A Moka induction coffee maker, dismantled into its three components: the stovetop boiler, the coffee basket, and the coffee pot receptacle that screws on top. The coffee pot is resting on its side with the bottom facing the camera, to show the new seal that has been installed. The box for a new set of seals sits beside the dismantled pot.
A fully assembled induction coffee maker, with the Bialetti logo of a mustached cartoon figure with one arm raised high with a pointed finger as if making an emphatic statement. A box of replacement seals sits in front of the assembled coffee maker.
A Moka induction coffee maker, dismantled into its three components: the stovetop boiler, the coffee basket, and the coffee pot receptacle that screws on top. The coffee pot is resting on its side with the bottom facing the camera, to show the new seal that has been installed. The box for a new set of seals sits beside the dismantled pot.
A fully assembled induction coffee maker, with the Bialetti logo of a mustached cartoon figure with one arm raised high with a pointed finger as if making an emphatic statement. A box of replacement seals sits in front of the assembled coffee maker.
[30 January 2024]
Coffee-loving friends recently gifted me a Bialetti Fiammetta coffee maker, suitable for solo consumption of the black nectar. I’d long admired stove-top espresso makers from afar, but never owned one myself, so this ranked pretty well up there on the wish-fulfillment scale.
The unit had seen years of service, with the accretions and scorches to prove it. The “before” view is withheld to protect the innocent, but if you’re a coffee drinker, you’re well equipped to fill that gap in the narrative.
