Granted, this may not be the best froth-topped cappuccino you’ve ever seen, but considering it’s the first one I’ve ever made, I’m pretty damn chipper about the whole damn thing.
I spent a long time deciding which coffee machine to buy my mother for Christmas. We’ve been through quite a few chez Wilkins over the years. There have been Turkish coffee pots, which left everyone spitting out grounds, and filter machines – which always seemed to be running out of filters, and percolators, and a Gaggia which only my father could work so it went with him in the divorce, more cafetieres/French presses than you could shake a stick at, and a wretched giant new De Longhi we can’t get to work properly.
So, because I knew lil’sis & I would get no peace until we had sorted the vexed coffee-making problem, I asked Twitter what I should buy a technophobe coffee lover for her daily cup. Unable to buy a Starbucks franchise for her small village (thanks guys, very helpful suggestion), I reckon 85% of people suggested a Nespresso machine.
Because my mother does not relish a fait accompli, I met her at Selfridges a fortnight ago at their Nespresso boutique so she could taste the coffee, see how the machine worked &, hopefully, choose her capsules.
And hurrah! She approved. I wasn’t surprised: the coffee IS good, and the machine is a doddle. You simply turn it on, press a button, wait for a light to stop flashing, insert a pre-filled and sealed coffee capsule, pull a lever, put a cup under the nozzle and press the button. That is all. Coffee!
Whilst my eye was first caught by the Citiz machines that come with an integrated milk frother, (and are cheaper too) we decided that my mother might have problems gripped the wide ridged barrel of the milk frother, as it has no handle. So I went for a simple coffee only machine, and a separate Aeroccino machine.
It is so ludicrously simple for frothing milk that even my mother can use it. You simply fill it with milk to a clearly defined mark on the inside of the jug, pop on the lid, press a button once until it goes red for hot froth, and for a few seconds moreuntil it turns blue for cold froth for iced coffee. Comprehensively idiot-proof.
My only gripe? Selfridges seem to have forgotten to pack George Clooney in my Nespresso bag.
The capsules work out at about 29p each. I did the math, and it works out favourably with buying and grinding beans yourself.