Making the city better, one cup at a time

A wave of small cafes have opened in Nishi-Ogikubo since the COVID pandemic. With only six seats up a narrow wooden staircase, Palm Park Café in Nishiogi is the smallest of the small. Some of these places cater to the “work from home” crowd while others, like Palm Park Café, are more of a quiet third space to escape a busy life altogether. Palm Park’s owner, Kamijo Noriko represents this new wave of café owners motivated by a mix of personal and social ideals as well as a shared love of the human-scale spaces around Nishiogi. Often escapees from the alienation of corporate lifestyles, owners create cafes as a material response to personal dilemmas such as a yearning for autonomy and flexibility. The majority of these new café owners are highly educated women, like Kamijo. They share lifestyle concerns with their middle-aged consumers in Nishiogi, including healthy eating, psychological well-being, and environmental impact. Their typically restrained aesthetics veer away from Tokyo’s cluttered nostalgic kissaten and more towards airy Nordic modern spaces typical of third-wave coffee shops globally.  They are as much lifestyle projects as businesses. However, unlike many novices who dive into the café business purely based on personal visions, Kamijo is a coffee business veteran, giving her a keen sense of what customers look for in a café space. Palm Park Café is a project based on years of experience.

From Studying Indian Philosophy to Coffee

The story of how Kamijo opened Palm Park Café goes back to when she moved to Tokyo. We first asked her why she moved to Tokyo and how she became interested in coffee.

“I love my family and my hometown, Miyagi prefecture, but at the time I was bored,” she said. “I have longed to live in an urban area, so I decided to go to a Tokyo university and apply to Waseda University. I liked Demon Kogure, the rock band “Seikima-II” singer, who went to university. I failed. But, I took entrance exams at the faculty of Indian Philosophy of Toyo University as a second choice. At the time, I didn’t have a clear goal of what I wanted to study, but it was the only university in Japan with a department focused specifically on Indian philosophy, so I thought it might be interesting. After entering university, I wanted money for living expenses and fun, so I looked for a part-time job. At that time, I wasn’t diligent at all and just wanted an easy job. Jobs in food service were easy to get into, so I decided I wanted something with a simple menu, flexible hours, and self-service. My options came down to a café or a beef bowl shop. Among cafés, Doutor Coffee seemed to have the easiest operations, so I started working there part-time.”

“At first, I just wanted to work with as little effort as possible, but I started thinking, 'Wow, coffee is delicious,' and it became interesting. I could taste the differences myself, and I enjoyed talking to customers about it. Customers would respond, 'Oh? Then I’ll buy this,' and that interaction became enjoyable. That’s how it all started."

From working at Doutor Coffee part-time to earning pocket money, we asked her how this led to carving out a career as a barista.

"Time passed, and I continued working part-time at Doutor," she said, "but I heard in the news that a Starbucks was opening in Ginza, so I went to check it out. It was completely different from the café culture I had known. The coffee was delicious, the store was stylish, the staff were unique, I didn’t even know how to order, the coffee cups were big, and the coffee itself was bitter. I was so shocked by it all that I couldn’t forget it. I kept that memory in the back of my mind while continuing to work at Doutor.”

“When I thought about what kind of job I wanted after graduating, it was during the so-called 'employment ice age,' when the economy was terrible. On top of that, having studied something obscure like Indian philosophy made job hunting difficult. Employers would ask, 'What’s that?' and I eventually decided, 'I just won’t find a job.'”

“For a while, I became a freelancer and got into theater. Nishiogi has a lot of actors, doesn’t it? I figured I could do theater while freelancing, and if I was going to do that, I thought I might as well do something fun, so I decided to work at Starbucks. At Starbucks, I learned about various cultures and thought, 'Working here full-time could be interesting,' so I transitioned from a part-timer to a full-time employee. From there, I became a store manager and led a smooth and fulfilling career at Starbucks. I learned about management and various other things, and my world of coffee expanded further. Around that time, Japan was during its first coffee boom. I wanted to succeed in that environment, but I got married, and my husband’s work required us to move to California, the USA. I was very torn, but I left Starbucks to go with him. We moved to New York to San Jose and then to Los Angeles, living there for a total of six years."

Continuing the Journey of Coffee in the U.S.

“Although I couldn’t speak English back then, I wanted to work so badly that I ended up working at a Japanese patisserie in Los Angeles. It was there that I reconnected with coffee. At the time, third-wave coffee was already in its prime in the U.S., and cafés everywhere focused on light-roast coffee with acidity. Ironically, this style, rooted in Japan’s traditional Kissaten culture with its hand-drip brewing methods, was considered cool. People had grown tired of large machines like those used at Starbucks.”

