Nespresso dabblings

As previously mentioned, Premier Inn’s enhanced ‘Premier Plus’ rooms come with, among other things, a Nespresso machine plus a selection of three or four coffee pods. Pod coffee machines have never been things I've particularly coveted, though I can certainly see their usefulness in a household where one person likes black and hot, someone else favours cappuccino etc. They must also be a lot less messy than more purist methods of coffee-making. Partly also because my kitchen has next to no spare counter space, I’ve stuck for years now with making coffee in a cafetière (aka ‘French press’ in the States, I believe) and have developed a preference for the full-bodied coffee that they produce.

A percolator

In conversation with Mum and Dad the other day about coffee-drinking in their young day, Mum remembered her mother favouring the instant coffee brand Maxwell House. I think we had various brands at home when I was a teenager; I can't remember whether Mum had a favoured brand but I think I remember Gold Blend featuring. Mum also tells me that years ago people used to make coffee from ‘Camp’ coffee, which I have only ever used for cooking and in iced coffee. I asked Mum and Dad about coffee percolators, as I’ve come across these in books (references to "getting the perk going"), but they didn’t remember either of their mums using them. The Wikipedia page note that percolators lost popularity to what it calls “drip-brew” coffeemakers – this might be either an obsolete and/or an American term but it seems to include coffee made with filter papers, which I remember Mum switching over to from instant, probably in the second half of the 80s. I think it took me a short while to get used to the taste of ground coffee after being used to drinking mugs of Nescafé or similar, and I remember thinking initially that it tasted like you would imagine iron filings taste, but I did develop a taste for it reasonably rapidly and nowadays can barely tolerate the taste of instant coffee.

Anyway, back to Premier Inn’s Nespresso machines. PI have recently put up the costs of their breakfasts, from £9.99 to £10.99, and as with all “all you can eat” pricing, they’re only decent value if you put away a large amount of food, and while I don’t consider I exactly eat like a bird, I’m not going to pile my plate high with all the options on the hot buffet. Given this, the last few times I’ve stayed in MK I’ve dabbled in Greggs breakfast rolls. I’ve never been much of a customer of Greggs, though I realise they’re very popular, and I can’t imagine myself ever ordering takeaway breakfast at home, but in a hotel room they certainly have their uses. At the Willen Lake hotel I have to get delivery, which reduces, though doesn’t obliterate, the price saving, but at the city centre hotels I can walk to Greggs and pick up, making the whole thing total £2.50-£3. Bargain.

Flakey (flaky?) goodness

Flakey goodness via JustEat

So given this, on my last few 'Premier Plus' bookings in MK I’ve been attempting to work out how to get a cup of coffee out of the Nespresso machines. This isn’t essential, as I always take my mini-cafetière and a supply of coffee with me, but I thought I should get with the modern way and know how to use them. They seem to be mainly Nespresso Essenza Mini machines – I have no idea where these sit in Nespresso’s range or indeed how may different types of machine they make. Anyway, it hasn’t entirely gone well. On the first occasion, the machine was blocked with used pods, which I did manage to empty out, but then couldn’t slot the bits back together.

Deconstructed Nespresso machine

Return to the trusty cafetière

On the second, things advanced slightly as I did manage to get the machine to dispense a tiny amount of coffee. It was quite decent coffee, but the machine staunchly refused to dispense more than a couple of centimetres worth.

The jar labelled 'Goose Fat' in the picture above contains coffee. I used to keep a cunning little plastic tub for this purpose, but Ruth ruined it by putting some sort of homemade Cajun spice blend in it.

On my stay last week, I had a bit more success and got a full mug of coffee, but then pushed my luck and tried to get a second; something clearly went wrong with the placing of the pod, as it disappeared into the bowels of the machine and the machine dispensed me a mug of frothy hot water. Admittedly I am not the handiest person out there but the placing of the pods does seem to me to be a lot more hit and miss than it ought to be – it surely can’t depend on inserting and placing them at precisely the right angle or the machine throws a strop.

The more successful cup last week

So although I can see the appeal, based on experience so far I’m not sure I’m going to be buying one – I’m probably safer sticking to my jug and plunger.

My cafetières

Postscript: I seem to have bookmarked this 10-year-old BBC article titled ‘Why do Britons drink so much instant coffee?’. I’m a bit staggered that instant coffee still accounted for 77% of the coffee bought in the UK for home drinking. Having said that, I have met a number of work colleagues who say they drink instant because it’s easier and quicker – given the availability and ease of use of cafetières, that never seems convincing to me. About all you can say for instant is that it’s less messy. According to the BBC piece, we've got the Americans to blame for it.