Our story
Three cups
to family
A neighbourhood café built on an old saying: the first cup you're a stranger, the second a friend, the third you're family.
Hello from Marco
“I wanted a place where the barista knows your name by your second visit, and where nobody is ever in a hurry to see you leave.”
The Third Cup opened in 2019 in a former flower shop on a quiet corner of Brooklyn. There was one espresso machine, four stools and a lot of optimism. What kept us going wasn't the coffee, although we're proud of it. It was the regulars who came back every morning and brought their friends.
Marco Ruiz · Founder
The saying
Stranger, friend,
then family
01
The first cup
You walk in a stranger. We learn your name, and how you take it.
02
The second cup
You come back a friend. Your usual is on the bar before you ask.
03
The third cup
Now you're family. Pull up a chair and stay as long as you like.
Since 2019
How we
got here
2019
Four stools and a borrowed grinder
We opened in a former flower shop with one espresso machine, four stools and a grinder on loan from a friend.
2020
Coffee through the window
When the doors had to close, we served through the front window. Regulars kept coming, and so did their neighbours.
2021
Our own roaster
A small drum roaster moved in next door, so every bag we sell has been roasted within a few days of reaching your cup.
2023
The bakery opens
Kai joined, the ovens went in and the croissants started selling out by eleven on Saturdays.
2025
Something on every week
Vinyl nights, open mic, cupping classes and a monthly throwdown turned the café into the neighbourhood's living room.
Sourcing
From the farm
to your cup
Guji, Ethiopia
A co-op of smallholder farmers
Peach, jasmine, bergamot
Huila, Colombia
Three generations of one family
Red apple, panela, cocoa
Huehuetenango, Guatemala
A single hillside farm at 1,900m
Plum, caramel, walnut
What we believe
Three house
rules
01
Know the farm
We buy from a handful of farms we know by name and pay well above market price for the best lots.
02
Take the time
Seventy-two hours for a croissant, eighteen for cold brew. Some things are worth waiting for.
03
Save a seat
Refills are on the house if you're staying in. A café is only as good as the people in it.
Your turn
Pull up
a chair
The first cup's on us to make. Come and see what the third one feels like.