ike Cullen, owner of Broadview Espresso, was hoping for a quiet opening. Tough luck, Mike. In the very short time that his shop has been open, it has already received a ton of attention from both mainstream and alternative media sources (including, it seems, us) that have suggested his modesty will have to be put on hold. As I sat back on one of the comfortable art deco club chairs in the little shop, I heard the same sentiment echoed over and over: "Thank God you're open. I had nowhere to get my coffee."

Located on Broadview slightly north of the Danforth, the early success of Broadview Espresso says as much about the rapidly gentrifying neighbourhood as it does about the shop itself. Cullen is an indigenous Broadviewian, having resided there for three years before opening the shop. Formerly a waiter at Canoe and Globe Bistro, he's always had aspirations to open up his own restaurant, but until recently he had his sights set on a pizza place. All that changed when one day on the Danforth someone asked him where to get a good cup of coffee and Cullen's best answer was Dark Horse Espresso bar all the way at Queen Street East. "That's when the lightbulb went off in my head," says Cullen. "When I finally saw the 'for lease' sign I jumped at the opportunity".

Formerly a destitute old porn shop, the building that now houses Broadview Espresso has undergone a full renovation. Only the ceilings remain. Where the fluorescent lights once hung, 1930s art deco schoolhouse lights from the former Café Brussels now sit in their place. The place only has a few small tables, but includes chairs that look out onto Broadview street and a long coffee bar that houses a stainless steel espresso machine. The entire design was performed by David Rodriguez, a former coworker of Cullen's at Canoe and a man he refers to as "an amateur genius". According to Cullen, Rodriguez snapped up the job when Cullen jokingly told him "it's yours if you want it".

This looseness spreads to Cullen's managerial style. He has constantly been observing the art of making the proper Americano during sojourns in Italy and in his native Victoria where espresso culture rules. When people ask him for a soy milk substitution or a non-fat non-dairy macchiato, he's more than happy to oblige. "It's like when I worked at Canoe and someone would ask for his steak well done," he tells me. "I'd want to refuse, but ultimately he's the one who will have to eat it." The fact that people are so fussy about their gourmet brew speaks volumes about the area that once was a hotbed of lunch counters, porn shops, and gritty urbanity, and to some extent still is.

The only thing Cullen has yet to budge on is wi-fi internet, worrying that people will just set up with their laptops and zone out. "I want this to be a social place, a place where people can chill out, listen to some good music, and chat with each other". The tunes are cranked out from his personal iPod, a mix of blues, folk, and indie rock that seems perfectly crafted for a laid-back coffee haunt.