Moonraker

The industrial evolution of portable espresso When the original Coffeejack V1 debuted on Kickstarter, it was heralded as a miniature marvel—a hydraulic press for your pocket. Reality proved more cynical. Between shipping delays and mixed performance, it became a cautionary tale of crowdfunding hubris. Now, the Coffeejack V2 arrives, trading the flimsy reputation of its predecessor for a massive, 1.4-kilogram chassis of cast stainless steel. This isn't just a revision; it is a total structural pivot. By replacing the hydraulic pump with a planetary gearbox, the manufacturer attempts to address the core failures of the original while maintaining a commitment to a plastic-free water path. The shift from V1 to V2 represents a maturation in engineering. Where the first model felt like a toy, the second feels like a weapon. It is dense, deliberate, and demanding. Lance Hedrick puts this heavyweight through the ringer, evaluating whether a machine this cumbersome can truly claim the title of 'portable' or if it has simply evolved into a niche countertop curiosity for the dedicated manual enthusiast. Engineering the planetary gearbox experience The soul of the V2 lies in its planetary gearbox. Visible through the top of the machine, four gears rotate in unison—a visual flourish reminiscent of the high-end Moonraker from Weber Workshops. This mechanism converts the circular motion of the handle into a linear displacement of a piston, pushing water through the coffee bed. It is a smooth, mechanical process, yet it remains physically taxing. Maintaining a flat nine bars of pressure requires significant forearm strength and a steady grip on the heavy steel body. The water chamber is accessed by unscrewing the top counter-clockwise, a process that takes roughly 27 rotations to fully retract the piston. It holds approximately 90 milliliters of water, though filling it to the brim is a precarious endeavor. The workflow is decidedly 'upside-down.' You prep the 54mm basket, place it onto the shower screen, and screw the retaining ring tight before flipping the entire 1.4-kilogram assembly onto a stand. This inverted methodology ensures there is no air gap between the piston and the water, facilitating a more direct and efficient pressure transfer to the puck. Solving the thermal mass problem One of the greatest enemies of manual espresso is heat loss. With a chunk of stainless steel this large, the thermal mass is significant. Without a preheat, the water temperature in the chamber can plummet to 70°C almost instantly. To achieve the 88-91°C range required for specialty coffee, a rigorous preheating routine is mandatory. Filling the chamber with boiling water for 30 seconds before the actual brew is the bare minimum. In testing, the V2 showed impressive thermal stability once properly saturated. Even back-to-back shots maintained a consistent 88°C internal temperature. While some enthusiasts might find the preheating ritual tedious, it is the price of admission for a machine that avoids microplastics. The water only touches metal, a feature the company heavily markets as a health-conscious alternative to the plastic-heavy designs of competitors like the Wacaco Nanopresso. However, this thermal inertia is a double-edged sword; the machine becomes quite hot to the touch during operation, requiring careful handling of the silicone grips. Pulling shots from dark roasts to geishas The V2 proves its versatility across the roast spectrum, though the experience varies by grind. A dark roast like Saka Crema Bar yields a rich, syrupy shot with ample crema, even at pressures lower than the traditional nine-bar standard. The planetary gears allow for nuanced pressure profiling—a slow ramp-up for pre-infusion followed by a steady peak. However, the machine isn't silent; high-pressure pulls often elicit a high-pitched squeak from the internals, a minor annoyance that may resolve as the gears wear in. Light roasts present a different challenge. Pulling an anaerobic washed geisha from September Coffee requires a faster flow and precise agitation. While the V2 can handle these delicate beans, the lack of a traditional lever makes replicating specific pressure profiles difficult. On a Flair or a Cafelat Robot, the feedback through the lever is tactile and intuitive. On the V2, you are twisting against a gearbox. It is less like driving a manual car and more like operating a winch; you lose that intimate 'feel' for the puck's resistance, making profiling a more calculated, less organic experience. The V1 disaster and the glass chamber flaw To understand the V2, one must revisit the V1, which remains in the lineup despite its flaws. The V1 is a lightweight, plastic-and-glass construction that utilizes a mini-hydraulic press. It is conceptually clever but executionally fragile. During a live demonstration, the V1's fatal flaw was laid bare. The top cap, which relies on a loose friction fit, slipped while being handled, sending the glass water chamber crashing into the sink where it shattered instantly. This catastrophic failure highlights a baffling design choice: why use glass for the water chamber on a machine intended for travel? While the V2 solves this by using stainless steel, the V1’s reliance on glass makes it a liability. Furthermore, the V1’s internal water path is almost entirely plastic, contradicting the 'no microplastics' marketing push of the V2. The V1 also suffers from uneven extraction, as the thin metal basket bottom often deforms against its internal plastic support structure, leading to a concentrated flow in the center of the puck rather than an even distribution. Final verdict on the Coffeejack evolution The Coffeejack V2 is a triumphant redemption for the brand, yet it is a machine with a narrow audience. At roughly £198 ($250 USD), it competes directly with established manual stalwarts. It is built to last a lifetime, provided you maintain the gaskets, and it produces espresso that rivals much larger machines. Its greatest strength is its engineering; the planetary gearbox is a legitimate innovation in the manual space. However, calling it 'portable' is a stretch. Its weight and the requirement for a separate stand and funnel make it more of a 'luggable' machine than a portable one. If you value a plastic-free workflow and enjoy the mechanical theater of gears, the V2 is a solid investment. But for those seeking the most intuitive workflow, a traditional lever machine remains the gold standard. The V2 is for the tinkerer, the gearhead, and the person who wants their coffee maker to double as a piece of industrial art. It is a heavy, squeaky, and demanding teacher, but for those who respect the technique, the results in the cup are undeniable.