Moka pot

Moka, or Moka-pot, or Stove-top Espresso Maker:

A popular coffee brewing device. The device originated in Italy around 1903. Typically made out of aluminum (cheap) or stainless steel (expensive). Usually has a hourglass shape; newer models, however, look like miniature pitchers. The device consists of three parts: the water chamber (bottom), the filter basket (middle), and the top-chamber (top).

Water is placed into the water chamber. Coffee is packed into the filter basket. The filter basket is then placed into the water chamber. Finally, the top-chamber is screwed onto the water-chamber.

The moka-pot is placed onto a stove at low or medium heat. Steam pressure builds up in the water chamber causing water to rush through the filter-basket and up a spout in the top-chamber. The resulting coffee is very strong and rich. Not exactly an espresso, but very close.

A stove top espresso machine is probably the most inexpensive mechanism for which to make an espresso. Costing around US$25 for a cheap model they can effectively make a real coffee in your house or while camping.

Made of Aluminium or stainless steel (this is better, but more expensive), they come in many shapes and sizes but the principle behind their operation is identical.

_____________________________
\          ____          /   |
 \                      /    |    /_____  Handle
  \finished|  |        /     |    \
   \product|  |       /     /________ Top Part  
    \      |  |      /      \   
     \_____|  |_____/    /____________ Filter     
     /|coffee grind|\    \
    / |____   _____| \_ 
   /       | |        \ Safety valve        
  /        | |         \        
 /   water | |          \     /_________ Bottom Part
/________________________\    \ 

The machine is put on an element or flame. As the heat increases, the water vaporises increasing the pressure. This forces the water through the receptacle holding the coffee grind, through the filter and into the top part. Vala! espresso.

Although the theory of operation is relatively simple, using one of these things requires practice.

To operate:

• unscrew the top part from the bottom part.
• Put the correct amount of grind in the reciprocal, then tap it down (most instructions say not to, but phooey to them).
• Fill the bottom part with cold water up to the valve, BUT NOT OVER IT. It is there so the thing doesn't explode if something goes wrong.
• Reassemble the machine, and set the element or flame to high and place the machine on top.
• Wait.
• Nothing much will happen for a few minutes, until all of a sudden you will hear gurgling.
• Look into the top part and you will see dark coffee filling pouring from the top of the tube in the middle. Wait until just less the desired amount of coffee as flown in and take the machine off the heat.
• Pour into a cup and drink immediately.

Before you run off, buy and operate a stove top espresso, a few safety tips:

• Make sure the valve is not impaired, if it is, throw the machine away. Seriously, there is a lot of pressure in these babies and the valve is there to stop it exploding.
• Don't clean and reuse it until it has cooled down. This will take a while
• The last one is really for the machine's safety as opposed to yours, but don't let it boil dry.

Albert Herring says: You don't need to thow a basic Moka Express away if the valve blows - you can just replace it. Ditto rubber rings, filter funnels, filter screens, handles and the plastic knob to lift up the lid.

Also you need to fill the coffee space *completely*, since otherwise the pressure will force the coffee to one side and let the hot water mostly pass through without contacting it.

sneff says: The single best thing I have ever done to improve stovetop espresso is to fill the bottom chamber with hot water, not cold. The reasoning is that the water will take less time to get to pressure (boiling) temperature, and results in less flavour/aroma loss as a result. Have a try - I'm sure you will be impressed.

How I use my Moka Express pot

"It's bloody strong but it's not bloody well espresso!"
— me

My first Moka pot was a gift from my interpreter's wife in Hungary. She taught me how to use it and gave me one to take home. It is also just a classic and beautiful piece of engineering, winner of many design awards and a place as an icon of Italy (and Europe!) Like so many of the classic espresso machines it is a thing of beauty in itself. I love using it, it's my daily driver these days and is an important part of my morning ritual.

The term "Moka pot" actually covers a lot of ground. There are many manufacturers of this classic coffee maker. To me the definitive version is the 3-cup classic, the cast aluminium octagonal Bialetti Moka Express. There are several different sizes of this version (I also have a 1-cup), Bialetti also make a 6, 12 and 18-cup size. There are other designs too, from the stainless steel pot designed for induction hobs, to the Mini Express to make two individual shots, and other designs such as the more modern-looking Venus, Musa and Alpina. Other manufacturers make a similar range, but I'm going to focus on my 3-cup Bialetti.

A Moka pot is not an "espresso maker"

I refrain from referring to the coffee produced as "espresso" for the same reason I decline to use the phrase "stovetop espresso". A true espresso machine is able to produce far more pressure than a Moka pot, which produces around 1.5 bar as opposed to 6 or 8. The coffee may be strong, but it's not up to espresso strength or nature, although the cup sizes reflect a standard espresso shot. </rant>

warfride's writeup above lays out the basics of how the Moka pot works, and the basic principles. I'm going to elaborate on this a little and explain why my method differs from theirs in some important respects. I've done a good deal of experimentation with various different coffees and different roast levels and grind sizes, looked at what others have done with it and tried them all. I should include a disclaimer that this is just how I prefer to make my coffee, to suit my taste preferences and style. I've talked about why I grind my beans just before use, and why I weigh my coffee.

