The first thing that strikes you when you walk into Small Batch Coffee Company is they treat the “black gold” like a precious metal.

There is an opulent 1kg roaster to the left of the till. Decorating the windows is an extensive collection of unusual contraptions for making coffee. Then there is the smell, which gives the place the whiff of a happy weekend morning.

Unsurprisingly, head roaster Alan Tomlins says the coffee-making process is more complex than sourcing a fine wine.

To make the sort of cup he wants to drink, everyone from the fruit pickers in Africa and South America to the bean washers, shippers, roasters and baristas must be on side, doing their bit to treat the beans as if they were newborn children.

The reason? “There are more chances to mess up a cup of coffee than any other delicacy.”

It’s also why a row of halogen-powered syphons standing on a long marble bar take pride of place in the shop, which opened in November.

The Japanese precision gadgets look as if they’ve been robbed from an expensive chemistry set. Yet they are the simplest things in there.

“All they are is pressure and water,” explains Tomlins, as he carefully washes a paper filter (to stop it affecting the taste), before pushing it into the top of a glass globe where the water will be forced up into a container by its expanding vapours.

“But they make the sweetest, juiciest coffee.”

The advantage is that people who like to add milk can take the syphon coffee black. Sugar freaks can put the cubes back too.

He says the stuff is so delicate, no cafetiere or percolator could produce it.

Indeed, once the coffee has been added to the jar, stirred slowly with a bamboo paddle, removed from the heat and sucked back down into the globe, the sediment left is virtually dry, with no grains having passed through the filter.

“It draws out the flavours, makes it fuller and gives it more depth. But it still has the light consistency of cafetiere coffee.”

Syphon coffee, in fact, looks more like tea. The lighter taste, says Tomlins, once only a tea drinker, makes it better to pair with the cakes (fruit Danish, £2; pear and apple Bakewell tart, £1.50; banana bread, £2.25) delivered daily from the Flourpot Bakery.

One syphon coffee costs from £2.95 and easily serves two. The beans – India Balmaadi, Guatemala Finca Santa Clara and Kenya Gethumbwini Peaberry when I visited – are changed weekly and reflect whichever country’s produce is in season.

Tomkins admits syphon coffee is as much about visuals as taste. There is theatre in the process and when it’s dark outside he hopes the orange glow from the brass-trim heaters make the shop beneath MyHotel in Jubilee Street seem as if it is filled with magic.

“Coffee culture has grown beyond belief, but there are so many interesting flavours and tastes people have yet to discover.

"We want to get people interested in coffee that is a bit different to your typical latte or cappuccino.”

He explains why certain Kenyan blends taste of grapefruit and melon and some Brazilian flavours are buttery and stone fruit.

There are blends for the traditional Italian servings too, with espresso at £1.40, cappuccino at £2.30, Americano, £1.90 and the Spanish-style cortado, £1.90.

Tomlins’s knowledge and passion are among the reasons why, four years ago, Small Batch Coffee Company was a tiny start-up focused on wholesaling, and now supplies coffee to more than 30 businesses in Sussex, has three shops of its own and two carts – one at Hove railway station and one at Brighton railway station.

No wonder he treats the beans with such respect.

Opening hours: 7am-7pm Monday to Saturday. 8am-6pm Sundays