Coffee expert Anthony Swartz says a true good cup of java is a whole vibe.
“It’s a simple little bean but it wakes up the whole world,” he said.
The 85-year-old, who runs a micro coffee business from his home, has more than 60 years of coffee roasting and blending experience. He also has very strong opinions about the beverage.
For example, he believes that good coffee has a strong aroma and drinking it should be a sensory experience that’s about more than just taste.
“When you grind the coffee, you already get the aroma, and when the steam comes out, the whole place smells like a good cup of coffee. It brings up your mood before you even touch your cup,” Anthony says.
Secondly, he believes that modern espresso machines are not essential and one could make an espresso in a plunger.
“You can get a good cup of coffee with this,” he said, holding up an old coffee pot that has a cup above it to hold a filter. Filter paper, he says, can help improve the flavour of coffee by “taking some of the oils out”.
Thirdly, he says, good coffee is about using the right amount. According to Anthony, only 9g is the perfect amount of coffee for one good cup.
And lastly, good coffee, he says, is all about the roast, blend and grind.
“You must use the right amount of coffee to get a good cup and you must use the right blend,” he explains. “A master coffee roaster knows how to get a good roast and a good blend.”

The making of a coffee master
Anthony has been working in the coffee industry since 1963, when a kilo of coffee would set you back a whole R2 and change.
“Those years ago you paid about R2,20 a kilo for the best coffee. Now a kilo of coffee costs R500,” Anthony says, adding that he is sometimes embarrassed to tell his customers the price when they order, because coffee has become so expensive.
His love of the beverage and his desire to work in the industry, however, began when he worked as a lift operator at Stuttafords. The job gave him front row seats to the lively goings on at the building’s resident coffee shop, The Bird Cage, in 1958.
“Every morning, people coming to work, before they would go up in the lift, they would go into the coffee shop, and that coffee shop was like a bird cage because you would just see people there bubbling inside and everyone was so happy. And that made my mind up there already that I would like to have my own coffee shop because it was such a happy feeling when they came out, after having enjoyed the coffee and they looked at me with big smiles on their faces. This is what coffee does to people.”
A few years later, Anthony discovered the only coffee roasting company in the city at the time and applied to work there. He started as a shop assistant but during his 35 year tenure at the company, Anthony learned everything he could about the industry.
Then, in the 90s, Anthony was inspired to open his own shop by Nelson Mandela’s release from prison. Anthony says he felt it was time to come out of his own “prison” especially since he had years of accumulated knowledge under his belt.
“I had my education on what to do. So, I opened up a coffee shop in Long Street.”
It was called the Golden Cup, and over the next 25 years the shop would grow a loyal following and achieve international acclaim. “I used to get customers from all over the world,” Anthony said, extracting an article about his coffee shop, written in a foreign language, from a pile of newspaper clippings. “And people used to say; ‘Your coffee is as good as any coffee shop in America or England’, and that made me feel good and that’s why a lot of people used to do write-ups about my coffee shop.”

The move home
Despite its gilded legacy, however, when covid hit, the combination of escalating rent prices and lockdown forced The Golden Cup to close. Anthony carted all his equipment to his home in Strandfontein where he has lived with his family, for more than 40 years. His growing family, who were raised on coffee beans, includes three sons, three daughters, 10 grandchildren and four great-grandchildren – and they all call him the “coffee man”.
“When they come in here they say; ‘Pa, I want coffee,’” Anthony says, laughing.
The move home was fortuitous in the end, Anthony said, because not long after closing the shop, his wife’s dementia worsened and Anthony realised that it was good to be home with his family.
“When you have a coffee shop, you’re out early and come home late in the evening. So I brought all my equipment home and I worked out of a caravan.”
To his delight, a lot of his regular customers followed him.
“All the lawyers in Keerom Street, the judges and the magistrates, they still enjoy my coffee until today,” he said, adding that coffee now is more of a hobby. “Now, I can lay in bed and take my orders and when I get up, I can roast a kilo of coffee for the day and deliver it once a week. I find it so enjoyable to have it more like a hobby and at the same time I can spend more time with my family.”
Not all of Anthony’s equipment moved with him to Strandfontein. The old roaster, which he bought from his previous bosses when their company went under liquidation two years after he had left, is housed at his brother’s small-holding in Kuils River. The large roaster is among several long-lived coffee equipment that Anthony has collected over the years, including some antiques. Anthony believes it’s the coffee that has helped it last this long.
“I have so many customers that have lived to a good age, one is 95, and I’m still delivering coffee to them.”
His former employers, however, have not had the same longevity in the industry, which Anthony says has been hampered by a variety of challenges over the years, such as steep increases in prices and more recently — coffee pod machines.
“They’re all gone,” he said. “But here I am, still selling coffee.”




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