Kamijo worked for two years at a patisserie located in a Japanese-populated area near Torrance.

“During those two years, I was busy raising my kids," she explained. "The shop’s concept was cakes as the main attraction, with coffee sourced from a local roastery. The manager wasn’t particularly passionate about coffee, so I became curious on my own, wondering where the coffee came from and wanting to visit the roastery. I’d even heard a little about Blue Bottle Coffee starting to trend in Japan, and when I returned, I was surprised to find it really had taken off.”

After returning to Japan, Kamijo briefly returned to her job at Starbucks. However, her journey in coffee was far from over.

“I didn’t have many options," she said, "so I ended up going back to work at Starbucks. But I just couldn’t keep up anymore. The product turnover was much faster, and the large-scale production and consumption that generated so much waste every day really bothered me. I decided to leave Starbucks to the younger generation and pursue something else.”

“In Kokubunji, where I live now, there are many organic cafés, including a famous and fascinating café called Café Slow and its sister branch located in the station building. I started working there. Up until that point, I thought anything delicious was good enough, but that’s when I began to learn about lunches and coffee made with local or organic ingredients.”

Working at Café Slow’s sister branch ignited Kamijo’s interest not only in delicious flavors but also in the origin of ingredients. It was also around this time that she encountered coffee roasting.

“I started working there during the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. I became deeply interested in organic practices in Kokubunji and, since we couldn’t go out during the pandemic, I thought, ‘Why not try roasting at home?’ Around that time, the manager at Café Slow was also about to start roasting and asked me, ‘Would you like to join?’ So, we began studying roasting together and experimenting with the equipment. Roasting became fascinating, but I wasn’t sure if the coffee I roasted was actually good enough. My husband suggested, ‘Why don’t you sell it online and see how people react?’ So, I launched an online shop, and it sold quite well, partly due to the stay-at-home trend during the pandemic. I also hosted Instagram live sessions to connect with people while selling, saying things like, ‘Do you have any coffee questions?’ while engaging with customers.”

It was at this time that she met another young female foodie who runs the small Nishiogi bakery Cacika, specializing in organic cookies and other pastries.

“As the pandemic started to settle down and online sales quieted down, I coincidentally met the owner of Cacika at Café Slow, and we hit it off. She asked me if I could serve coffee alongside her baked goods at a shared kitchen in Kichijoji. At first, I joined her once a week, brewing coffee while she sold her sweets. Back then, I roasted the coffee at home and brought it to the shop. Gradually, more people started enjoying my coffee, and I began receiving offers like, ‘Would you consider opening a stall?’ or ‘Why not try a local market?’ Around that time, an influencer who loved exploring markets in Kichijoji mentioned how interesting Nishiogi was, saying, ‘It’s now considered more desirable than Kichijoji, with so many unique individual shops. There’s even a shared kitchen space available; why not give it a try?’ When I researched Nishiogi, I found very little information about it. But after discussing with Cacika’s owner, she said, ‘Our contract at the Kichijoji shared kitchen is ending soon, so it might be interesting to check it out. Let’s give it a try!’ That’s how we started working once a week at a place called Koto Café in Nishiogi. That was about a year ago.”

Falling in love with Nishiogi

“Since then," Kamijo said, "the owner of Cacika had been saying, ‘If we’re going to open a shop, it shouldn’t be in Kichijoji because it’s too expensive. Nishiogi would be better.’ I also found the people I met at Koto Café to be unique and delightful, and I felt happy working there. I started to think, ‘Maybe people who live in Nishiogi are fascinating.’ The old buildings and shops all had character, and the customers were kind and curious.”

Through her experiences participating in markets with Cacika’s owner in Kichijoji, Kamijo gradually came to appreciate the charm of Nishiogi. She describes finding the location for Palm Park Coffee as a serendipitous encounter.

“Cacika’s owner found the space next door to her shop and asked a real estate agent about it. They said we could take a look, so we went. As soon as I saw it, I had a gut feeling that it might work. I’m a bit spiritual in that sense. I thought, ‘If this isn’t meant to be, something will go wrong—a family emergency, financial trouble, or someone else swooping in and renting the space before us.’ But nothing like that happened. Everything progressed smoothly.”

