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Two of the best seats to nab at Maia Speciality, Mandeep Bhusal’s tiny, handsome, coffee-focused cafe in Lewisham, a sister outlet to his much-loved Ashfield Apothecary cafe two suburbs away, are stools at the end of the honey-hued oak front counter.

Here, Bhusal, who is deeply passionate about all aspects of a cup of coffee, guides his gooseneck water kettle, heated on a countertop single-induction burner, towards two ceramic drippers. The precise process of creating a pour-over brew, carried out centimetres from patrons, becomes an engrossing impromptu workshop crossed with a zen-like caffeine ceremony.

“It opens more of a connection with people,” Bhusal says, caressing the beakers receiving the dark hot beverage. “Even if you don’t order one you see me make it, you get interested, you get curious. And that starts a conversation where I can explain it to people.”

This is partly what attracted Bhusal to the shop, which was spotted en route to roasting beans for his Ashfield Apothecary coffee label. “It has the feeling of a Japanese ramen shop,” he says. “Small, not too many tables, and people are connected.”

Maia Speciality, seven months old and named after the name Bhusal and his wife, Gulshen, would have given their newborn if he had been a girl, also highlights Bhusal’s attention to detail.

The cafe’s selection of sandwiches and pastries is served on collected vintage plates, some donated by loyal customers. Bhusal’s preference for handle-free mugs for filter coffee led to working with Marrickville ceramics artist Melody Emi Brunton, whose cups feature dimpled resting spots for fingers or thumbs.

After stripping the “hugely run-down” shop, and installing oak counter and window ledges to off-set darker, more dramatic wall panelling, Bhusal pored over paint colour charts for a peaceful blue for the exterior, a match with the coffee machine’s colour.

Even the merchandise is made with studious intent. Handmade five-panel short-brim caps, designed in San Francisco, worn daily by Bhusal and sewn in Mexico, feature fabric from Nepal.

“I’m from Nepal, he says. “Maia means love in Nepali and, of course, fertility in Greek.”

Shelves hold colour-coded bags of Bhusal’s self-roasted Ashfield Apothecary beans, including single origins and a seasonal blend that is rich and deep.

“I always wanted to do a small espresso bar,” he says. “And, initially, I wanted to do only black coffee here. But it’s a bit hard in Sydney to do that because 80 per cent of coffee is milk based. Maybe in Melbourne.”

Bhusal says the stretch of shops across from Lewisham Station have been “dead” for a while and without a coffee shop for two years.

“People come past mainly for the train station,” he says. “But now we are full on the weekends and 60 per cent are repeat customers. Most people I know by name and some are even coming over from Ashfield Apothecary to visit.”

Most of them, Bhusal says, are keen fans of the croque monsieur, a precisely made gooey beauty filled with organic double-smoked ham, Swiss and tasty cheese, good seedy mustard and bechamel sauce.

Equally popular is the pastrami sandwich, zesty with spiced beef, kicky sauerkraut and pungent Sriracha mustard, and the chicken sandwich, a tall and filling ensemble of buoyant focaccia, juicy smoked chicken, cos lettuce, coriander, sour cream and smoky relish. It belies its humble looks.

There are also fresh croissants, excellent house-made brownies, gluten-free bread options and, depending on the week, crunchy topped doughnuts from Shortstop Coffee & Donuts.

If you don’t sit at the counter, the bifold front window, which frames a suspended prism light spilling refracted rainbows on sunny afternoons, offers sun-drenched seating inside and out. Sedate passing traffic and nearby dormant shops on this quiet residential street continue Maia’s calm feel.

As Bhusal and staff tinker with filters, beans, milks and exacting pours, Maia Speciality feels like a secret spot with direct access to heart-beatingly good coffee.

“This cafe has taken a long time to create,” Bhusal says. “Much longer than I thought. But I didn’t want to rush it. I waited until everything was ready because I wanted it to be just right for people.”