The designer behind Slayer Espresso built a café in Kyoto and it feels exactly like you hope it would

Sunny George in Kyoto feels like the kind of café that can only exist after years of careful thinking about materials, touch, ritual, tools, and the quiet ways design shapes human experience. Even from a distance, it reads as considered rather than planned, and lived in rather than styled.

The person behind it is Christopher Flechtner, the industrial designer whose work helped define Slayer Espresso. To me, Slayer remains the most beautiful espresso machine in the world, not because of how it looks alone, but because of how it makes me feel before coffee even arrives.

If you’ve ever stood in front of a Slayer, you’ve already met Christopher. You’ve felt warmth where the industry usually gives you cold metal, and personality where most machines settle for anonymity.

Christopher now lives in Kyoto. His life there is quieter and more rooted. Sunny George grew out of that life. Not as a concept café or a décor exercise, but as a suggestion for how people can gather, slow down, and share time.

Chris was very generous with his time. We went really deep. Into metalsmithing and bicycles, to punk defiance and restraint, to Kyoto, family, and ritual.

I’m proud of this interview. About how thoughtful, direct, and deeply human it is.

For readers discovering you for the first time, how do you describe who you are and what you do?

I am a maker and an industrial designer but not in the typical sense. Typically an industrial designer designs a product to be made in the tens of thousands. My projects tend to be small batch manufacturing in limited numbers.

Making the first prototype with my own hands is really important to me and the creative process. The success and failure you experience first hand really informs the design process and guides you to make the best product you can.

I have a deep passion for designing high end furniture and lighting using honest natural materials. My goal is to always design heirlooms, not landfill. This is why when the start-up team at SLAYER contacted me I felt it was a great fit even though I was fairly ignorant when it came to the specialty coffee world.

What experiences before your time at Slayer shaped the way you see form, materials, and the purpose of an object?

My undergrad studies were in metal smithing and jewelry design. While at Massachusetts College of Art, I also worked for a small production handmade bicycle shop where I painted the frames.

While painting I learned how to design, machine, and weld frames myself. To this day I continue to design and fabricate bicycles.

When I went off to grad school my focus was on furniture design and fabrication. I went to Cranbrook Academy of Art in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan which has a wonderfully rich history of craft and design thanks to the talents of Eames and Saarinan. Fun fact, this is where Charles and Ray Eames first met and fell in love.

For me, designing and building a product that is not only beautiful but highly utilitarian is very important. I have never been one to get excited about creating static objects. Human interaction is a key driver in my desire to create.

I have never been interested in plastics and composite. This is most likely due to my hands on experience in the bicycle world where we firmly believed that “steel is real!” and we jokingly referred to carbon fiber as “carpet fiber.”

When you first looked at espresso machines, what struck you as missing, both visually and conceptually?

My first project in the coffee world was engineering and fabricating a couple of prototype Swift grinder tampers for La Marzocco in Seattle. They were super slick mirror polished aluminum columns to be displayed at a trade show in Milan.

This project forced me to explore the coffee world deeply for the first time. Before this coffee was a Dunkin’ Donuts regular with cream and sugar.

I remember not being very impressed by the simple boxy forms that contemporary espresso machines and grinders looked like. I honestly was not interested in the coffee world much because of this. Nothing was moving, nothing was emotional.

As you began imagining what Slayer could become, what idea or question guided your earliest decisions?

When I started on SLAYER it was a pretty wide open design brief that really tapped into my punk attitude as a young man. I have always been one to go against the grain and with SLAYER, they encouraged that.

By this time I had been working in the high-end furniture and lighting world for a decade. The existing landscape was lacking in real, honest materials and relied mostly on stainless sheet metal and injection molded parts that the barista engaged with. I thought how sad that must be to stand at a machine and touch these controls that were completely void of any soul.

When I was a kid, my grandfather had this really cool old monkey wrench made of forged steel with inlayed and riveted wood handle sides. I loved its presence, its heft, and how the wood had worn down so that the rivets and its surrounding frame was now proud of the wood. You could imagine the decades of hands on work that this tool was a key part of.

I thought, wouldn’t it be nice if the barista could have their experience elevated by the same materials. This is where the SLAYER brew actuator was born. The steam handles came a little later and were inspired by a stiletto dagger handle further adding to the attitude of the SLAYER.

As a start-up with not a lot of resources, making decisions that minimized tooling costs was key. The iconic X was born from the idea of creating one part to be used on both sides of the machine.