My Method

Begin by boiling some water. This is for two reasons: the first is that I'm getting a head start on time while I grind my beans, the second is that once I've assembled the pot the vapour pressure is already working its magic.

I weigh out 16 grams of beans for my daily driver medium roast (I use slightly less for darker roasts, around 15 grams; and about 16.5 grams for my lighter decaffeinated coffee). I grind a little coarser than I would for espresso, aiming for the size of table salt (about 13 clicks on my grinder). Once the coffee is ground, I pour it into the filter basket, gently tapping and shaking to settle it down, finally giving the base a gentle tap on the counter. If there are any gaps between the coffee and the sides, I'll gently spread the coffee evenly round with my finger. Some people have questioned this, telling me to fill higher and tamp it down. The reason I don't is that unlike true espresso, the Moka pot cannot produce enough pressure to force the water through a compressed coffee cake. I had poor tasting, sour extraction until I realised my error.

Water is next. I weigh my water (partly because it can be hard to see the bottom of the safety valve where the water level should be) and partly for reasons of reproducibility (see How to make good coffee at home). If I know exactly how much water and coffee I'm using I can refine the rest of my process. Some people go to extremes with their water, using only distilled water and carefully measured amounts of minerals. I want a nice cup of coffee and a pleasing ritual in my kitchen, not a full-on science lab. My coffee scale is enough.

Finally, before assembly I have one final touch. I use an Aeropress paper filter that I slip into the bottom part of the base below the gasket and metal filter before screwing the top down tightly. This has two effects. Firstly it slightly increases the pressure in the boiler and moderates the flow of water moving through the coffee. Secondly, it captures the finest coffee grounds and a little of the oil before it hits the top vessel. This does make for a clearer and cleaner cup of coffee. The difference may be slight, but aesthetically my coffee is also better. I can drink the last drop without worrying about the little sludge of "fines" in the bottom of my cup.

There are three stages to Moka brewing. The heating starts when the pot is placed over the heat source and the pressure in the boiler slowly starts to rise, the second is when the coffee starts to flow, and the last stage is when the water is starting to run out. I put my 3-cup brewer over a medium low heat because I want a steady and smooth flow of water through the grounds. I stop it when I notice bubbling at the top of the delivery chimney, and immediately remove from the heat and cool the base to stop the brew.

Now, what to do with this coffee?

In the morning I will often make a faux cappuccino by heating milk and frothing it. I have two methods; if I'm making coffee for two, I microwave some milk in the bottom of a small French press and spam the filter to foam it. The second, if it's just me and one cup, is to use my Frabosk frother. This is a steel jug in which milk is heated on the stove while the coffee is brewing. Then it's aerated and foamed using the plunger. Neither method produces anything like a true café frother can do, but it's close enough for jazz and equally tasty.

Sometimes I will drink it straight and undiluted, other times I'll add an equal amount of hot water or a dash of milk or cream. One of the reasons I love my Moka so much is because due to its strength, it lends itself to a variety of drinks, including a Cuban coffee.

Cleaning the Moka pot

As soon as I've poured the coffee I remove the top and rinse it under hot tap water from the top and the bottom. A quick wipe with a microfibre towel and I'll put it on the drainer to dry fully. Then I remove the paper filter, which if left too long, would stick to the base of the boiler. Once I've enjoyed my coffee I'll empty the basket and rinse the basket and the boiler and drain.

About once a week I'll thoroughly clean the whole thing, taking the gasket and filter out and washing by hand in a mild dish detergent. This removes any stubborn oils and leaves it all squeaky-clean. While you're cleaning, check the safety valve by gently pulling on the centre nub on the inside to ensure it's free to move. To clean the inside tube of the top and the nozzle I'll use a paper towel wrapped round a chopstick. Removing these oils prevents rancidity in the device, again to make a better cup overall. I'm using it once or twice a day, and this suffices to keep everything clean. One word of warning – do not put it in a dishwashing machine as the abrasives will scrub away the surface finish of the aluminium.

So now you know how I do it, and to some extent, why; there are other reasons beyond my enjoyment of coffee and the ritual. So if you own one, drag it out from whichever cupboard, give it a good wash and set to. If you lack a grinder, the classic Lavazza Crema e Gusto or Qualità Rossa can be found in many supermarkets, and both make for a wonderful experience. However you fix it, while you're sipping it remember you're carrying on a classic Italian tradition and raise your cup to the memory of its designer, Renato Bialetti.

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