From espresso to prosecco: Why more cafes are doubling as wine bars

Most days at 4pm, the staff at Commonfolk cafe in Frankston are running a mop over the floors before closing for the day. Fridays are different: bags of coffee beans at the counter are hidden away and replaced with wine bottles. Dedicated nighttime chef Joel Wilson heads into the kitchen to fire up the hibachi grill and prepare beef skewers with nori aioli. The music flips from easy listening to hip hop and old-school jazz. Franga Nights is under way.

“We were waiting around for someone to do a neighbourhood wine bar in Frankston,” says owner Sam Keck. “Then we thought, why don’t we do it? There’s nothing like this around here.”

Just as in daytime, the customers are a snapshot of the suburb. “A lot of women have been coming, thanking us for creating a space that’s not a beer hall or pub full of blokes watching the footy,” says Keck. “We have dates and knock-off drinks, people in business attire with lanyards around their necks, smashing a couple of bottles of wine.”

Frankston local Sonia Lloyd, 55, has become an instant regular at Commonfolk’s evenings. “I would never walk into a pub with a big screen, and I avoid sports bars like the plague,” she says. “I feel very blessed that they are doing this.”

Commonfolk is one of an increasing number of cafes staying open after dark several nights a week, expanding their offering to give neighbourhoods more options.

‘I would never walk into a pub with a big screen and I avoid sports bars like the plague. I feel very blessed that they are doing this.’

Franga Nights regular Sonia Lloyd

After five years running Matilda in the eastern suburb of Mont Albert – part of Melbourne’s former dry zone – Jacinta Price has launched happy hours and dinners at weekends.

“We’re a French-themed cafe so it aligns with our Euro feel,” she says. “There isn’t anywhere in the suburb where people can pop down for a wine and charcuterie.”

Matilda is in a quiet, leafy spot, overlooking a grassy verge. “It feels quaint, you’re transported somewhere.”

Price’s customers have long been asking for spritzes in the sunshine or a cosy wine inside, but it’s taken a year and a half for a liquor licence to come through.

And it took just as long to work the numbers to ensure it was viable. Price is betting on people being ready to spend when they go out in the evenings.

“There’s a mindset shift at night,” she says. “People will pay $18 for a glass of wine and not flinch, but they would not accept a 50-cent increase on a coffee.”

Common wisdom has it that cafe owners are paying rent 24/7 so trading longer is a smart way to make the most of a sunk cost.

“It’s not that simple,” says Keck. “You’re already paying occupancy costs, so [yes] there’s less risk in taking a swing. But opening the doors has its own costs in staffing and goods, so the concept needs to stand on its own two feet.”

Some of the ideas created by cafes include Ophelia’s $20 pasta nights in Westgarth, which coincide with cheap Tuesday movie tickets at the nearby cinema. The nights proved so popular that the offer is now extended to Thursday night, too.

At Raffy’s in Clifton Hill, it’s about expanding a community cafe with evening eats and activities, such as DJ nights, art openings and singles gatherings. Out of town in Meeniyan, South Gippsland, Mahob at Moo’s runs a broad menu by day and leans into the owners’ Cambodian heritage at night.

In Fitzroy, Lumen People has reframed what it might mean to be a Melbourne cafe by elevating its daytime offering and opening for nights as well. The eatery charges $7 for a latte and offers restaurant-quality food daily and four nights a week, using boutique produce more frequently seen in hatted venues.

By day that might be poached quince and custard, or handmade pasta. Dinner might be roasted cabbage with olive cream and lamb jus. Prices are on par across both menus: smaller dishes in the mid-$20s, larger around $35.

“The cafe industry is stuck,” says owner Emma Sheahan. “There’s a disconnect between what things cost and what most cafes charge for it. We are an antithesis to that. We have the best coffee, bread, produce and wine, and we function like a mini restaurant. We charge what things are worth no matter the time of day.”

It is easier for Lumen People to make money in the evenings. “Our cost of goods during the day can be up to 45 per cent of turnover because we use premium milk and coffee beans,” says Sheahan.

At night, it’s closer to 25 per cent of turnover because of higher sales margins on alcohol. Labour costs are lower at night, too, because it’s faster to pour a wine than make a flat white.

That discrepancy has caused some tough discussions with partner in business and life Marichi Clarke.

“Should we even open by day? We joke about it,” says Sheahan. “But serving coffee is our romance and our dream; it’s what we have a combined 50 years of experience to be good at.”

If the day-to-night stretch works financially, it’s a win for both the business and the community.

“I love that I now have a place I can invite friends and know that they’ll be impressed,” says Frankston’s Sonia Lloyd. “It’s so comfy, there’s an unusual and interesting wine selection, and the share plates are beautiful. It’s a big level up for Frankston.”