The Problem with 'X-Presto' Coffee Pods
Nespresso Pods are like coffee, if you removed the joy.
On a chill day, I’ve got time to hit my local café, Chachos. The baristas already know, “Iced Americano, to go, for Guy” (but in Hebrew). I sit outside, watch cute dogs, stressed parents, interesting fashion choices, play brain games, then walk home shaking ice to get those last sweet sips of watered-down espresso.
That single drink powers me for hours. I feel alert. I feel safe. Maybe I’ll just need one more later, max.
Office days are less chill. I’m groggy at 6 or 7am. So groggy I start with a preworkout mix to get me going. I don’t have the energy to even boil water. By 9 or 10, I go to the office. And that’s where my caffeine problems really start.
On these days I can go through six or eight pods, and still feel tired. love my office and my job, so it’s not a mental thing. Nespresso pods are the problem.
Like most offices in Midtown, TLV, a multi-thousand shekel Nespresso machine is the primary means of caffeinating. These machines look fancy. Don’t be fooled. They are traps.
These machines require more maintenance overall. Sure, you don’t need to clean between each use. Instead, people are reminded to descale the machine after an unpredictable amount of use. Usually the warning to descale or clean comes right when you don’t have even a second.
And the only cleaning that is done is the descaling, because you’re forced to. Immediately after descaling, the tubes are still so clogged it sounds like a jalopy. If you dare look at the outside, esp where the coffee drips, you’re sure to find rust or mildew. The machine doesn’t remind you to clean there too.
The machine makes espresso or cappuccino. Cool! There are loads of other options, but I’ve never seen someone brave enough to try them.
What do the buttons mean? Nobody knows. I only know that none of them let the water soak in coffee beans for more than a split second, while other mechanisms take time for absorption.
There’s allegedly flavor options. I can taste the difference between Coke and Pepsi, but not Nespresso Caramel and Ristretto Italiano, or the other Italian names I assume mean, “Gimmick.”
It’s all a part of the illusion of abundance. You get one drink. Different amounts of it. Never strong. Other people like it. I don’t. They fill it with sugar and milk. I don’t.
Pods are allegedly not decaf. But I am not convinced.
Whenever I get K-Cups, which are sold to Israel despite the appliance not existing here, I cut the plastic container open and put the beans in a French Press. Then I wonder about all the waste these things make.
At least K-Cups let the water absorb for a second.
Real coffee is strong. Real coffee is oily. Real coffee slaps you in the face and makes you call it daddy.
Good cafes take pride in filtered, cold water. They use cold water to make hot drink, then add ice.
These pods? They taste like someone yelled coffee at unfiltered, luke warm water from another room. They suggest coffee. They remind you of coffee.
A regular cup of coffee gives you 95–150 mg of caffeine. A home brew? Over 200. Nespresso pods: 55–75, allegedly. I suspect less. Maybe negative. I’ve had herbal teas that made more of a dent in my blood.
Quick maths: 2 * 55 = 110 < (150 || 200).
My Arab coworkers and friends get it. They drink “bots,” Turkish coffee made by pouring boiling water onto ground beans and drinking around the dirt like it’s a game. Some will drink café espresso too. But they all know: no pods, no instant, no artificial flavors.
But for the others, who feel a high from drinking a Coke, pods somehow work. I don’t get how. I remind myself that not everybody has such a strong caffeine addiction.
For me, it’s not coffee without a piercing aroma. Coffee is supposed to announce itself. It’s supposed to fill the room like perfume in a fancy store. Nespresso pods have almost no smell, even as I lift it to my lips. It’s like drinking a ghost. A light fart will wake you up better.
I get jealous of the sandalled coworkers who drink ginger-lemon tea and somehow slept 3 hours but look refreshed. I get jealous of my Dr. Sister, who somehow abstains from caffeine despite crazy hours. I get jealous of the people who can workout without a dose of caffeine. They are not me.
I feel like a nihilist, wishing a smoker would put out a cigarette in my drink so I could taste something.
I ask what would Janeway (of Star Trek: Voyager) do. They had replicated coffee. Surely it was better than a Nespresso pod. She would find a planet with coffee at any cost to her crew.
Yes, I should and will buy a French press, a coffee urn, or literally any setup that makes real coffee.
But I need to rant to push back on the offices spending tons of money on an overpriced machine. These contraptions were never a solution to problems except, maybe, “How do I spend this part of our budget?” or “How can I add to plastic waste?”
You know what’s more eco-friendly than pods and k-cups? Any other option.
I need coffee that screams in my face and slaps me with hope. But I’ll drink what I got, and I’ll keep the complaint to my blog.
