Coffee was an essential part of my childhood.
My earliest memories include waking up to the rich aroma of filter coffee in the mornings. Being given black coffee in a mini steel tumbler whenever I came down with a fever. My grandmother firmly believed that drinking a shot of black coffee with a pinch of ginger would send the fever packing. Nobody knew anything about the effects of caffeine then. And somehow, I did end up feeling better too. I also remember having coffee at restaurants along the highways when we went on family roadtrips.
Yet, despite all this, it wasn’t until much, much later in adulthood that coffee replaced Bournvita and Boost as my wake-up drink. I don’t know when that switch happened exactly but since more than a decade, coffee gently gets me ready for the day. I make mine in a Bialetti Moka Pot.
There’s something meditative about brewing coffee in it. It takes less than 5 minutes but I find myself entirely focused for that duration. I make the water lukewarm before pouring it into the pot for optimal taste. Then, I put scoops of coffee powder and tamp it down before screwing the top tight and placing it on the gas. It takes about 7 to 10 minutes for the Pot to finish making the decoction. In those few minutes, the house warms up with the delicious fragrance of coffee.
I tried many types of coffee-making methods before I decided that nothing but the Moka Pot does the job to perfection. And it all began with a gift.
My first Moka Pot

In 2015, I got my first Bialetti Moka Pot as a gift. Shiny black, and just enough to make 4 cups, it looked elegant and all set to pour out the best coffee. But it took me some time to find the right coffee powder needed to get the right intensity of decoction. That was a hunt all on its own deserves a post of its own.
Anyway, once I perfected making coffee in the Moka Pot, a new problem arose. I had to make coffee in 2, sometimes 3, batches when we had visitors. This was a problem as the Pot has to be cleaned after each use and then it becomes difficult to screw the top back on when it’s all wet.
My first coffee machine

My parents, who remembered my complaint from one of our conversations, gifted me a coffee machine. A 12-cup Morphy Richards coffee-maker, which I could just plugin and play. It wasn’t anything fancy – it couldn’t do cappuccinos or ristrettos – but it did the job.
Now, if I had been like one of those cops in NYPD Blue or a doctor from ER, forever pouring cups of black coffee from a lukewarm pot, the coffee machine would have bumped the Moka Pot right off the counter. Luckily for the Pot, I am not that person. I like my coffee intense and with milk. And the Morphy Richards couldn’t do intense or even come close to it. So, it found its home in the dark confines of a shelf in our utility room.
My first French Press

My visitor problem continued to persist. And not just that. I was now intrigued to know if anything else can match the Moka Pot’s output.
So, I tried a French Press next.
Again, I didn’t buy a branded, fancy one. I browsed around in the supermarket near my parents’ apartment in Bangalore and got a steel pot with a long spout to pour and a plunger inside. Excited, I tried it out as soon as I returned to Dublin. Sadly, it wasn’t meant to last. I poured the decoction from the press and as soon as I saw the light black shade, I knew. I took the first sip after I mixed the milk in, and it confirmed my misgivings.
Too light, too watery. Could be a good contender for black coffee but not for me.
My first cezve

Now that I have waxed eloquent about the different ways of making coffee, I can’t leave out the Turkish version. Because this one also comes close to the Moka Pot in its flavour and depth.
While I prefer coffee with milk I’m not averse to black. Again, it does need to be strong and rich with a creamy, velvety mouthfeel.
I fell in love with heady, cardamom-scented Turkish black coffee when I visited Istanbul. Cafes and shops had a pot of the brew bubbling away wherever I went, and I ended up having a couple of black coffees in tiny cups everyday. My friend gifted me a cezve after the trip, and now I spend many delightful afternoons, post-lunch, sipping on strong black coffee laced with cardamom.
And so Moka Pot it is
I haven’t tried the drip method because I don’t have the patience for it. I haven’t tried pour-over or Aeropress or some of the other newer styles. But this excellent video demonstrating different methods of making coffee confirms what I discovered – nothing beats the Moka Pot if elegant, bold coffee with milk is what you’re after.
And so, the tiny Moka Pot continues to stand tall in my kitchen.