“Although I initially planned to take out a loan to pay for the renovations, I ended up being able to cover the costs myself. The process went without a hitch, and I opened the shop. Since it wasn’t a long-term plan, I did worry, ‘Is this really okay?’ But in hindsight, everything I had done in the past felt like it was leading up to this moment.”

“The painting displayed in the shop was drawn by a classmate from my time studying Indian Philosophy. That same person also designed our logo. At Koto Café, I met Cacika’s owner and also the person who provides our bagels. I still exchange information with fellow coffee shop owners, and that network has remained active.”

“It’s challenging to rent a property in Nishiogi, but I received helpful advice from the community I encountered at Koto Café, which helped me learn about the real estate process.”

Kamijo said it is difficult to rent a property without a personal introduction.

 “Publicly available information for those looking to open a shop is often superficial. Properties are often spoken for before any official announcements are made. For example, a landlord might say, ‘I have a vacancy in my building—do you know anyone interested?’ through informal networks.”

“When this space became available, I asked a contact in real estate if they had information about it, and they replied, ‘Not through us.’ However, a well-known real estate agency called Orange Board was handling this property. When I inquired with them, they confirmed it was available, but it hadn’t yet been shared through broader real estate networks.”

“From what I understand, landlords prefer to keep listings open until the deadline and then evaluate all applicants at once instead of offering spaces on a first-come, first-served basis. In my case, I happened to be the only applicant, so I was able to rent it.”

Engaging with the Local Community

Starting her business in a new area, Kamijo is gradually building relationships with neighboring shops.

“I don’t have much interaction yet, but I’ve gotten to know the shop below us, which sells miscellaneous goods, and the fortune-telling place next door. I’ve left some flyers at the premium gym across the street, offering discounts on coffee for their customers. Tomorrow, I’m planning to visit the pizza shop nearby to introduce myself and maybe build a friendly relationship. Little by little, I’m making connections.”

“I wanted to participate in morning markets, but with so many coffee shops already involved, I decided it wasn’t necessary. Instead, I invite people to visit Palm Park Café after the market to enjoy a morning coffee here.”

Recently, Kamijo has seen more local customers visiting Palm Park Coffee.

“Lately, I’ve noticed more locals coming in. In the beginning, it was mostly friends or people who became fans of mine through markets, traveling from far away to visit. Customers I met at Koto Café also came by, and some people tried the bagels we sell and said they were delicious, later visiting Koto Café to buy more. At first, locals with curiosity would occasionally drop in, but it felt like not many of them were coming.... Now, when I ask, ‘Where are you visiting from today?’ I often hear, ‘From the neighborhood.’ That makes me really happy.”

Eat-in and takeout options are both popular.

“It’s about half and half. During our bagel breakfast mornings, there are regulars who always come in to eat. People understand that it’s a small shop, so they adjust their timing to avoid crowds. If it’s busy, they’ll say, ‘I’ll take it to go today.’”

“We have six seats, and when the shop fills up, it’s hard for customers to relax, which I feel bad about. Recently, the heat has reduced the number of takeout customers.... The ratio of men to women is about equal, though it feels like slightly more women come in. Maybe because the owner is a woman?”

Some customers use the café as a workspace.

“In the mornings, there are people who stop by for breakfast while checking their emails," Kamijo explained. "Sometimes they’ll say, ‘I have an online meeting starting soon, so I’ll head out!’ and leave.”

With a small eat-in space, customers are seated close to each other, which creates a unique environment compared to larger cafés.

“Conversations between customers vary," she explained. "If one person starts talking, a conversation might naturally begin, but there are also customers who just want to quietly read a book. The size of the space might influence this. For example, even at Starbucks, there were stores where customers connected and others where they didn’t. Smaller stores seemed more conducive to interaction, where regulars might recognize each other and say, ‘Good morning!’”

However, because the eat-in area is separated by stairs from where Kamijo stands, opportunities for her to chat with customers are limited.

“That’s true. The only chances I have to talk with customers are when they order coffee or when they’re leaving. It feels a bit lonely. I’d love to chat more, which is why I sometimes do Instagram live sessions. On slow days or after closing, I’ll say something like, ‘I’ll keep this live session going until a customer shows up!’ and just chat online. It’s fun!”

Commitment to Coffee Beans

For Kamijo, the most enjoyable aspect of managing a café is observing the interaction between customers and the café space.

“I think the most rewarding moment is seeing customers fully immerse themselves in the space. When they feel like a part of it. It doesn’t matter how they spend their time, but I believe the space itself is the most important.”

She also frequently visits other cafés.

