We make sixty a day. We could make more. Here is why we don't.
The dough for the cardamom knots is started the evening before, at about nine, once the last of the day's sourdough is out. It is an enriched dough, which is a polite way of saying there is a lot of butter in it, and it needs a long, cool rest to be worth eating.
Tom grinds the cardamom by hand in the morning. Pre-ground cardamom tastes like the packet it came in. Fresh, it smells like citrus and pepper and something floral that nobody has ever quite managed to name for us.
Sixty is the number because that is how many fit on the two trays that go into the oven at 6:15, and because by the time they are gone the room has changed. The morning regulars have left, the light has moved off the front tables, and the people coming in want lunch, not a bun. We would rather sell out than sell something that has been sitting under a cloche for four hours.
If you want to be sure, come before eleven. If you want to be very sure, come on a Tuesday, when the roast is on and people are distracted by the smell of the beans.