The Ember Cups are made for the first coffee of the day, the one you drink standing at the window. Each is shaped by hand and glazed in ember and ash, warm on the outside, smooth and pale inside.

The workshop sits at the end of a gravel road, in a building that used to be a dairy. There is no sign on the door. Inside, it smells of wood oil and coffee, and the radio plays quietly while six people do one thing at a time, carefully.

Slow by design

Every piece is made in small batches. Materials are chosen by hand and left to rest before they are worked; parts are fitted, checked and fitted again. It is not the fastest way to make anything, and that is exactly the point.

Look closely and you see the decisions: an edge rounded just enough to feel soft in the hand, a joint you can only find with your fingertips, a finish that will look better in ten years than it does today.

Built to stay

They sit well in two hands, keep the heat a little longer than you expect, and go into the dishwasher without complaint. Sold as a pair, because mornings are better shared.

When a piece leaves the workshop it carries a small card, signed by the person who finished it. It is a promise, really: that it was made to be used every day, and to be repaired rather than replaced.