Saturday Business Spotlight: Guest House; From Popcorn Poppers to Community Pillars

[June 28, 2025]  Ethan Hoinacki’s earliest memories are laced with the scent of coffee.

“Grandpa always had coffee going,” he said. “It was the first thing you’d smell waking up at his house.” Even as a kid, Ethan would sneak sips from his mom’s mocha lattes—usually before or after school—developing a taste for the rich, sweet drinks that would one day change both his future and the city of Lincoln.

According to Ethan, in the early 1990s, long before Guest House existed, Lincoln actually had its own little corner of coffee culture. A woman downtown operated a small cart that served specialty drinks—espresso, mochas, lattes—the kind of menu items that were still new and exciting to small-town Illinois. “She was the first one I knew of serving lattes in Lincoln,” Ethan said. She and her husband later opened a full-fledged coffeehouse in a huge blue Victorian-style house on Keokuk Street, across from Lincoln College. His uncle took his mom there for her first mocha, and that was it—she was hooked.

“I’d steal sips out of my mom’s coffee. We’d go before school, and after school. She was pretty much addicted to mocha lattes,” Ethan said, laughing. “So, when you have a mocha, I think that's pretty much an introduction to specialty coffee.” Thus, his caffeinated journey began.

In high school, he bought a cheap espresso machine from Walmart and began experimenting with lattes and cappuccinos in his kitchen. “I didn’t know what I was doing,” he admitted. “They were probably terrible, but I liked what I was doing.” His love for coffee followed him into college, where caffeine became both fuel and comfort. “In college, coffee became a necessity. You know, staying up late, drinking coffee to stay awake to do your research papers, hanging out with friends.”

Ethan studied communications at Lincoln Christian University and took business electives on the side. He and Nicole married in 2010 and moved to northern Indiana, where they worked for a megachurch in a Catholic-heavy area near Notre Dame. Eventually, they moved back to Lincoln after the loss of Ethan’s grandmother. “Lincoln’s home,” he said. “It takes a village to raise a family, and we wanted to be near ours.”

Back in Lincoln, Ethan worked in financial services under his grandfather. It was during this time that a Peoria café sparked his curiosity—why did their coffee taste so different? He then discovered the answer: they roasted their own beans. That single detail sent Ethan down a rabbit hole.

“I found some groups online, and people were using popcorn poppers, and they were like, “Just start with a half a cup of beans.” And so he did. “I went to the thrift store and bought one because my wife said I wasn’t allowed to use ours—she hates coffee, by the way.” In 2014, he started home-roasting half a cup of beans at a time in his garage. He sourced beans from online suppliers, learned about processing methods, and taught himself how to roast using trial and error. He even admitted he burned batches “all the time” and continued saying: “There’s no such thing as failure—just figuring out one more way not to do something.”

Eventually, Ethan began dreaming bigger: what if he could sell his beans? At the time, Illinois’ cottage food laws made that illegal. He contacted then-state representative Tim Butler, who helped him push for a change. “Nobody had thought to include coffee on the list,” Ethan said. “They had bread and jam and cakes—but not coffee.” After nearly a year of stalled communication with the state, the law was finally amended. “We were the first people in Illinois to legally sell home-roasted coffee at a farmers market,” he said. “And that was a God thing. It was a miracle.”

Faith, Ethan said, has played a central role in every step of the journey. “None of this works without God,” he said.

That same year, an indoor farmers market opened at the Logan County Fairgrounds, and Ethan was one of the first vendors. He sold beans roasted with a one-pound roaster his in-laws had gifted him for his birthday. It was at that market that he met the owner of a local coffee shop called By The Bean. “He asked if I’d ever thought about owning a café,” Ethan said. “And I’m like no not really—but we took a leap of faith.”

Ethan and Nicole bought the business, but quickly learned they couldn’t keep the name due to a trademark conflict. They rebranded, hired a consultant to train them on drink prep, and offered the old staff the chance to reapply. “We worked 80-hour weeks,” Ethan said. “Open to close, six in the morning to nine at night. We were figuring it out as we went.” Eventually, they adjusted their hours, upgraded their equipment, and leaned into family. Pastries were made from scratch using inherited recipes—quiche from his grandmother, cinnamon rolls from his aunt, sugar cookies from his sister.