The machine had to be a dream for technicians to work on and that meant having easy access to extract heating elements and tanks. The negative space of the X design allows just that. Easily remove the main side panel and you have direct access to most of what needs maintenance on an espresso machine.

People sometimes refer to the design as a steam-punk design probably due to the metal finishes and pronounced fasteners but I think the machine is much more refined than that label implies. To be honest, I have never been a fan of steam-punk designs because most of the time they lack refinement and restraint which I feel are important in developing a design that is timeless and does not become dated.

As mentioned before, I was pretty ignorant to espresso machine design and never cared to delve into the history of espresso. Some may think this a handicap but for me the ignorance was a strength. It allowed me to design without constraint or worries of upsetting anyone.

Anything went and that is why I honestly feel the machine was so disruptive when it first came out. It didn’t just scream “look at me!”, it screamed “I’m a serious machine that makes kick ass coffee!”

People recognise Slayer for the way it feels as much as the way it looks. What experience did you want baristas to have when they touched, handled, and worked with the machine?

That monkey wrench was a key influencer when it came to the feel of SLAYER. The choice of wood for all the barista touch points added a warmth and softness to the machine and injected it with soul. Not to mention it was out of the ordinary when it came to the coffee world.

Wood requires a certain level of care and respect and that was something we wanted baristas to understand and embrace. I like to talk about the “ritual” of espresso making and the SLAYER allowed this to be showcased in a new and exciting way.

Making fifty second extractions on the SLAYER is far from the espresso the world was familiar with. These wooden controls and movements required to extract the perfect shot have people salivating before they even have coffee in hand.

We eat with our eyes first and a machine that screams seriousness and a barista moving with beautiful flow and precision have you expecting the best.

When you are deep in a project, what does your design process actually look like?

Since utility and user experience is so important to me, I first do whatever is necessary to put myself in the end users shoes as much as possible. The human factor and how the “ritual” of the process looks, and most importantly feels, is key.

For an espresso machine this means not only looking at things from the baristas perspective, but also the customers on the opposite side of the machine. The measurements and angles of the body are chosen to increase the customers view of the process and an opportunity to connect with the barista. That relationship is key and it’s why we have always made low profile machines with open group heads in plain sight.

Getting back to the design process, lots of ideation exercises are required to dig deep. For instance, when I moved back to Seattle from Tokyo to design the Steam machine I was faced with a great challenge.

How do I create a design that rivals the original SLAYERs iconic design. I listened to the years of feedback we had received. The original machine is unapologetically masculine and therefore not always a welcome addition to a cafe space. I wanted to address this with the next design.

When my pencil hit paper we already had a clear idea of the machinery inside the machine so I had specific constraints to work with. For months I had a morning routine of ideation sketches where I would work on top of a printed worksheet comprised of a dozen side profiles of all the hard parts we needed.

On top of these I sketched every possible configuration I could imagine. It wasn’t till I drew the first cantilevered profile that I felt like I was onto something new and interesting.

The X consists of many hard corners so to soften this new design I worked to remove many of them but still retain some. It still needed a bit of hard edge attitude but flow was missing and therefore something I really wanted to explore.

A mechanical drawing can only allow you to see so much so once I had a top and side view and I felt confident I was heading in the right direction, I cut out an aluminum armature and started to apply clay.

The wing of the Steam was developed just like an automobile body. I could have just designed a shape in the computer but without the tactile life size nature of an actual sculpt, it would have been lacking in many ways.

Using a unique epoxy clay I was able to fine tune the design with grinders, hand files and bondo. After lots of primer and wet sanding it was ready for a 3D scan and placement into our solid works model.

Was it an involved process? Totally! Was it necessary? Yup! And it’s exactly why I used the same process to create the simplified wing of the Steam 1 Group machine.

What was the moment you knew the design of the machine was complete?

Haha, when we needed to have it finished for the trade show! Honestly, a good design is never 100% finished. If you wait for 100% the project will never make it to market.

There is always something to tweak but that’s what is exciting as a designer. You need to think of product design as a hot rod builder. You make a kick ass product to blow the pants off the competition but you still want to tweak, modify and massage the machine to be even better.

A true hotrod is never completely finished.

Looking back now, what detail on the Slayer still feels most personal to you, and why?

The brew actuator without a doubt. It introduced a new method of brewing but most importantly a new way of looking at designing a better human interface with materials that people desire to touch.

After designing tools and equipment for so many years, what drew you to opening a coffee shop?

