The art of brewing memories.

No giant master plan. Just coffee, chai, stubbornness, and the belief that cafés could feel warmer and more human.

Good chai. Good coffee. Generous food. A room that feels alive instead of overly precious.

We opened in New Brunswick in 2013 and kept going. Every location has its own rhythm, but the goal is the same: make something worth coming back for.

Baristas, bakers, roasters, prep teams, managers, and the person who notices the oat milk is almost gone.

They are why the drink feels considered, the room feels welcoming, and regulars get greeted like regulars.

During COVID, cafés emptied and every plan became useless. So we made Indian-inspired donuts. Not because it was strategic. Because standing still felt worse.

We became delivery drivers, bakers, packers, note-writers, and amateur crisis managers. The donuts traveled well. So did the story.

Spoorthi turned the nostalgia of gulab jamun into a donut. It should have been confusing. Instead, it tasted obvious. A difficult season gave us one of our most unmistakable products.

American coffee culture already had plenty of beige, quiet, Eurocentric cafés. We did not feel a moral responsibility to add another one.

Hidden Grounds is our way of sharing where we come from without turning it into a lecture. Usually we put it in a cup.

It also carries our parents’ courage, sacrifice, and support. That part is serious. We would not be here without it.

New Brunswick, Jersey City, Hoboken, Brooklyn, and Manhattan.

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