Little Cauldron Cafe

Halloween, all year round. No timers. No fail states. No way to lose. Just twelve spooky rooms, a cauldron in each one, and as long as you like to potter about in them. A pastel goth little world where you brew potions instead of coffee. BREW SOMETHING LOVELY Drop ghost berry, bat whisker and pumpkin spice into the main cafe cauldron and pull out a Witch's Latte. Try quill nib cocoa, moth dust and ember clove in the Reading Corner and you have a Marginalia Brew. There are one hundred and eighty one potions waiting, and every single one of them is a discovery rather than a test. TWELVE ROOMS, TWELVE MOODS The main cafe. The Reading Corner. The Greenhouse. The Cellar. The Attic Loft. Each room has its own palette, its own ingredients and its own charm to collect when you finish it. Complete one and the next door opens. A JOURNAL OF EVERY DRINK Every potion you brew is written into your recipe journal, illustrated, and yours to favourite. The journal is the quiet pleasure of this game. Some people finish it. Most people just like turning the pages. BOO LIVES HERE Boo is the resident ghost. They greet you at the door, they peek over the edge of a finished drink, and there are hats and small things you can buy them with the coins you earn. They ask for nothing and they are very pleased you came. YOUR OWN COZY CABIN Earn coins, then spend them. Plushies for the cafe rooms, hats for Boo, and a cabin of your own where you can place every single thing exactly where you want it. PEEK A BOO A gentle matching game hidden inside the cafe, with a different deck for every room. Eight pairs to find, no clock, no score, and as the game itself puts it: no timer, no losing, take all the time you like. FOUR SOUNDS TO SETTLE INTO Fireplace. Rain. Night Watch. Storm's Edge. Mix them how you like and leave them running. PAY ONCE. THAT IS ALL. No adverts. No in app purchases. No energy meters. Nothing that punishes you for not turning up. You buy the game, and then the game is yours. For everyone whose spooky season never really ends.