Beck & Beans
An old saddler’s at the bottom of the lane.
Two rooms, a counter you can see from the bridge, and a garden that runs down to the water. Opened in the spring of 2024 by Hannah, who used to walk past it every morning and wonder.
Where the lane meets the brook.
Ferrers Row runs off the High Street, narrows past the last cottage and crosses the brook on a hump of a bridge. We’re the first door on the other side. The saddler left in the seventies and the building sat quiet for a long time after.
The front room has the counter, the machine and the four window tables. The back room has the long table, the pram corner and the shelf of books people leave behind. Between them is a kitchen the size of a generous cupboard.
Roasted seven miles up the road.
Our beans come from Little Hollow, a two-drum roastery in an old dairy at Woodhouse Eaves. Tom roasts on a Tuesday and drives down on a Wednesday, so nothing on the machine is more than a week from the drum.
The house blend is built for milk: chocolatey, low acid, forgiving. The pour-over changes monthly and is whatever Tom is excited about. Bags to take home are on the shelf by the door, ground if you ask.
In the oven at five.
Ruth mixes the sourdough the afternoon before, proves it overnight in the cold room and bakes from five. The white loaf, the seeded rye, the buns and the scones are all out before the door opens at eight. Cakes come after, while the first coffees are going out.
There is one oven, so there is a limit. Ring before ten and we put a loaf by.
Three of us, most mornings.
Hannah ReeveOwner · on the machineGrew up two streets away. Ran a café in Sheffield for six years, came home, saw the saddler’s empty and did the sums on a napkin.
Dan OkaforFront of house · the tablesKnows every regular’s order and most of their dogs’ names. Runs the board, runs the bookings, and runs the Sunday brunch like a small kitchen pass.
Ruth CallowayBaker · from fiveTrained in a Leicester bakery, baked for a pub for a while, and now has the oven to herself before anyone else is in. The cinnamon bun is hers.
Down to the water.
Six tables on the grass between the back door and the brook, under an apple tree that still crops. Blankets in the box by the door for the cold months. Dogs on leads, because of the ducks.
It closes when the brook is high, which happens a few days a year, and we move everyone into the back room with hot chocolate.
Around the café.
Hire the café for an evening.
From six, both rooms and the garden are yours. Twenty-eight seated at the long tables, forty standing. Supper clubs, birthdays, a book launch, a wake done gently. Ruth can cook a set menu, or we can just do coffee, cake and the corkscrew.
Price depends on numbers and what you’d like fed. Tell us the shape of it and we come back with a quote, usually within two working days.
Thanks, you.
Hannah reads these herself, usually after the morning rush. You should have a reply, and a rough quote, within two working days.
In a hurry? Ring 01632 960 427 between two and four, when it’s quiet.
