I get asked this question about 10 to 20 times a day: “How did you come up with the idea for Fenster?”
Now, if we’re being serious, you’d probably have to dive deep into anatomy and psychology to figure out how people come up with ideas in general. But we both know what this question is really about. So make yourself comfortable—I’ll try to explain.
First off, the foundation for this idea was built on everything I’d lived and done up to that point. I’ve talked about that a bit in earlier stories. But as for the exact format of Fenster—why it looks and works the way it does—let me break it down.
One day, I started asking myself a pretty simple-sounding question: Can you actually make money selling just coffee? Turns out, the answer isn’t simple at all.
In Vienna, a cup of coffee costs around 3 euros on average. That’s your typical check for a customer—whether it’s an espresso, cappuccino, latte, or macchiato. Compare that to the 7 to 10 euros a café brings in per customer when they sell pastries, sandwiches, and other snacks.
To match that kind of daily revenue just with coffee, you’d need 3 to 4 times as many customers. And that’s the catch—you’re not going to get them. Why? Because people expect snacks. If you don’t have them, they won’t come.
I saw it myself at Kaffee von Sascha. The first thing out of every customer’s mouth was, “Do you have croissants?” “Got pastries?” “Any sandwiches?” The answer was always no—and it always will be. So they’d leave. And not come back. Welcome to the real world: you’re losing money.
Let’s say someone does come in. They order an espresso for 2 euros, open their laptop, and camp out for two hours. Or two friends order macchiatos and chat for three. Tiny checks, but they’re taking up space—and you’re paying rent for that space.
And it’s not just rent. If you have a 20, 30, even 100 square meter café, you’re paying to keep it lit. You’re cleaning it every day. You’re either hiring someone to do that or spending your own time. Every. Single. Day.
Add in a restroom. You need one. Its size depends on the café’s size and how many people you can seat. That means more build-out costs, more maintenance, more daily deep cleans.
Same goes for a patio: furniture, maintenance, sun and rain protection, city permits, yearly fees—you name it.
Don’t forget the dishwashing station: soap, cups, plates, napkins.
And staff. The bigger your place, the more people you need. Baristas, cashiers, servers, cleaners. If one person’s doing everything, it’s going to be chaos—slow prep, slow service, and bad vibes all around.
Now subtract VAT. And every other overhead cost.
And you’re supposed to make all this work with a 3 euro average check?
Some of you still think a place like that could thrive selling just coffee? I don’t.
So after breaking everything down, I came to one clear conclusion: you can make amazing, high-quality coffee and actually turn a profit—but only if it’s to-go. That’s it.
All you need is a space big enough to hold your equipment and a tiny storage area. No seating, no restrooms, no extra square meters bleeding cash. And most importantly—no need for extra staff. That’s literally the only way it makes sense to earn a living selling nothing but coffee.
Once I figured that out, I started digging into the details—designing a concept in my head that would be all about speed and efficiency without ever compromising the quality of the coffee.
That idea eventually became the complete vision for a coffee shop I would run myself, focused solely on top-tier, to-go coffee. The only thing left was to make it real.
But let’s be honest—just having a technical idea for how it works isn’t enough. You’ve got to give it meaning. Make it interesting for people. And that part? That’s what I’ll tell you in the next chapter.
As for now—I’m off to grab a coffee 🙂
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