Lady Gaggia or "God save the crema"

A while back, we purchased a home espresso maker - the Gaggia Evolution.  It met all the criteria in terms of being Italian-made (and who knows espresso better?), features, size and design.  The price point wasn't too bad, but it was definitely not cheap.

We brought it home, unwrapped it, watched the video on how to use it...and then promptly ignored it for 4 months.  We were scared to death - the instructions were so precise and so daunting:

• "Tamp the ground espresso with exactly 30 lbs of force and then twist the tamper to polish the top precisely."
• "Dark (or light) splattering espresso being dispensed indicates you have not tamped the coffee correctly - and your crema will be imperfect."
• "To make another beverage after steaming, you must bring the boiler back down to the correct brewing temperature."

Holy Mother of God.

I had performance anxiety without ever turning the machine on.  I was stressing over the quality of my crema without ever making any.

Recently, I had a serious talk with myself and decided that I will not be bested by any mere kitchen appliance, even if it is made in Europe and cost more than a car payment.

So, I steeled my resolved, girded my loins, and shook it all about... oh no - wait. Wrong synapse.

Anyway - I watched the all of the instructional videos again, this time taking copious notes on EXACTLY not to blow up my kitchen or this expensive piece of Italian ingenuity.

I was going to conquer my Gaggia machine - not the other way around.

Day One:

Thusly girded and resolved, I approached the machine the following morning - notes in hand - determined to make myself a capuccino.

As it turned out, attempting this in a pre-caffeinated condition proved to be extremely unwise.

After about 30 minutes and multiple unsuccessful attempts to fill the double-shot holder, press the coffee at exactly 30 lbs of pressure, twisting to polish the shot, and attempting to insert the actual coffee holder and handle into the machine which - for whatever reason - decided not to fit....I ended up with espresso grinds everywhere.

Covering the counter, all over the sink, clogging sponges and paper towels, in my hair, on the dogs - it was pathetic.

I finally gave up and made a regular pot of coffee.

Then Brian woke up and was also unable to get it to fit in.

So, we decided to try the single shot basket - which, low and behold, FIT!

Re-energized with purpose, we began brewing espresso, a cup at a time.

• The first - bitter and dark, with no crema.  
• The second - too light, almost tasteless.  
• The third - a hint of crema, but not the best
• and so on....

By the time we then figured out how to use the steaming wand and the frothing pitcher, we had killed nearly an hour with next to no caffeine in our systems.

When we finally emerged - victorious - cups of adequately brewed espresso with a respectable amount of crema blended with imperfectly-steamed milk - we lifted our now-tepid beverages to our lips and savored the barely warm, nutty darkness of a well-made but lukewarm capuccino.

Huzzah!

Day Two:

Yesterday's humiliation is but a distant bad dream.

I arose this morning, stretched and yawned, and headed downstairs to the kitchen where I fearlessly switched on the Gaggia.  As the machine heated up, I very deftly measured and tamped the espresso into the brewing arm, polished the espresso with a professional flourish, and popped it into the waiting machine.

I brewed, I steamed.  The milk was hot, the foam perfectly formed of tiny bubbles.  My crema was heavenly, the espresso a rich, dark nutty brown.

I ventured to my home office to begin my day.  I sipped - I sighed.  I considered photographing my successful beverage.

Drained to the foamy dregs, I decided to make another.

It was a delight! Oh the freedom - no more car trips to pay $4-5 for a milky drink that is tepid by the time you return home.  No more bland, watery coffee in the morning.

Oh joy!  Oh rapture!

Brian woke up - saw that I had finished my second.  "Did I want another he asked?"

I did!  I did.

He returned shortly with another creamy creation.  Yum!

A few minutes later, I realized my error.

While I would previously sit and consume cup after cup of regular coffee over the course of any given morning, I had just drunk three capuccinos in the space of about an hour and a half.

I was WIRED.

I was picking up radio in my head, I was so buzzed.

I envisioned an army of cymbal monkeys whirling around my cranium.

So.  Lesson learned.

The funny part was, Brian was similarly zipped up - our great friend L telephoned and at one point told him, "Jesus - hang up  - you're babbling!"

 From the depths of failure to the dizzying heights (and I do mean dizzying) of success, once again - moderation wins the day.

God, I hope I can sleep tonight.