The rise and fall of an Italian household name

I blame myself: or myself and George Clooney, if we’re going to spread the culpability around a little. Between us, the Hollywood hunk and I appear to have brought about the untimely demise of a veritable icon of Italian kitchen culture — which is rich in irony for someone who likes to spend summers in his opulent villa on the shores of Lake Como (that’s George, obviously, not me).

Since 2006, the actor has been the public face of Nespresso, the automated push-button capsule machines that have revolutionized the world of coffee. It has been a match made in heaven: both Clooney and the product he promotes are rich, smooth, elegant and tasteful, illustrated in a series of clever, inventive and highly amusing ads for TV and cinema over nearly 20 years.

The marketing and media publication The Drum describes this relationship as “the ultimate brand-celebrity endorsement.” It adds: “In an era in which many brand-celebrity partnerships are short-lived, Clooney’s consistent presence has helped Nespresso maintain a stable and recognizable brand identity, fostering loyalty with its consumers.”

Even if you have never used a Bialetti moka pot, you would know one when you saw it. It is a masterpiece of hydraulic engineering simplicity

Ross Anderson

Not half. The Swiss multinational Nestle launched Nespresso machines and capsules in 1986, initially pitched at business users and eventually domestic coffee lovers. Growth was steady but slow, especially when competitors joined the market in the late 1990s. Then, in 2006, enter George — and Nespresso’s annual revenue surged past £500 million ($621 million). After that, the only way was up. The global Nespresso capsules market was worth more than $7 billion in 2023 and will pass $12 billion by 2032, growing at 5.75 percent a year.

However, where there are winners, there are often losers. In this case, the loser is Bialetti, the Italian kitchen appliance company founded as an aluminum workshop in 1919 and which has, since 1933, manufactured the famous stovetop moka coffee pot that bears its name.

Even if you have never used a Bialetti moka pot, you would know one when you saw it. It is a masterpiece of hydraulic engineering simplicity. The pot has three parts. First, a heavy-bottomed lower chamber, into which you pour cold water. Second, a screw-on upper chamber with a handle and a pouring spout. Finally, in the center of the upper chamber, a metal filter into which you tamp down the best quality ground coffee you can find. As the water heats and boils, it percolates up through the filter and the ground coffee and discharges into the upper chamber as liquid coffee, and thence into your cup.

The Bialetti will never produce the thick, smooth crema you find in a good espresso, but it is foolproof: the quality of the finished coffee it makes is in direct proportion to the quality of the ground coffee you put in it, and you can’t say fairer than that. In 2010, it was estimated that 90 percent of Italian kitchens had a Bialetti moka pot on the stove, which is pretty much the definition of a household name.

Another reason for Bialetti’s misfortunes is that the moka pot market has been flooded with cheap, shoddy knockoffs

Ross Anderson

Although not for much longer. Bialetti has been in financial difficulties for years — since about 2006, in fact, a year that by now may be familiar to you. The company is now a whopping €90.3 million ($93.9 million) in debt, up from just over €78.2 million in 2018, and has been looking for a buyer since 2023. It has now found one, in the shape of the Chinese investment vehicle Nuo Capital. In a tale awash with irony, that is another one: apart from the inexorable rise of Nespresso, another reason for Bialetti’s misfortunes is that the moka pot market has been flooded with cheap, shoddy knockoffs manufactured in — yes, you guessed correctly. “Bialetti, Made in China” is not a phrase that is going to sell a lot of coffee pots. The end is surely nigh.

By now, you are undoubtedly wondering about my role in all this, alongside that of Clooney. OK, I may have exaggerated it.

It begins with the fact that I can serve no useful purpose in the morning until I have had a double espresso, preferably two. In pursuit of the perfect shot, I have probably owned more coffee machines than Starbucks and Caffe Nero combined: Dalla Corte, Faema, Gaggia, La Pavoni, La Cimbali, I’ve had ‘em all. If I had all the money back that I have spent on these contraptions, I could buy my own coffee plantation in Colombia. One by one, they drove me insane, they went on eBay and I returned to my first love, the Bialetti moka pot — until 2006 (that year again), when I purchased my first Nespresso machine.

It is about the law of diminishing returns. The Nespresso, although sneered at by coffee snobs and purists, makes really, really good espresso. There are professional barista machines that do it better — but only marginally, and that’s after 30 minutes of faffing around with grinding the beans, tamping, adjusting the water temperature and pressure, and checking more dials and gauges than the flight deck of the space shuttle. The Nespresso takes 30 seconds from a cold start. No contest.

But still, the guilt. If Alfonso Bialetti were alive today, I would apologize. I’m sure Clooney would too. I’m told he’s a really nice guy.

• Ross Anderson is associate editor of Arab News.