The name “Guest House” came later, inspired by a mission trip Ethan took in college. While visiting England, he stayed in a small guesthouse on a physician’s property. “It had a living area, a kitchen, everything,” he said. “We were guests, and every need was met. That stuck with me.” When brainstorming names for the new shop, he remembered that experience. “We want people to feel different when they leave—like they were known, welcomed, like they matter.”

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That mission carries through every part of Guest House. The shop doesn’t require a purchase to use the bathroom or stick around. It hosts knitting circles, chess nights, weddings, even funeral gatherings. “Coffee’s not hard to find,” Ethan said. “But a place where people can stay a while and feel known? That’s rare.”

They’ve continued to grow. As Ethan’s roasting capacity increased—first with a two-and-a-half pound roaster, then five—he eventually came into possession of a larger machine stored in someone’s basement in Bloomington. “That was a crazy story, too. Another—well, I would say—a God thing,” Ethan said. “A guy from my church said, ‘Hey, I used to work with this guy... he’s got a coffee roaster in his basement.’” They bought it and used it until fall of 2023, when a fire damaged the machine beyond repair.

Ethan posted in a roasting Facebook group, explaining what had happened and asking for help. “This guy private messages me and says, ‘Hey, I just placed an order to replace my roaster… I need to expand,’” Ethan said. “He was selling exactly what I was looking for. What’s wild is—he was a Christian too. He only lived 20 minutes away from my brother-in-law in Bozeman, Montana.” Ethan packed up his family, hitched a flatbed trailer to their Jeep, and drove across the country to retrieve the machine. “God can use that tragedy, that loss—what could potentially have really consumed the whole building—but we needed a bigger roaster, and we found it… You can’t make that up.”

Now, the orange roaster at Guest House can handle 11-pound batches. They roast specialty-grade beans—less than 2% of the world’s coffee production—sourced from Peru, Brazil, Mexico, and beyond. Every batch is cupped and profiled, every decaf bean processed naturally without chemicals. “Even our decaf is Swiss water processed,” Ethan said. “No shortcuts.”

The Hoinackis run the shop together, along with help from their three kids: Sadie, Oliver, and Emmalin. “They think it’s fun—for now,” Ethan said with a smile. “They help fold pastry boxes, clean, paint walls. They love feeling responsible.” Each child even has their own mini office upstairs. “I wouldn’t trade that for anything,” he said. “Letting them be part of this—it matters.”

Nicole, who once hated the smell of coffee, has grown into her own role at the shop. She helps with scheduling and now roasts beans herself. “Sometimes I’ll ask, ‘Want me to roast tonight?’ and she’ll say, ‘No, I need to get away from the kids—I’m going to roast,’” Ethan said. “It’s peaceful in its own way.”

Even Sadie’s arrival into the world is tied into the community story of Guest House. Diagnosed with a dangerous mass during pregnancy, she was born early and rushed to Lurie Children’s Hospital in Chicago. While the family waited, hundreds of people prayed. “We put up a blog,” Ethan said. “People were logging on from all around the world. Some of them didn’t even know us. But they prayed for her anyway.”

“That whole experience was a miracle,” he said. “We didn’t know if she’d survive. But she did. God made a way.”

The support from Ethan’s church community has been just as foundational as the bricks and mortar. “We go to Lincoln Christian Church, and if there’s ever a prayer request, I can get on the app and just say, ‘Hey, I need a prayer for something specific,’ and I’ll share it,” Ethan said. “Then it gets sent to all the pastors. It gets sent to the elders. I’ve had some of those people reach out to me, take me out to lunch if I’m going through something or need covered in prayer. Yeah—super supportive.”

Guest House Coffee has changed a lot over the years—from burnt garage beans to locally famous pastries, from farmers markets to fire trucks on roasting day. But its heartbeat has stayed the same: people first, coffee second.

And it’s still growing, one cup at a time.

[Sophia Larimore]

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