Disclosure: Meeple Mountain received a free copy of this product in exchange for an honest, unbiased review. This review is not intended to be an endorsement.
Cracking wise about my two hobbies in life—coffee and board games—a friend asked which I would keep if I had to choose. Without hesitation and with unexpected confidence I chose the joe. What can I say? I love the stories behind single-origin beans. I enjoy the ten minutes it takes to make my morning cup. And my afternoon cup. I love hand-grinding the beans. I go to sleep at night anticipating that quiet hour, welcomed by a warm and silent friend. I don’t play board games every day, but every day involves a mug of something.
I’ve long wanted to enjoy a game about coffee. Coffee Roaster is appealing, but I’m not a solo gamer (even if it is Saashi). Coffee Traders is probably lovely, but I don’t have that kind of time on my hands. Coffee Rush is all sorts of pretty, but I can’t see myself liking a game where social media likes are victory points. I had high hopes for Fika, but I felt a distasteful disconnect with the strange specificity of the mechanics and game choices.
What I really needed was a barrel-shaped furball and a bit of whimsy. Actually, I needed my family to want to play. My coffee hobby is the solo affair. In our household, board games are for sharing. Enter the capybaras of Café Baras. Despite being the largest rodent on earth, I doubt the capybara really likes coffee—as if BMI determines beverage preference. Regardless, I’m willing to suspend my disbelief for this playful KTBG title.
Wholly unoriginal
Multi-use cards have a delightful built-in tension. In Café Baras, the top two-thirds of the card plays as a feature for your café: a beverage item, food item, or an element of style. Chief among the details is the icon at the top, one of six that might satisfy a customer’s desires. Speaking of the customers, the bottom third is a set of four icons representing a customer’s appetites. Three icons are edible, while the fourth is one of three decorative clocks—markers of style.
Player turns consist of playing one card from a hand of four. Cards either enter the player’s café after paying a modest coin cost or they hit the table as customers, drawing in one coin for each icon satisfied by previously installed cards.
There are quirks. Some cards introduce a one-off ability, others a lasting effect. Some score in conjunction with other cards. On the customer side, a heart near an icon indicates the customer is a _______ lover, willing to pay one coin for each icon of that type in the café.
Most importantly, the aim of the game is to generate regulars—customers whose icons are completely satisfied by the player’s café. Not only do these customers generate income, they act as the timer.
I know what you’re thinking: Bob, is there a collection of public objectives? Why yes, five cards indicate common goals achievable by all at the game’s end. As far as I can see, there is nothing entirely unique about Café Baras. This game could be about anything, really.
Wholly capybaras, Batman!
But Café Baras is not about anything. It’s about coffee and very round rodents. Roberta Taylor (Creature Comforts, Maple Valley) and the development team went with the absurd pun. I am forever grateful. This is hardly an economic juggernaut. While the drinks, snacks, and aesthetic features are all quite real, the game has no interest in where they came from, how they are made, transported, prepared, or served.
And yet, there are lovely decisions here. The light economy is still a tight economy. The coin flow is snug enough that every game includes moments of sacrifice—tossing off a useful café card due to an empty change purse, for instance. Because the game is a race to three regulars, the tension grows with each passing round. Cafés become increasingly capable of serving numerous customers, creating the agony of holding reality and possibility in the scales.
The best part is that a kid can enjoy these cards, which is good because the illustrations (from Cindy Monroy) are equally playful. Café Baras is great for the family. During our first play, our youngest was fixed on building a café to match specific cards in her hand. She ditched that inefficiency in the second play and has broadened her strategy with every subsequent try. She’s not quite ready to balance all five public objectives with the speculative possibilities of the cafe, but she’s been enjoying herself since the beginning.
At two players, Café Baras clocks in at less than a half-hour. At four it pushes an hour, but with each additional play and increased familiarity the exit ramp appears faster and faster.
Ironically (I hope), even my comments are unoriginal. This small box is just a solid play with an exceedingly friendly face. Thus far, I’ve not identified a failsafe strategy or any predictable paths to victory. The economy is more tactical and the outcomes are heavily influenced by the public objectives. There are customers of every flavor, but those objectives make all the difference. I don’t feel compelled to invent superlatives. I just like it.
If I must complain, I choose the card market as a target. Though the rules make no provision, I would allow the blind draw as a fifth option. Sometimes the four available cards lack a proper magnetism. The blind draw is secretive and a little exciting. I think the game can bear the load. And speaking of cards, what money KTBG had left after developing the gameplay they poured into the card stock. No one riffles the entire Café Baras deck. No one.
Roll out the barrel
Café Baras is a low-key winner for the family. I’ll not say it’s entirely unique. I’ll not say it’s the best order-fulfillment option on the market. It’s silly fun with a bit of bite—charming and efficient. The tasting notes are right and it’s earned its place in the rotation. Plus, I love a game that makes me want to bring my own mug to the table.
Add Comment