Ah, good question. My wife is an amazing chef and baker. She has been teaching plant-based cooking for years as well as catering. She loves the people connection that comes with crafting and serving delicious, healthy food.

A couple of years ago we met a great coffee craftsman who was getting burnt out working at a high volume cafe pumping out countless drinks a day. I lent him one of my BIRD prototypes and asked him to explore its possibilities.

A month later we got together and he enthusiastically shared with me how the BIRD was able to rekindle his love and passion for great coffee. We talked lots about his interest and knowledge of roasting and his desire to venture out and do something on his own.

Yohei, our Master of Coffee, had the passion and knowledge for amazing coffee. Junko had the passion and knowledge of amazing food. I had the passion and knowledge of amazing equipment, space design, and furniture and lighting design.

Putting our talents together was a no brainer. We started developing our concept and searching for space. It started taking shape and really came together when we found the perfect location at what we consider the line between tourist town and local community.

SUNNY GEORGE, our sons name is sunshine in Japanese, and my grandfathers name was George. Unfortunately I never met him, he died when my mom was 16.

We live by the idea that we vote with our dollar so every decision we have had to make and continue to make each day are thought of as a way to make a positive impact. The cafe is fully vegan but not advertised as such.

The V word is triggering to so many so we steer clear and simply talk about our offerings as low impact, friendly, and healthy. The space itself is designed to encourage connection.

Kyoto is such a magnet for international and domestic tourists. Our communal table was designed to commingle. All the time we see strangers making connections with those next to or across from them.

Our location is also a great hub for locals and we have many regulars we have become close with. Every one of us has an interesting story to share and at SG we love to hear about them.

In an age of head down device attachment our moto is to “Look up and say hello!”. We don’t offer wifi, we don’t encourage remote work. We encourage unplugging and engaging with the coffee, the food, and most importantly, the people.

When someone walks into Sunny George, before they order anything, what do you hope they understand about your approach to coffee and hospitality?

Born from many roots, grounded in Kyoto. We’re a small team from different corners of the world, brought together by a shared love of coffee, food, and craft.

Sunny George is a reflection of that journey, bright, easygoing, and quietly complex. Roasted in Kyoto, made for mornings anywhere.

Our approach to coffee is a bit out of the ordinary for Kyoto and was very intentional. We offer five different coffees, all single dosed, and served a number of ways.

Espresso on the SLAYER and Immersion on the BIRD. No pour overs at SG. The BIRD is ideal for cafe work flow because it is not nearly as high maintenance as a manual pour over and gives you a brew somewhere between pour over and espresso.

People love how bright and clean our coffees are. We take the extra step to roast some beans a couple of different ways depending on the brewing method.

We use Weber EG1 and KEY grinders. The processes we use are not fast but they are considered and methodical. Another way in which we encourage our customers to slow down and enjoy something delicious.

We don’t offer matcha because every cafe in Kyoto has it on the menu. Plus we value quality so to source a great local matcha and then dilute it with a bunch of milk and most likely sugar is just blasphemy.

As a more interesting alternative we serve Yomogi. Yomogi is mugwart, a medicinal herb here in Asia.

Ours comes from our good friends, the Yomogi Stand in Tokyo. They have a very special relationship with yomogi farmers in a UNESCO world heritage site where the yomogi is grown.

It is then fermented and roasted to perfection before being ground into a fine powder. What is also wonderful about yomogi is that it is naturally caffeine free.

The space also serves as a showroom for my wears and skills. I designed, and in many instances, fabricated the space.

All the lighting and furniture were fabricated here in Kyoto by our amazing woodshop we love so much, +veve, or by myself in my friends metal shop.

The shikui, Japanese plaster, is done by me and is rather unconventional. Even the stone around the espresso counter was done by me.

Cutting and polishing stone is not a skill I ever thought I would need to learn.

www.sunnygeorge.coffee

This is why I want to go to Sunny George

It’s pointless comparing a Slayer to other espresso machines. In the same way you don’t compare an Eames Lounger to other pieces of furniture. You can list materials, prices, and features if you want, but you miss the point. Some objects move past their category. They don’t compete. They stand on their own. Slayer sits there for me. I believe it always will.

That’s why meeting the person who created it meant so much. Slayer didn’t come from chasing benchmarks or reacting to what already existed. It came from a way of thinking about materials, touch, and how objects live alongside people.

Sunny George feels like that same thinking, carried into a different form. Not something designed to be compared, but something designed to exist quietly and honestly on its own terms.

That’s why I want to go.