It started with one bad wedding coffee.
Sec 17, December 2023. Manan was at a friend’s wedding. The coffee, on a freezing Chandigarh night, was instant. Lukewarm. Powdered milk. He went home, set up an espresso machine on a folding table, and three months later he was pouring at his own cousin’s reception.
The Manan version.
Manan didn’t want a cafe. He’d worked in one, briefly, in Bangalore — long hours, thin margins, nothing personal. What he wanted was the coffee to be the experience: hand-poured, beginner-friendly, warm enough that a Punjabi uncle who hates espresso would still try a cortado.
So Grindmine is the opposite of a cafe. The bar travels. The barista is always Manan. The menu changes per event. The cup is always the same Ikkis-roasted bean. Two years in, the apron’s the same tan leather it started as — a little more scarred.
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