Few people I know take the daily ritual of coffee as spiritually as Merv. And if you find yourself within his forcefield, don’t be surprised to have a cup of black specialty coffee thrust your way with a nonchalant “have a taste of this”, followed seamlessly by some tale of football defence tactics; a trip to Bloem in the bad old days or the best pastries just north of Grunau. Merv was my first and only customer for about 6 months. While I knew next to nothing about coffee roasting and was learning on the fly, Merv religiously swanned in after dropping his daughter at school, and for sometimes a few hours kept me company and told me how good it was. We still remember a single 1kg roast of Ethiopian Yirgacheffe that I must have nailed by error. And still he comes, every day virtually, while I try to recreate that experience. And when I do, Merv has what can only be described as coffee orgasm.