I remember my first real espresso shot.
Not the ones I practiced at home. The first one I pulled behind a real bar, with someone waiting on the other side of the counter.
I thought I had it. Grind looked good. Tamp felt solid. I locked it in and hit the button.
Five seconds later, a pale, runny stream shot out like it was embarrassed. Thin crema. Smelled sour. I handed it over with a smile, but inside, I wanted to crawl under the espresso machine.
Turns out, espresso doesn’t care how confident you look. It only cares about what’s happening in those 30 seconds.
I spent the next few months messing up. A lot. Wasting coffee. Burning my hand on the group head. Forgetting to purge. Over-tamping. Under-dosing. You name it.
But slowly, things started to click. Not because I memorized rules. Because I paid attention. And because a few kind baristas didn’t roll their eyes when I asked the same question twice.
If you’re just starting or if your shots feel inconsistent here are the 10 things that actually helped me. No fluff. Just what worked.
1. Start with beans that aren’t dead.
I know that sounds harsh. But stale beans? They’re basically flavor ghosts.
I used to grab whatever was on the shelf. Then I tasted a shot from beans roasted eight days prior and wow. Big difference.
Now I check the date like it’s expiration on milk. Between 7 and 21 days? That’s the sweet spot. Before that, they’re still gassing off. After? They start to fade.
It’s not snobby. It’s just honest.
2. Grind fresh and adjust every day.
Your grinder isn’t “set and forget.” Humidity changes. Coffee ages. The machine heats up differently in winter.
I used to leave my grind setting for days. Bad idea. One morning, my shot pulled in 18 seconds. Tasted like lemon water.
Now, I pull a test shot first thing. If it’s too fast, I go finer. Too slow, coarser. I don’t serve coffee until it’s in that 25–30 second window.
It takes five minutes. But it saves hours of bad espresso.
3. Use a scale. Seriously.
I resisted this for way too long. “I can eyeball it,” I told myself.
Spoiler: I couldn’t.
Some days I’d dose 17 grams. Others, 21. No wonder my shots were all over the place.
Once I started weighing 19 grams, every time things got way more consistent. The scale doesn’t lie.
It’s not overkill. It’s how you learn.
4. Tamp like you mean it but evenly.
Tamping isn’t about strength. It’s about even pressure.
I used to slam it down, thinking more force = better. Nope. That just made the puck uneven.
Now I level the grounds first. Then I tamp with steady pressure, both hands, keeping it flat.
If your wrist twists even a little, the water channels. And once it channels, the shot’s already lost.
5. Purge the group head. Every. Single. Time.
Old coffee burns in there. It sticks. It ruins the next shot.
I forgot this all the time at first. Then a customer said, “Tastes like ash.” They weren’t wrong.
Now, I run a quick burst of water through the group head before every shot. Clears out the old stuff. Stabilizes the temp.
Five seconds. That’s all it takes.
6. Time the shot. Don’t guess.
I used to stop when it “looked right.” Big mistake.
Now I start the timer the second the first drop falls. I aim for 25 to 30 seconds for a double.
If it’s faster, it’s under-extracted. Slower, and it might be choking.
Timing gives you feedback. Without it, you’re just guessing.
7. Watch the flow.
The timer helps. But your eyes tell you more.
A good shot starts slow just a few drops then builds into a steady, honey-like stream. Both sides should flow the same.
If one side sprays or runs faster, something’s off. Usually the tamp or grind.
I’ve learned to catch it before the cup’s even full.
8. Warm up the portafilter.
This one took me way too long to figure out.
Cold metal pulls heat from the water. That kills extraction and crema.
Now, I either leave the portafilter locked in the group head or flush hot water through it before dosing.
Makes the shot richer. Smoother. Just… better.
9. Clean between shots.
It’s easy to skip. But old grounds burn and taste bitter.
After every shot, I knock out the puck, wipe the basket, and check the gasket. If it’s gunked up, I clean it.
Yeah, it’s a pain. But clean gear means clean flavor.
And honestly? It feels good to keep things tidy.
10. Taste the bad ones.
I used to dump off shots without a second thought.
Then I started tasting them. Even the sour ones.
Sour? Probably under-extracted. Bitter? Likely overdone or channeled.
Tasting the mistake taught me more than any perfect shot ever did.
Now, I sip every shot good or bad. If it’s off, I adjust. If it’s good, I remember what I did.
I still mess up.
Some days, the grind won’t cooperate. Other times, a new batch of beans behaves differently.
But I don’t panic. I go back to these basics. I adjust. I try again.
Espresso doesn’t reward speed. It rewards patience.
When I get it right when the shot pours slow, the crema is thick, and the flavor is sweet and balanced I feel it.
That quiet pride. That Yes. This is it.
If you’re just starting, don’t expect perfection.
Expect progress. Pay attention. Fix one thing at a time.
Because the best espresso isn’t pulled.
It’s earned.
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