Americano — A Coffee Professional's Perspective

Americano

Reflections from Eleven Years Behind the Bar

I ordered an Americano at a specialty coffee shop in Beijing. The young man behind the counter, wearing an apron, glanced at me with a subtle expression. He didn't say anything, but I knew what he was thinking. I've seen that look too many times.
11 Years in Coffee

There's a strange hierarchy of contempt within the specialty coffee world. Pour-over sits at the top, followed by espresso, while the Americano is tossed into some corner alongside lattes and caramel macchiatos. Many professionals think that people who order Americanos "don't understand coffee." I've heard similar remarks in coffee shops across Shanghai, Chengdu, and Hangzhou—sometimes said directly to me, other times overheard while I pretended to be looking at my phone.

I've been making coffee for eleven years. My view is exactly the opposite.

Americano Exposes Everything

A pour-over can hide a lot of things. If the water temperature is off by two degrees, the grind is one notch too coarse, or the extraction time is fifteen seconds too short—the resulting coffee might have slightly weaker flavors, but the average consumer won't notice any obvious problems. You can say it has "slightly shallow layers" or "a shorter finish"—vague adjectives that explain everything away.

An Americano doesn't give you that chance.

The Unforgiving Formula

18g of grounds, 36g of liquid, 25 seconds of extraction. If this shot is under-extracted, the acidity after adding water will be sharp enough to sting. Over-extracted, and the bitterness is amplified threefold. If the crema isn't thick enough, the whole cup tastes like dishwater. If the crema color is off, it will disperse in an ugly way once hot water is added.

When I'm evaluating a new coffee shop, I never order a pour-over. I order an Americano.

About the Order of Water

The difference between a Long Black and an Americano has been covered in many articles. A Long Black is water first, then espresso; an Americano is espresso first, then water. The former preserves the crema; the latter disperses it.

This distinction has been made way too mystical.

I did a rather tedious test. Same beans, same extraction parameters—I made six Long Blacks and six Americanos, and had twelve customers in my shop blind taste them. Eight people couldn't tell them apart. Three guessed wrong. One guessed correctly, but he couldn't explain why.

Crema itself carries bitterness; when dispersed, that bitterness distributes more evenly throughout the cup. If the crema is preserved, the first few sips taste more bitter, and the later ones are milder. This is a physical phenomenon, not some "ritual" or "respect for coffee." I've seen some coffee bloggers write that "a Long Black reflects the barista's reverence for this cup of coffee"—I don't know what to say to that. Coffee beans don't feel respected just because you add water first.

Coffee beans don't feel respected just because you add water first.

Water Temperature and Volume

My own approach: 92°C water, with an espresso-to-water ratio between 1:4 and 1:5. A double shot is about 36ml, so I add 144ml to 180ml of water.

Many shops add too much water. I've seen ratios of 1:8 or even 1:10, resulting in a large cup of pale brown liquid that tastes like coffee-flavored warm water. These shops typically use dark roast beans with a bitter extraction profile, and they think adding more water will "balance" things out. The result is diluting an already mediocre espresso into something even more mediocre.

Water temperature matters too*. Many shops use freshly boiled water, 98°C or even hotter. At that temperature, some of the volatile aromatics in the espresso are simply steamed away. I had a cup at a shop in Guangzhou where the espresso itself was quite good, but after the water was added, half the aroma was gone. I asked the barista what temperature the water was, and he said, "Boiling, just came off."

90-93°C Optimal
Below 88°C — Sharp acidity Above 94°C — Aroma loss

90 to 93 degrees is ideal. I've tested this many times.

The Cup Problem

There's another thing that really annoys me.

Many specialty coffee shops use cups that are way too big for Americanos. They'll use 350ml or even 400ml mugs, making that 100-something milliliters of coffee look pathetically small at the bottom. Visually, it's already a loss.

The same amount of coffee, served in a 200ml cup, looks like a proper beverage. Served in a 400ml cup, it looks like someone's leftovers. I'm not sure if this is intentional or if they've simply never thought about it. Either way, the result is that many people who order an Americano end up thinking, "That's it?"—even though the amount of coffee is exactly the same.

180ml Cup

Optimal visual proportion. Coffee appears substantial and intentional.

400ml Cup

Same volume looks like leftovers. Visual impact undermined.

In my own shop, I use a 180ml tapered cup for Americanos. I settled on this after testing seven or eight different cup shapes.

The Pricing Issue

At specialty coffee shops in Beijing and Shanghai, a pour-over typically costs 38 to 58 yuan, while an Americano costs 28 to 35 yuan. Some shops charge as little as 22 yuan for an Americano.

This pricing implies an attitude: that the Americano is a "low-end product."

I've calculated the costs. A pour-over uses 15g of grounds; a double-shot Americano uses 18g. A pour-over requires three to four minutes of continuous attention; an Americano takes about forty seconds from grinding to serving. If you look purely at coffee bean cost, an Americano is actually higher. If you factor in labor time, a pour-over is indeed more expensive—but not to the extent that justifies a 10 or 20 yuan price difference.

The pricing difference is primarily psychological. A pour-over has "performative" value—there are tools, there's a process, and the customer can see it all. An Americano is just pressing a button, adding some water, and done in thirty seconds. Many people feel they're paying for the "experience," not just the coffee itself. I understand that.

What I don't understand is why some baristas look down on customers who order Americanos because of this. If you really think the Americano is low-end, then don't sell it. If it's on the menu and a customer orders it, what's with that expression?

If you really think the Americano is low-end, then don't sell it. If it's on the menu and a customer orders it, what's with that expression?

Back to That Shop

That Americano was pretty mediocre. The extraction was too fast, and the water added was too much and too hot. I could tell what was wrong from the first sip.

The young man behind the counter later came over and asked how I liked it. I said it was good. I didn't tell the truth. I'm thirty-seven years old; I don't really feel like teaching someone how to make coffee in their own shop.

On my way back, I thought: perhaps his attitude toward the Americano is exactly why this shop's Americano is so mediocre. If you look down on something, you won't put any care into making it well. And if you don't put care into making it well, it really does become mediocre.

A self-fulfilling prophecy.

A Note on the Asterisk

That asterisk needs addressing. Regarding the water temperature tests, I spent about two months on them, using four different roast levels of beans, with at least twenty cups made at each temperature. Below 88°C, the acidity tends to be a bit sharp; above 94°C, there's noticeable aroma loss; the 90-93°C range is the most stable. This isn't a precision scientific experiment—just my own records. Different beans and different machines may yield different results.

But I've used 92°C for six years now, and it hasn't caused any major problems.

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