There is a whole cafe culture behind a table this size: two cups, something small to eat, and no reason to hurry. The top is a single walnut slab left on its own outline, the bark edge undulating into a shape closer to a leaf than a circle, and the natural fissure crossing the grain has been stabilized with a thin fill rather than hidden away. Beneath it the base is a metal Eiffel Tower in a warm copper-bronze finish, its lattice pierced opening by opening, spreading into arches at the floor and tapering as it rises to meet the underside of the wood. The two stools come in different tones, one deep walnut and one honey-gold, each seat scooped out like a bowl. Slim black rods carry them, tied together by a triangular brace close to the floor, keeping the arrangement light around the mass of the timber. Put it by a kitchen window or at the end of a counter, and the first hour of the day starts to organize itself around it.