I Tried the Wacaco Nanopresso Portable Espresso Maker and It Changed the Way I Drink Coffee

Did somebody say caffeine?! God knows it's the first thing I want to hear in the morning. I don't care if it's Colombian, Peruvian, Kenyan, Indonesian, Australian, or from anywhere else on the Coffee Belt, there's no denying the magical properties of this king among produce. I've often thought of just having the coffee beans shipped directly to my house so I can spend the entire day chewing on them.

Almost everyone I know loves coffee, and for those I know who don't love it, most of them still begrudgingly reach for it if they're having a tough time making it through their day. The problem I have with it, though, is the process of actually getting some.

I either need to wake up even earlier then I already do to make a pot and drink the entire thing (which results in a lunchtime crash), purchase it on the way (which, at a low end, equals two dollars a cup multiplied by two cups a day every day of the year), or otherwise suffer.

Then, if you like macchiatos, cappuccinos, or americanos? You might as well throw your wallet out the window. Knowing there had to be a better way, I scoured the internet for answers. Soon, I discovered Wacaco's Nanopresso, their portable espresso maker, and decided to give it a shot.

I was glad that it was available on Amazon.

Who has time to wait when Amazon Prime's 2-day shipping exists? I need my espresso ASAP! I arrived to the office and just as I was starting to get that 2 o'clock feeling, a package addressed to me came with the mail. Unable to restrain myself, I had to see if dreams really do come true.

Removing it from the packaging was the beginning of what I hoped would be a marvelous caffeinated adventure.

Deceptively light, I flipped the box end over end a few times, skimming over the instructions on how to use it, as well as what the receptacle included: A case, the Nanopresso, a built-in espresso cup, a water tank and filter basket, a scoop, a brush, a multi-lingual instruction booklet, a warranty card, and even a couple of stickers. Knowing full well I wanted to get my day going, I eagerly opened up my new toy.

It was about as tall as the newest iPhone on the market, and no wider than any portable bluetooth radio.

In all its unassuming might, I gazed at unlimited potential. I held, in the palm of my hand, all I needed to have in order to get through the most difficult of days. Curious, I went over to the company's espresso maker for a visual comparison, and was astounded by how convenient my caffeine fix would be able to satiate from here on out.

Though it be but little, it be fierce!

The adrenaline rush of considering the possibilities was enough to bring me through my day (or, rather, I knew that a shot of espresso in the afternoon would keep my wheels spinning well past my bedtime). I packed Wacaco's Nanopresso into its case, and made arrangements to go to my favorite coffee shop the next day.

"Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication."

Tucked between a hair salon and a butcher's shop on the main road of a predominately residential town is a coffee shop named Cool Beans where I am friendly with the staff and frequent to do off-hours work. It was the perfect place to review the Nanopresso. I set myself up at a table close to the service counter, and disassembled my device.

I was a little more intimidated than I had thought I would be.

I knew I only needed two components that I would surely find here: Coffee grinds and hot water, but I was unclear about the application. Luckily, the instruction book provided clear, concise directions which were supplemented by illustrations. It took a matter of seconds for me to brush off my insecurities about bringing in an espresso maker to a coffee shop, escort the scoop and the hollowed-out water tank to the countertop, and ask the lovely young lady working behind the counter if she could hook me up with my main ingredients.

Now came the tricky part... or so I thought.

I fumbled back to my seat and screwed together the water tank attachment onto the bottom of the machine, placing it aside for a moment as I focused on what I thought would be the tricky part. I took the perforated filter and placed it onto the now-full scooper, seemingly capping it in place.

As per instruction, I flipped the superimposed filter and scooper upside down, and came away with a perfectly distributed base of coffee grinds within the filter (without even a speck of the stuff spilling out onto the table!). Gently placing the filter at the top of the espresso maker, the only steps I had left were to screw on the spout attachment, unlock the mechanism on the front of the Nanopresso (revealing a piston-type apparatus), and pump.

Actually getting the espresso poured was pretty simple.

Using both hands (despite the aesthetic provided here), I got to work. After several pumps, the Nanopresso sputtered, and out poured a stream of espresso. I continued to pump, and the stemming, creamy-brown liquid poured out of the machine in concentrated bursts.

As I pumped, I felt like the roughnecks of old who, after several attempts of drilling into the Earth, struck oil, and danced in the rain of their labor. I pumped and pumped until the last drop was poured, fully prepared to taste the fruits of my labor.

Wacaco's Nanopresso pours the perfect shot.

It obviously depends on the type of coffee grinds you use, but I had the distinct pleasure of sipping on a smoother espresso shot than I am normally accustomed to. Having made sure to empty the contents of the hot water attachment through the filter and into my cup, I reveled in a distinctly lighter-bodied caffeine drink, and was pleasantly surprised at the absence of a bitter aftertaste. After this shot, I had another, and then a third. The taste never failed, and the espresso kept me honest all day long.

The cleanup process was easy, too.

Before packing up and heading home, I disassembled the Nanopresso and gave it a thorough cleaning. No complications here.

The entire process, from figuring out how to work the Nanopresso to cleaning it up after use, took all of five minutes, and cost me nothing more than what I would pay for coffee at the grocery store (lasting me months at a time, and possibly even a year now with the newest addition to my morning routine). I was throughly satisfied with my new little trinket.

Coming in at just under $80, this mechanism is perfect for young professionals, coffee aficionados, or as a gift for that college student in your life. If you don't mind saving yourself a little cash in your pocket and time in the morning, this mechanism will get you started early and keep you well energized all day long. Cheers to you, Wacaco, for a truly incredible invention.