive pursuit of getting it right. That’s a different kind of motivation, and it’s the only one that lasts.
10. There are no guarantees — and even doing everything right might not be enough
We’re building Three Sixteen for the long term. That’s not just a phrase — it’s the actual strategy. We’re willing to work on this brand for years before it fully works for us. We’re investing in quality, in team, in locations, in systems, knowing that the return is not immediate.
But I’ll be honest: there are no guarantees. Lockdowns happen. Recessions happen. A competitor opens next door. A key team member leaves. A landlord doesn’t renew. Any of these things can end a café that was doing everything right.
We don’t talk about this enough in entrepreneurship — that you can be disciplined, prepared, and serious, and still face circumstances outside your control. What you can control is how you build, how you respond, and whether you’re in it for a moment or for the long run. We’re in it for the long run.
So Why Did I Do It Anyway?
Because I believed — and still believe — that all of the above is manageable if you go in with the right preparation, the right capital, the right reasons, and the strong vision behind it.
Not “I love coffee.” Not “I want to be my own boss.” Those are starting points, not foundations. The real question is whether you can build systems, lead people, manage money, and stay committed to a standard when no one is watching — for years, not months.
Three Sixteen exists because we took the hard version of every decision. We didn’t cut corners on the build. We didn’t hire fast and hope for the best. We didn’t open until we were close to ready. And we’re still learning.
If you’ve read this list and your reaction is “I still want to do it” — that’s the right reaction. Just go in with your eyes open.
