
In a country where independent cafés once stood as symbols of local pride and artisan taste, LAP’s expansion feels like a revolution a rebellion against the bourgeois rituals of “good taste”.
With 16 shops in Berlin, four in Munich, and now a fresh outpost in Hamburg’s hip Schanzenviertel, LAP isn’t just selling espresso but it’s selling a new kind of normal.
To Germany’s café elite, LAP is a villain. It's an affordable, quick-serve model that undercuts the artisanal roasters who’ve built their identity on slow brews and handcrafted aesthetics. To them, coffee is culture, not convenience. But to a growing number of ordinary Germans, LAP represents freedom from pretension.
Why pay €4.80 for a flat white served with existential music and reclaimed wood when you can get a €2.50 cappuccino that actually tastes decent and doesn’t judge you for ordering oat milk?
This isn’t about coffee anymore. It’s about who gets to define “good.”
Ironically, LAP Coffee is spreading through neighbourhoods once known for their resistance to commercialisation. The Schanzenviertel in Hamburg, for example, was once the beating heart of counterculture—now, it’s becoming the stage for a new kind of rebellion: mass affordability.
What used to be a struggle against capitalism has turned into a struggle for participation in it. The same young people who condemned Starbucks for corporatising coffee are now queuing up at LAP not because it’s cool, but because it’s realistic.
Maybe this is gentrification’s final phase: when the working class reclaims what’s been priced out of their reach.
LAP, with its clean branding and no-nonsense pricing, is stripping coffee of that performance. It’s saying, “You don’t need to prove your taste to deserve good coffee.” And that’s exactly what makes traditionalists uncomfortable.
The German coffee scene, like much of Europe’s urban culture, has long been defined by subtle hierarchies of sophistication. LAP’s rise exposes those hierarchies for what they are: flimsy, self-congratulatory walls around simple pleasures.
Beneath all the froth, this is about cultural democratisation. LAP’s success signals a shift from aspiration to accessibility
From “look at my taste” to “I just need caffeine and comfort.”
It’s the same energy that fueled the rise of budget fashion, fast delivery, and affordable fitness chains. It’s messy, yes but it’s also honest. It reflects a generation tired of moral lectures disguised as marketing.
Maybe we’re not watching the fall of café culture, but its rebirth the one that finally includes everyone.