A pour, frozen mid-bloom.
Hi, I'm Neil — short for Indranil. By day I'm cofounder & CTO at Incentiv, building equity infrastructure for private markets. The rest of the time, you'll find me obsessing over grind sizes, water temperatures, and whether 1:16 really is the golden ratio.
This little corner of the internet is where I keep notes on what I brew, the gear I'm into, the hacks I've tried (some genius, most not), and the cafés I keep going back to in Bangalore.
If any of this sounds like your kind of nerdery — come brew with me.
A logbook of experiments. Some land. Most teach me something.
Tetsu Kasuya's 4:6 keeps coming back to me. Split the pour into five — first two control sweetness, last three control strength. Tried it on a light-roast Yirgacheffe; the jasmine notes came through cleaner than any other method I've used on these beans. Felt like cheating.
The classic World AeroPress recipe with a twist — I bloomed for 30s instead of 45, and pressed harder than I usually do. Bolder, less tea-like. Better suited to the medium-roast Brazilian I had on hand. Not every bean wants delicacy.
James Hoffmann's Moka method. Pre-heated water, low flame, lid open. Pull it off the heat the second the gurgle starts. Smoother than anything I'd made on a Moka before — the bitterness that I'd always blamed on the device turned out to be entirely my fault.
Coarse grind, 4-min steep, break the crust gently, scoop the foam, wait another 5 minutes, then plunge halfway. Sounds fussy. Tastes like a different drink entirely — clean, sweet, almost like a really good pour-over.
The small arsenal on my kitchen counter. None of it sponsored. Most of it loved.
Ceramic, size 02. The one I reach for first. Forgiving once you stop fighting it.
Hand grinder. The single biggest upgrade I've made. Grinds for pour-over and espresso both.
Goose-neck kettle with PID. Pour control matters more than I wanted to admit.
Overkill. Worth it. The auto-tare and built-in timer take the friction out of repeatable brews.
My travel brewer. Indestructible. Forgives bad water. Doesn't forgive bad beans.
The nostalgia piece. My grandfather had one. Mine is louder.
Some of these will change your cup. A couple are nonsense. I'll let you guess which.
Removes the papery taste. Also pre-heats the dripper and your cup. Costs nothing. Why isn't this standard?
Worth itSounds heretical. Wets the grounds evenly, kills the dry-bed problem, makes your extraction more consistent. Gentle swirl, not a stab.
Worth itCounterintuitive, but coffee freezes beautifully if it's sealed properly. Pull out a week's worth at a time. Locks in freshness past the roast date.
Worth itIf your tap water tastes like a swimming pool, so will your coffee. A basic Brita gets you 80% of the way there. Third Wave Water if you want to go full-nerd.
Worth itSupposed to cut bitterness. Tried it. Tasted like coffee with salt in it. Move on.
Skip itThe single thing that took my brews from "decent" to "repeatable." A volume measure is a lie. A scale is the truth.
Worth itCafés I keep going back to. None of them paid me to say this.
The reliable one. Their single-origins rotate fast and they actually train their baristas. A good baseline for anywhere in the city.
Pour-overRoasters first, café second. The kind of place where you can ask what altitude the beans were grown at and get an actual answer. Beautiful space, too.
SpecialtyWhen I want to remember that good coffee can come from Indian farms. Their estate selections are a quiet revolution. Try the South Indian filter — done properly.
Farm-to-cupMy laptop-and-pour-over spot. Consistent, unhurried, well-priced. Their cold brew on a Bangalore afternoon is medicine.
WorkspaceSmall, focused, deeply opinionated about coffee. The cuppings here are an education. Go on a Saturday morning if you can.
CuppingsTribal-grown coffees from the Eastern Ghats. The Selection AA is one of my favourite cups in the country. Yes, in the country.
Single-originIf you've read this far, you probably take your coffee a little too seriously. Same.
I'm always up to brew with a fellow enthusiast — or someone who's just getting curious. Bring your beans, your gear, your weirdest hack, your dumbest question. I'll bring the kettle and probably a strong opinion or two.
We can do it at my place, your favourite café, or somewhere new — your call. No agenda, no schedule, just coffee and conversation.
Send me an emailOr find me on LinkedIn — happy to jam on coffee, fintech, equity, open-source, or whatever else.