table talk / By Simona Carini

Meet My Moka

Though I am attached to tradition, I am not totally averse to novelty. When I read about a stovetop coffee pot that produced coffee with crema, I decided to try it. I shared my desire with a dear Italian friend and the result was a gift of a two-cup Brikka pot. From the outside, the Brikka (made by Bialetti) does not look much different from its older relative, the moka. The most obvious difference is a sort of mad hatter hat over the spout that causes pressure to build up inside the water container. The experience of making coffee with the new pot the first few times was strange, because it was hard not to use the Brikka like a moka: I had to refer to the instructions constantly to prepare the coffee correctly and to make the pot interact with the heat source as required. Coffee made with Brikka does indeed have a layer of froth on the surface. The short-lived crema (adversely affected, in my experience, by the action of pouring the coffee into the cup) prompts immediate consumption — a must for me anyway, since I abhor coffee that is not hot.

At the end, preparing coffee is a ritual, and mine (rooted in early life experiences) is just as good as yours and my husband’s. His old La Pavoni workhorse hisses furiously to let him know it is ready, and in response he maneuvers the handle to direct the steam through the basket containing the freshly-ground coffee. As a traditionalist, I was not converted to Brikka; I still reach for my little moka, smiling at its familiar look and feel. Life’s good, it tells me: Here’s your coffee.

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