Solving the contemporary coffee conundrum
Words & images © Paul Ransom
Here in Melbourne, espresso rules. The city’s cafe culture is oft cited as evidence that it – and Australia more broadly – is the coffee capital. Sure, we do instant, filter and cold drip but, ever since waves of Italian migrants illuminated us decades ago, we have been devotees of high pressure extraction. This is why so many of us use stovetop percolators or home espresso machines for our morning brew.
Indeed, our passion for a good pour even extends to the afternoon. Case in point: following an all-nighter and a long sleep-in on a friend’s sofa, I politely requested one of his homemade specialties. (He makes particularly velvety lattes using his inexpensive, compact coffee machine. As an avowed black fan, these luscious concoctions are the singular exception to my no milk habit.)
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he complied. Topped up the water tank, prepared a fresh grind. All good…except…ah, shit. The machine isn’t working. It’s powering up, heating up, rumbling through its routine, but nothing is coming through.
This prompts a few minutes of frantic fiddling. On/off. Check this, check that. Is the steamer working? We tick all the obvious boxes but…no go. Damn.
“Well, it is old,” he sighs.
True, his machine is ancient by today’s update-crazy standards. And anyway, don’t we all know that domestic espresso machines are designed to fail after a couple of years? Either that or they can’t handle the pressure.
However, in the 2020s, built in obsolescence and the excessive cost of repairs are not the end of the matter. Cue the internet. Having exhausted our expertise and run out of other ideas, we bail to Google.
At first, there is confusion. AI does its best, the forums offer little, and the maker’s website is understandably focused on selling the latest models. Then there’s You Tube – and sure enough we find a couple of videos that unpack our problem. Unfortunately, they are all voiced by guys with screwdrivers and clippers and are couched in way-too-hard technical terms.
Still not fully awake, and now somewhat deflated, we are both flagging, contemplating the emergency fix of instant. Meanwhile, my friend is looking at several hundred bucks worth of updating. “Maybe I should have descaled it,” he notes forlornly.
Ding! Lightbulb moment.
Perhaps the issue is merely mineral. Namely, the lime and other deposits that build up in the slender tubes. The question now – we hope – is how best to unblock.
After yet another helpful (but not) video we are on the verge of a Blend 43 backdown when my friend scrolls down to the comments section.
Whoa, long shot, I’m thinking, as he ponders yet more useless advice from digital randoms. But then…buried beneath layers of bad spelling and false hope…a hint. So simple. So grannycore.
I tried white vinegar and it worked.
A minute later, and my host has extracted a bottle of no-brand, two dollar vinegar from the back of a cupboard. Then, having poured said liquid into the water tank, the experiment begins. “Let’s just see if it comes through.”
A button is pressed, lights flash, sounds are produced, and fingers are duly crossed. The machine vibrates like a malfunctioning spaceship, moaning and throbbing, yet refusing to engage the warp drive. We hold our breath.
Five, ten, fifteen seconds. More. We are turning blue. But wait…a splutter. A trickle. A clear stream of savoury scented vinegar. It works. Block unblocked, flow flowing. Ciao, scales. Grazie, Nonna.
Later, having rinsed the machine and prepped a pair of delicious, creamy lattes – complete with froth art – we contemplate the brilliance of the solution. Not just the genius of vinegar and the circuitous route to espresso satisfaction, but the ‘best of both worlds’ tech. In the glow of caffeine it seems emblematic.
Whereas some would insist that our descaling triumph was a victory for good ol’ fashioned wisdom, others would doubtless declare big tech the winner on points. Yet, what the tasty outcome makes obvious is that there is no contest. The choice is not A or B. We can have both…and still get our coffee fix.
That a home appliance problem, which would once have baffled us into submission (or prompted another tinker fail) was addressable with a few clicks, and ultimately resolved with something as simple as vinegar, is surely an argument for polyamory. We can love the old and the new, without being too wedded to either.
Cake and eat it.
As I savoured the latte, scooping the remaining froth from the glass with an eager index finger, I was at peace. There is, I thought, no need for fighting. No blunt either/or. Holy war progressophobes and future-fantasy tech prophets are all missing the point. All locked into the mono-echo of my way/highway when they could be lifting their self-imposed anchors and taking to the borderless seas of surround sound possibility.
Ideology didn’t make my friend and I our coffees that afternoon. Nor did certainty. Or Granny. Or Google. We did not choose between old school remedy and next-gen fix, we went for the blend. The synthesis.
As we smeared the last fingers of froth from our cups, we realised that we had just put the Hegelian dialectic into direct action. The resulting lattes were a 21st century Australian manifestation of a 19th century German idea. And what a delightful synthesis it was.
Who would have thought…a humble home espresso machine on the blink, a bit of limescale lodged in its gut…and before you know it a lesson in perspective, a practical demonstration of agnostic adaptability. Need I say more?
Make coffee, not war.
As If You Were Listening 