Still, I was intrigued. There are enough bits and bobs that figuring it out takes more than a second. On the left side is a large water tank in the shape of a lava lamp. On the right is an extra-tall looking brewer, that height masking the built-in bean hopper and grinder. Underneath the brew basket is a large thermal carafe that pours quite well.
The range of options is impressive. You choose the volume of coffee and strength you want, and it controls the amount of water and grounds used. You can tweak water temperature and grind size, and can opt to use the bloom function, a grounds-dampening pre-funk that allows them to release carbon dioxide before the real brew cycle begins. A delay brew function allows you to wake to a hot cup. You can also choose between using a metal or paper flat-bottomed filter. There's even an app that's pleasingly pared-down and utilitarian.
Using French Sumatra beans from Seattle's Lighthouse Roasters, a favorite dark roast of mine, I made my first full pot. Imperfect coffee on the first go is normal, but what was a little more troubling after brewing was finding spent grounds on the underside of the brew basket lid and, more impressively, coating the underside of the showerhead, both of which were a total pain to clean. This came either from static created during grinding—a common problem with grinders—or from grounds being belched upward during brewing. I asked a company rep about this and they confirmed that it could be either, but was "normal." (Facepalm.) Thankfully, this didn't happen every time, and you might be able to get around some of the static by misting beans with a bit of water pre-grind, but when it's a mess, it's a hot one.
From there, I played with temperatures, volumes, and the six grind size settings, working my way toward a cup I liked. There were quirks, but it could make good coffee and I liked playing with the temperature and tasting the effect on the coffee. The machine also has a tiny filter basket which you can use to brew between 6 and 24 ounces of coffee. Full-size brewers that can also make great single cups are an excellent trend over the past few years, but I just got frustrated with this one. The coffee came out thin and depressing, and despite all of the machine's options, it couldn't seem to fix it. If I woke up to a mugful of this, I'd be angry.
Yet this machine's unforgivable sin is the lack of dishwasher-friendliness. It comes with a veritable stack of parts, yet none can go in the dishwasher. Of course a thermal carafe can't go in there, but being able to throw the filter basket, either of the metal filters, and the showerhead in the dee-dub sure would go a long way to tamping down the resentment.
Looking at the Numbers
With testing going up and down, I was happy to bring the Café to the lab at Olympia Coffee Roasters in Seattle, where I was eager to get co-owner and award-winning barista Sam Schroeder's take. Sam noted that combo brewers are simple, but unfortunately if one or the other breaks—the grinder or the brewer—that makes the whole machine useless.
He immediately went ratio hunting, first weighing out the amount of water it ran through in a coffee-less cycle, followed by the amount of dry grounds it made for the same cycle, and determined it was a 1 to 16 grounds-to-water ratio. That was perfect, actually—exactly what it says to use on the bag of Little Buddy beans we were brewing.