The Cult of the Gaggia (Revisited)

Some time ago, I blogged – perhaps a little too triumphantly – that I’d snagged an early Gaggia Classic on eBay for a sensible sum. A proper, no-nonsense machine with real switches and the look of something designed by someone who’d actually seen a boiler before. It felt like a win. And it was... at first.

But what no one tells you – or rather, what they whisper only after you’ve joined – is that the Gaggia Classic isn’t a coffee machine. It’s a rite of passage. You don’t buy one so much as pledge allegiance. And before you know it, you’re spending more time talking to your espresso than your spouse.

I've been taking lessons on-line from James Hoffmann, a self-professed coffee nerd who has a monetised YouTube tutorial covering everything coffee related.  

Let’s start with the gear. What began as a simple machine has now become the centrepiece of a stainless steel constellation. There’s a dosing collar to stop the grounds flinging themselves all over the kitchen. A tamper that looks like it was nicked from a Victorian laboratory. A WDT tool – a spiky thing apparently designed to break up clumps, though it also works well for aerating compost or defending your espresso against heretics. A scale that could weigh a soul, and a hand burr grinder calibrated to deliver precisely one doppio before your wrist gives out. And of course, a ‘performance diffuser’, because apparently what your £210 machine really needed was a carefully milled disc to stop it peeing water all over the place like a startled ferret.

Now – if you’d asked me at the start whether I believed in espresso myths, I’d have laughed them off. But after weeks of trial and error, I’ve seen them all rise like ghosts from the crema:

• Myth 1: “Crema means quality.” Rubbish. You can get thick crema from burnt supermarket beans and a pressurised basket. It’s not flavour – it’s foam.
• Myth 2: “Espresso takes exactly 25 seconds.” Not unless you’re brewing on the International Space Station. Some shots take 20, some take 35. The only real measure is whether you enjoy drinking it.
• Myth 3: “Espresso is stronger than filter.” Only if you drink it by the thimble. Filter often has more caffeine – it just doesn’t slap you in the face as enthusiastically.
• Myth 4: “Dark roast is better for espresso.” Not always. Some dark roasts taste like a tyre fire. Lighter beans can be fruitier, brighter, and far less like licking the inside of a chimney.
• Myth 5: “Tamping must be exactly 30lbs.” Who’s measuring this? Am I supposed to take my tamper to the gym? Just press evenly. It’s not rocket science – it’s coffee.

Anyway – myth-busting aside – I can now get a decent shot. Not every time, mind. But regularly enough that I no longer question whether this is all just a very elaborate and expensive method of burning through perfectly good beans.

But the real betrayal? The cup is still cold. You can do everything right – perfect grind, perfect tamp, beautiful crema – and still end up with a drink that feels like it’s been politely reheated by the dog. The steam wand trick is messy, cup-warming on top is a joke, and running a blank shot feels like bribing the boiler gods.

And don’t even think about using the Gaggia for visitors. The moment more than two people ask for coffee, you’re into full military logistics – warming cups, regrinding beans, draining off steam pressure like a traction engine. By the time the last person gets theirs, the first has fallen asleep and the rest are chewing Rich Teas in protest. Out comes the French press, sulking from its drawer like a retired colonel called back into service.

Yet – and here’s the irony – when it works… oh, when it works. The espresso is rich, velvety, aromatic. It lands with precision. And it’s all the more satisfying because you earned it. You measured, ground, tamped, stabbed, timed, and muttered it into existence. You didn’t just press a button – you conducted a symphony of caffeine and hope.

Would I recommend a Gaggia Classic? Of course. But only if you realise you're not buying convenience – you're buying into ritual. This is not a machine for the casual sipper. This is a machine for those who believe that somewhere in the clattering of grinders and the steam-hissing silence of an early morning kitchen, there is meaning. It's for the person who relishes rebuilding a Triumph GT6 or recommissioning a Mercedes 500SL.

And possibly, one day, I may get a 'God shot'. Look it up.

The drawback? Caffeine plays havoc with my bladder! I have to carefully time when I'm going to have a shock treatment of caffeine - not when I expect to go out and certainly not after 4pm, else I'll be up all night attending the loo.