Hey, make your own espresso

New superautomatic machines do everything except drink it. True coffee lovers seek perfection the old way

By David Elkins

Until recently I was an inveterate and unreformed coffee drinker. I couldn't start my day without a cup of java, preferably an espresso, black straight up, no sugar. About six months ago, I changed my ways for no better reason than to see if could do it. I have yet to come across an article that says coffee is out and out bad for you and I've found several that wax poetic over the benefits. I went cold turkey. Overnight I switched to green tea, later to Earl Grey and, most recently, to a remarkable new development in the tea world, Earl Grey Green Tea. After a week of horrific headaches, my vision cleared. I still feel the same way as I did when I drank five or six cups a day and have stayed on the tea wagon since.

For the purposes of this article, though, I felt I needed a shot of espresso to put me in the proper frame of mind so I got out one of my three machines (I know, I know). The one I chose was a Krupps Gusto, which I found about a year and a half ago in one of those Big Lot shops in the US that features end lots at truly stunning discounts. After rummaging around among the bits and pieces other customers had removed from boxes (why do people do that?), I managed to assemble a complete unit � the price $40, no more no less, a deal. I had doubts it would make decent coffee but to my surprise and delight, it does. I bought it to replace a $365 Gaggia I had for six years that had suddenly stopped heating the water. The squat black Krupps isn't nearly as handsome as the gleaming white Gaggia, nor does it have a hot pad on top to keep cups warm. But the coffee it produces is first rate.

My third espresso machine � and in my view the best � is a Saeco, which I keep at the office. I paid around $400 for it three years ago when I calculated I was spending enough on outside hits of espresso at a nearby caf� to pay for it in less than six months. It's a chrome and stainless steel beauty and has a system in the basket that tamps the coffee automatically. This saves about half the mess and eliminates the need for a separate tamper, which is usually coated with a layer of finely ground coffee that typically ends up on my shirt.

GOING AUTOMATIC
Because ours is an office of coffee lovers, several years ago we tried an automatic espresso maker also by Saeco. As long as you kept the tank topped up with water and added ground coffee to it as needed, it did the rest � even dumping the grounds into a container for easy disposal. The coffee it produced was passable.

It's since been relegated to a cupboard because, the truth is, even automatic machines require a good deal of love and care of the kind that only an individual, never a group, can give. The thing never seemed to work properly. The frustration was palpable.

Now there's a new breed of automatics on the market dubbed superautomatics. Saeco's new model burr grinds the coffee and drops it into a piston that compresses it and even injects a small amount of hot water before the brewing cycle begins, said to enhance flavour. Pressurized hot water is introduced, the coffee flows into a waiting heated cup and the used grounds slide off into a container for later disposal. The machines can, it's said, make everything from a stunningly strong half-ounce ristretto to an eight-ounce along� or americanno. They're digital and, according to the manufacturers, more reliable than older automatics. They retail for between $500 and $2,500. Mark Prince, the senior editor of www.coffeegeek.com, told the New York Times, "[the new superautomatics] can deliver a better shot of espresso that maybe 60% or more of caf�s out there..."

Yet another recent development are machines that use coffee pods. The premeasured sealed packets are simply dropped into a slot and the machine does the rest, even ejecting used pods for easy disposable. The pods can also be used in conventional home espresso machines. The pods are easy, yes, and in some cases the coffee's not half bad � but they're for sissies.

Half the fun for a true espresso aficionado is fooling around with different kinds of coffee, grinds and machines to try to produce the perfect cup. I've been trying for years and have made a decent cup or two.

Chasing the perfect cup
There are three elements to the perfect cup of espresso. The heart � the smooth, thick liquid that comes out first � the body, and the crema � the golden top layer. All must be mastered.

The coffee: There are dozens of different coffees and roasts. Keep trying them until you find one you admire.
The grind: The old $30 models with spinning blades are out. You need a burr grinder to produce identical grains. The fineness of the grain determines how quickly the water passes through. Finding just the right one can take days, months, even years.
The water: The purer the better. The machine must heat it to between 92°C and 96°C.
The pressure: Should be 15 bars, as expressed in machine literature.
Foaming milk: Relax, it's far easier than they say. The barista I bought my first machine from demonstrated and said it would take me 40 years to reach his standard.
Try 40 minutes and two litres of 2%. The milk has to be cold. Hold the nozzle just below the surface for frothy cappuccinos, toward the bottom for lattes.
The trick: Every component must be just right to make the perfect cup. Your mood, the weather and the altitude seem to play key roles.