“I visit as a customer to fully enjoy the experience. Part of it is for study, but I try not to be in study mode as much as possible. I want to enjoy the atmosphere. I also talk with the staff, asking questions like, ‘What kind of coffee is this?’”

“When creating this café, I thought a lot about what kind of shop I wanted it to be. My ideal is something like an old-fashioned candy store run by a grandmother in a shopping district. A place where the shopkeeper is always there, and there’s an ice cream case—customers come, pick something out, and buy it. That kind of simplicity is what I think is best.

I want people to feel free to come by, to enjoy coffee casually. That’s why I decided not to set prices too high. Initially, we charged around 620 yen, but now we’ve lowered it to 550 yen.”

Kamijo’s commitment extends beyond the concept of her café to the beans themselves.

“Our coffee is essentially all fair trade. It’s not officially certified, but it’s fully traceable.”

“We visit the farms, speak directly with the farmers, and have data on who gets paid and how much. At the top of our menu, it says we serve organic, pesticide-free, fair trade, and ethical coffee. We also share this information online.”

Her awareness of fair trade and organic practices stems from past experiences.

“My understanding of organic practices came from my time in Kokubunji. I learned a lot there. Fair trade, I think, is something I first encountered at Starbucks. It was during my time there that I realized how important fair trade is.”

Kamijo points out that many farmers can’t get certification. “Getting an organic certification requires a lot of time and money. There are many farmers who don’t use pesticides but don’t have certification. That’s the majority of the coffee we use. Certification alone can significantly raise coffee prices, but there are many small farmers and cooperatives that can’t afford it. If we don’t support them, they might stop farming altogether or resort to using pesticides, which I’d hate to see happen.”

“There are many farmers like that. A huge number. I want to support those who are doing their best. It’s about encouraging people who are striving.”

“For example, popular third-wave coffee shops, often source top-quality, high-grade beans that cost around 1,300 yen per cup. They are indeed delicious, but the owners of those farms are often wealthy and can invest heavily in improving quality. Their beans are usually purchased through auctions, where prices are driven up by fierce bidding. However, many small-scale farmers can’t participate in those auctions. They form cooperatives, share resources like processing facilities, and bring their beans to market as a group. One example is a trading company called ‘Umi no Mukou Coffee.’ They work closely with cooperatives, visit farms, and even provide guidance. It’s a fascinating approach.”

Kamijo has also had the chance to visit coffee farms herself.

“Yes, last year I went to Indonesia, specifically to Bali. The region I visited is a volcanic area in the northeast known for producing high-quality coffee. Seeing the farms was a great learning experience. Most of the farmers also have orchards—mandarin oranges and bananas grow abundantly among the coffee plants.”

“The coffee plants themselves aren’t directly sprayed with pesticides, but the mandarin trees attract butterflies, so they do spray those. Sometimes the pesticide accidentally gets on the coffee plants, which is why they can’t claim it’s entirely pesticide-free. They also use homemade pest traps—simple but effective—and the leftover coffee cherries from pulping are fed to livestock. Chickens ate them voraciously. The chicken meat in Indonesia is delicious, likely because they roam freely and eat naturally. Coffee grown in such an environment is truly exceptional.”

“It was my first time visiting a farm, and it was an invaluable experience. I think society, including myself, tends to view coffee-producing countries as poor, but being there made me realize that their definition of richness is different.”

“The roads and infrastructure are chaotic—yes, it’s challenging. But everyone seemed happy and was laughing. Supermarkets were well-stocked, cafés were everywhere, and people roasted their own coffee and served it at their cafés. It was inspiring.”

“The guide who showed us the farms told me, ‘Please stop thinking of coffee-producing countries as poor.’ That comment left a strong impression on me. Asian coffee is delicious, and Japan is geographically close, which shortens transportation time. That’s a significant advantage.”

Kamijo Noriko is a coffee culture expert and a veteran of the industry. She has years of experience in the business, from working in the world’s largest chain to experimenting with friends in multiple pop-up operations. She knows what she is doing. Nonetheless, a café is not an easy undertaking, especially when looked at in purely business terms. In the end, it is wrong to look at these spaces in purely financial terms. In an era of economic precarity, tiny independent cafes are pockets part of the urban fabric that are more part of a grassroots economy based on human relationships rather than the capitalist market economy of chain cafes. We should appreciate them as a space created for us by people who care about making the city a better place, one cup at a time. (James Farrer and Sakura Yajima, Feb. 5, 2025; interview Aug. 19, 2024)