Espresso
Twenty years of brewing, learning, and finding joy in the pursuit of the perfect shot
My first espresso was in 2003, at a café called Costa near Chaoyangmen in Beijing. Starbucks had only been in China for a few years, and Costa was even rarer. I was 22, working as a copywriter at an advertising agency. Overtime was the norm — leaving at 10 or 11 PM was completely normal. One day a colleague took me to that shop and ordered an espresso. I thought it would be a big cup like American coffee. What arrived was a small porcelain cup with about 30 milliliters of brown liquid, topped with a layer of light brown foam.
The First Taste
I drank it in one gulp, and the bitterness made my whole face scrunch up. My colleague laughed beside me. He said this stuff isn't for quenching thirst — it's for staying alert. I didn't understand at the time. I thought it was expensive and bitter — what's the point of drinking it?
Later I gradually learned that foam is called crema. Italians call it the soul of coffee. In Italy, an espresso without crema would be sent back.
The Origins of Espresso
The word "espresso" itself is Italian. Many people think it means "express," as in fast, but that's not entirely correct. In Italian, "espresso" has two meanings: one is "pressed out," referring to using pressure to extract coffee; the other is "fast," because an espresso takes only about 25 to 30 seconds from start to finish.
Those early machines used steam to generate pressure, about 1.5 to 2 atmospheres. The coffee they made was completely different from today's espresso — more like Turkish coffee, with no crema.
The Birth of Modern Espresso
The standard for modern espresso was established in 1948. The son of a Milan café owner named Achille Gaggia invented the lever-operated coffee machine. This machine used springs and levers to generate pressure, reaching 8 to 10 atmospheres — five to six times that of the previous steam machines.
What happens at high pressure? The oils and gases in the coffee are squeezed out and mix with water to form an emulsion that floats on the surface of the coffee — this is crema. Gaggia originally named this new coffee "caffè crema," cream coffee.
When I later traveled to Italy, I specifically researched this history. Some old cafés in Milan and Turin still have machines from the 1950s and 60s — those brass-cased things with levers. A barista had to pull a lever to make each cup of coffee, which is where the English expression "pulling a shot" comes from. Modern machines all use buttons or are automatic, but the expression has survived.
In 1961, Ernesto Valente of Faema company invented the E61, the first machine to use an electric pump to generate pressure. Valente had previously been a contractor for Gaggia, but the two parted ways due to disagreements. Gaggia thought espresso was a high-end product that should be sold to upscale cafés. Valente thought they should make affordable machines that everyone could use. The E61 used an electric pump to stabilize pressure at 9 atmospheres, a number that later became the industry standard.
Why 9 bar, not 8 or 10? No one can give a definitive answer. Some say 9 bar happens to extract the best flavor from coffee; others say it was a limitation of pump technology at the time. Regardless, 9 bar is now the default pressure for making espresso worldwide.
My Equipment Journey
In 2009, I bought my first home coffee machine — a De'Longhi, model I forget, maybe EC155 or something, cost over a thousand yuan. That machine claimed 15 bar pressure, but the actual extraction pressure at the coffee grounds was probably only around 9 bar. Many home machines like to play up the pressure numbers, claiming 15 bar, 19 bar, 20 bar — it's all marketing. Too much pressure is actually bad; it over-extracts and makes the coffee bitter.
I used that machine for three years. Lots of problems. Temperature wasn't stable — the first and second cups could taste very different. The steam wand didn't have enough power for milk foam, producing coarse bubbles. The group head leaked. In 2012, I sold it and bought a Gaggia Classic, second-hand, previous owner had used it for five years, I paid 1,500 yuan for it.
The Gaggia Classic is one of the most well-regarded entry-level semi-automatic machines. Single boiler, brass group head, 58mm portafilter — same size as commercial machines. I used this machine until 2019, replacing the seal once and descaling twice, with no other major issues.
In 2019, I switched to a Rancilio Silvia, another benchmark entry-level semi-automatic. The Silvia has a larger boiler than the Gaggia Classic, with better temperature stability. But the Silvia has an issue — the boiler temperature fluctuation cycle is quite long. If you don't understand the machine's temperament, it's easy to extract when the temperature is too high or too low, resulting in bad coffee.
Many people install a PID controller after buying a Silvia to stabilize the temperature. I didn't. I think learning to master the machine's own rhythms is part of making coffee.
The Variables to Control
Making a cup of espresso requires controlling many variables.
Choosing Coffee Beans
Choosing coffee beans is also a whole field of study.
Italians traditionally use blends of Arabica and Robusta. Arabica has complex flavors, high sweetness, and also high acidity. Robusta has simpler taste, is bitter, but has high oil content, producing thick crema. The classic Italian blend is 70% Arabica plus 30% Robusta; some Neapolitan-style blends have an even higher Robusta ratio with more bitterness.
The specialty coffee scene in North America and Northern Europe doesn't really use Robusta — they consider it a cheap bean. They prefer 100% Arabica, single origin, light roast. Espresso made from these beans has noticeable acidity and prominent fruit notes — completely different from the traditional Italian style.
I drink both. When I'm rushing in the morning, I prefer traditional Italian style — dark roast, chocolate and nut notes, makes a good latte with milk. In the afternoon when I have time to savor, I'll make a single shot of light-roast espresso, no milk, experiencing the bean's own character.
Roast level also matters. Dark-roasted beans produce more oils and thicker crema, but simpler flavor. Light-roasted beans preserve more origin characteristics, but thinner crema and more prone to under-extraction. For light-roast espresso, I usually use slightly higher water temperature and longer extraction time.
Equipment Buying Advice
No matter what machine you buy, don't skimp on the grinder. A ¥6,000 coffee machine paired with a ¥300 grinder will produce worse results than a ¥3,000 machine paired with a ¥1,500 grinder. The grinder is at least as important as the coffee machine. My current grinder is a Eureka Mignon Specialita, cost about ¥2,800 when I bought it. Stepless adjustment dial makes changing grind size very convenient. Dosing is consistent — 18g dose has variance within 0.2g. Used it for three years with no problems.
Some people ask me if making espresso at home is worth it.
From an economic perspective, a Starbucks espresso sells for 27 yuan, a latte for 35 yuan. If I make it myself using 200-yuan-per-kilogram beans (that's already decent specialty coffee), 18 grams per double espresso, the cost is about 3.6 yuan. Even adding milk, utilities, and equipment depreciation, it's under 8 yuan per cup. If you drink one cup daily, you save over 10,000 yuan a year.
But you can't calculate it this way. The investment in coffee machine and grinder, the time cost of learning to adjust parameters, the daily time spent grinding, extracting, steaming milk, and cleaning the machine — all this adds up. If you just want a coffee to stay alert, buying one outside or using a capsule machine in the office is the easier choice.
The joy of making espresso at home lies in the process itself. You can feel how each variable adjustment affects the final taste. The same bag of beans today versus yesterday might taste different, because temperature, humidity, and bean freshness are all changing. This uncertainty is a hassle for some people; for others, it's the fun.
I belong to the latter.
I belong to the latter.