The term “prosumer” was coined by American writer and futurist Alvin Toffler in his 1980 book The Third Wave. Though Toffler was alive during the proliferation of the coffee industry’s so-called third wave (he died in 2016), his book has nothing to do with neighborhood cafés transitioning from grungy gathering places with names like Kewl Beanz to minimalist cupping labs replete with white subway tile, reclaimed barn wood, and mustachioed caricatures of urbane liberal arts grads.
Initially the term was purposefully vague, referring broadly to a class of citizens who “ … consume and produce value, either for self-consumption or consumption by others.” It’s since been co-opted by irksome gearheads like myself as a mild pejorative for high-end gadgetry that’s a price class above that which the commoner can afford, but still well below the threshold of what anyone who uses said gadget for a living would ever consider adding to their toolkit.
It’s unsurprising that the coffee industry is plagued with prosumer gear that’s aggressively marketed toward caffeine addicts who are excited about doing their neighborhood comparative studies major’s work for them in the comfort of their own home.
As a former barista who was spoiled for more than a decade on $15,000 espresso machines from brands like La Marzocco and Rancilio, I am adamantly opposed to taking matters into my own hands. I would rather leave my house and pay a professional with a hangover and a bad attitude to pull my shot than mess about with a flimsy machine that uses vibey colorways and quirky features to distract from the lack of firepower or consistency.
The delta between a workhorse commercial-grade espresso machine and that hunk of metallic junk with a silly Italian name you’ll add to your wedding registry at Target is vast—generally in the ballpark of several thousand dollars. Is the desire for home-brewed espresso a sincere justification for rolling the dice on a machine that can’t possibly touch the quality of what the pros use?
Down to Business
My current abode is the first place I’ve lived in my adult life that’s not a short walk to a coffee shop, so I figured it’s a better time than any to see whether the home espresso machine market has finally figured its shit out. The $200-ish range on Amazon is quite crowded with junk brands, but respectable prosumer brands like Breville and De’Longhi materialize once you move upmarket past the $500 mark. This is where I found the Casabrews 5700PRO, a no-nonsense machine that boasts a handful of predictable features that looked like they would get the job done without lecturing me on extraction times or playing “La Cucaracha” every time I pulled a shot.
Photograph: Pete Cottell
