For many, the day hasn’t properly started until they’ve had their daily dose of caffeine. At least three or four times a week, you can find me perched on a cafe bench — leaving a dotted trail of $7 coffee transactions across Southern California’s finest cafes without a care in the world. A specialty coffee averages $6.47 in LA and $6.73 in San Diego. Here in Orange County, the average sits somewhere in between.

Whether fiscally responsible or not, folks are still showing up. In my age group, 64% of 25-to-39-year-olds drank specialty coffee in the past week, more than any other age group. Specialty consumption is up 9.4% nationally since 2022. We’re not drinking less coffee, but we are becoming more selective about which cafes deserve the visit.

Not all of us are coffee aficionados, but some are. Some people want a place to hang out for a few hours. Some want the branded cup that photographs perfectly on Instagram. 62% of Millennials say they’ll pay $7 for a daily coffee because it brings them joy. We all might be demanding something different, but underneath we’re all asking the same question: is this place worth it?

The answer is that cafes aren’t all selling the same thing. Some sell the drink. Some sell the room. Some sell the time. Some just sell convenience. Consumers today have seemingly less time (and money) for taking a chance, so I argue that cafes should decide a singular path and stick to it.

Most new cafes won’t survive five years. Not because the coffee was bad. Because they never figured out which experience they were selling.

There are four experiences a cafe can sell. Three earn the $7. The fourth scrounges for whatever’s left.

The Expertise

Sell the drink.

Some cafes sell the best version of the coffee itself. You may not go every day, but you go when you want something properly made. These are the ones that remind you what great is supposed to taste like.

Cafes like MoonGoat and Commons Cafe source seriously and speak to intentional craftsmanship. White Sparrow in Old Town Tustin pays close attention to its unique offerings, like the yuzu tonic.

Craft is the purest way to defend the 8-9 dollar drink, but it asks the most of the operator. The staff has to be trained with little guessing and the product has to be consistent. The customer has to trust it’s the real deal every time.

The World

Sell the worldview.

You’re selling a worldview expressed through the full branded experience. The design of the space, the music, the cups, the menu, everything fits inside a built vision.

La La Land Kind Cafe gets every detail right. Playful, leaning into a younger crowd: the store design, the yellow cups, the branded language, even the menu. It’s all so recognizable you can read it in a single Instagram post.

You see the same approach in cafes built as brand extensions. Cafe Collegium at South Coast Plaza, born from the Collegium shoe store, carries its nod to car culture. Ralph’s Coffee turns its iconic prep aesthetic into a place you can sit inside. Different brands using the same playbook.

This is the toughest lane to commit to. Any inconsistency and the whole world falls apart. But when it holds, people keep coming back, and they bring friends.

The Third Place

Sell the time.

Some cafes sell the room and the hours you spend in it.

Going there says I value belonging.

Hidden House Coffee lives in a converted bungalow that says stay awhile. Kei Coffee House makes room for students to study for hours. Neat Coffee runs pop-ups and partners with local vendors, giving regulars new reasons to come back.

These cafes can become staples of the neighborhood. This is what people call community, but it has to be felt through and through. The seating matters. The hours matter. The outlets are intentionally placed. The staff knows your name. A cafe becomes the third place when it creates a ritual people repeat. It works when the room becomes part of someone’s week.

The Middle

Sell convenience.

This is the most dangerous place to be. The middle can only survive on convenience. A cafe near an office, school, or apartment building can do business because it’s nearby. But convenience is not the same as desire. There’s no story worth telling about why you drove past two other cafes to visit this one. It’s just kinda… there.

Orange County is less forgiving because most of us drive. In a walkable city, the middle catches enough foot traffic to stay open. Here, the location has to be justified before you leave the driveway.

Think about Starbucks. I stopped going there years ago. And I used to go A LOT.

For most of the last decade, they didn’t stop being convenient. They still had the app, the rewards, and the drive-thrus that built the habit. But it became hard to describe what they were emotionally. No longer seen as experts in the space. Not a worldview worth opting into. Not really a place you wanted to sit and stay anymore.

In September 2024, new CEO Brian Niccol used his first open letter to say the quiet part out loud: Starbucks had “drifted from our core.” The Back to Starbucks push is a move toward the third place. Ceramic mugs. Names on cups. More attention on baristas. A clear distinction between grab-and-go and stay-a-while.

In January 2026, Starbucks reported its first quarter of transaction growth in over two years.

Even the biggest coffee company in the world seems to understand that the middle just doesn’t work.

We need more cafes.

Not just any cafe but the ones that deliver on a worthwhile experience.

We’ll happily pay for the premium. What we rebel against is the ordinary, the unremarkable, the “just fine.” Fine doesn’t say anything about us. Fine doesn’t create a routine. Fine doesn’t justify the drive.

The seven dollars is not about how much you’re willing to spend at a cafe. It’s a small vote for the cafes with a strong point of view on an experience worth selling. Those are the ones we’d like to see stick around.

In Orange County, where almost everything asks you to get in the car first, being clear on what a cafe sells is the reason you go.