Steam Punk, Milk Funk

The front upper cowl of the machine housed the steam knobs, steam wands, and hot water dispenser in addition to the (limited) electronics for the control pads. This had been set to the wayside while tackling the core of the machine, and at this point it was time to give it some attention.

The first thing I noticed was the missing steam wand from the right side. Upon closer inspection, it had been broken off at the ball joint (shown below). A quick parts search and $67 later, I had a new stainless steel wand with a no-burn elbow for repositioning en route. Not sure why, but it appears the left group head gets more attention on these machines and the steam wand gets more use on the right. I'm sure the equipment setup would dictate a lot of which side is easier to pull from and which side is easier to steam milk. If you had the staff, I'm sure both could be done in tandem; as I know for a fact, that beast of a boiler would give you all the hot water and steam you could possibly need with both barrels blasting. Anyway, I made a mental not that upon reassembly, I was going to install it on the left hand side. It was pretty and I wanted to show it off.

The second thing I noticed was the funk and grime that was built up on the underside of the cover and the near total obstruction of the screen for the hot water dispenser with calcium deposits and crud. It wouldn't be until I took apart the steam valves and wands that I would discover the fossilized milk crud that was subdividing apartments in the steam wand ghetto.





It was gross, but at least it was solid and crusty and didn't provide an odor. I disassembled the steam valves and the hot water valve and started snapping pictures so I would be sure to put the parts back together correctly. I still had the citric acid bath I used for the group heads (from hell) so after dis-assembly, I soaked the parts for 10-15 minutes and then scrubbed them with the brass brush. I left the copper and brass in for a bit longer, but I wanted to get the chromed parts out so the acid would clean, but not damage them. The hot water valve looked almost brand new. The before and after photo of the previously crud filled steam valve was also impressive.











There wasn't much to clean on the electronics, and to my dismay there was a chip out of the corner of one of the control pad frames, but for the price of a new one, I was willing to live with some aesthetic degradation. I scrubbed the stainless cowl with some water and Simple Green to remove as much grime and dirt as possible and then gave it the Macguires Step 1 car polish routine I had given the other high gloss stainless parts. It turned out looking nice, but the quick barista-wipe-down-job-around-the-knobs swirls were still there, and like the control panel, I'm willing to live with the "lived in look" of the machine over paying a fabrication shop to electroplate the stainless to bring it back to a flawless mirror shine.
Before

After

I reassembled the parts onto the cowl and then set it aside until I was ready to install it over the group heads on the frame. At this point, I have soaked, scrubbed, cleaned, and polished all the parts of the machine. The frame is primed, painted and reassembled, and it's time to put this beast back together. Wait patiently (amidst diaper changes, gardening, and home canning) for the next chapter: Easier to Assemble Than an IKEA Bookshelf.

Always Dive in Head First

When I first brought the machine home, I took the cup warmer tray off the top and looked down inside with very little idea what anything was aside from the obvious boiler, and what specifically I needed to do to get the boiler out to drain the water. Now that I was ready to "do this thing," I located the few screws that held the rear panel on the machine and removed them exposing all the tasty contents of 5 years of abandonment.

The accumulation of steam and condensation served as an oily glue which trapped any dirt, dust, spilled coffee, or grime that might have been floating around in the restaurant. I saw a few Sweet n' Low packets which I thought might have been accidentally dropped into the top of the cup tray until I realized that they were arranged in a nest. A mouse nest, replete with droppings. Mice weren't the only inhabitants as several insect carcasses were found near the power switch unit, which I guess warmed up and made a nice place to live while it was in operation. It was becoming very apparent that this machine was going to need a good cleaning. Even though none of what I could see so far touched the final espresso product, I just couldn't make coffee with a machine I knew was full of mouse turds.

Armed with a Canon Powershot 850SD IS digital camera and an assortment of wrenches, I started removing the copper tubing, wiring, and connections inside. I made sure to take photos of the broad area and macro shots of the individual connections so I would have a reference for reassembly. In no time at all, I had the motor, pump, and boiler out and sitting on the work bench accompanied by a pile of copper tubing. All that was left was the frame, the boiler water level gauge, pressure gauge, and wiring connections.















I had about enough for one evening, and with the boiler removed, I did manage to slosh a bit of water out of it. However, at this point I knew I wasn't just going to put it back together. It needed some TLC to restore its former glory, but I had to figure out just how to do that.

Retail, Re-Use, Rebuild

"Un'arte tutta italiana"

Espresso is a synonym for Italy, the Italian art to live. The art to appreciate the pleasures in life.

I've had several people ask me what in the world I'm going to do with a 2 group commercial espresso machine that runs on 220V, eats 3200 watts, and requires a water line plumbed into the machine. Honestly, at one point I was happy to convert it to a coffee table and all the glorious punning associated with making a table from a giant immovable coffee machine. However, I think the real appeal is summed up in the quote above. The art to appreciate the pleasures in life. I wanted the pursuit of the perfect espresso to be as enjoyable as the taste once this adventure is complete.

I can't tell what year my machine is based on the information provided on the model/serial number sticker, but I found a few component numbers on the internals that leads me to believe this was built some time in the 90's. Either way, it's identified as:

Model: HE Michelangelo 2
Serial Number 99041939
Voltage: 208/220
Wattage: 3200

I started looking for any information possible on these machines, what the used ones sell for now, what they used to retail for, and what their current comprable product offering included. To complicate things a bit, the original Italian manufacturer licensed a Heidelberg Germany factory to sell them and eventually to start manufacturing them. After a few years the two companies broke up to become ECM (Espresso Coffee Machines) and ECM Manufacture (German Version). ECM Manufacture went on to improve upon the original design eventually releasing the Technika, Mechanika etc. Mine appears to have been manufactured in Milan, Italy at the original ECM factory. They are still in business as far as I know and are still manufacturing and selling the Michelangelo A2. For a US contact, I found Burgess Enterprises through the forums. They service and sell a variety of espresso machines, grinders, coffee carts, and even provide barrista training. I contacted them to see if they had any user manuals, parts catalogs, etc... that I could use in discerning what to do with my machine. Don Paschal quickly responded with a schematics / parts catalog, an ECM Sorrento Maintenance document, and a user manual. Very helpful and I will most likely contact him as I find seals, gaskets, and other parts that may need replacement in the rebuild. I've also located through the various forums www.CoffeeParts.com which is based in Australia. Just the cardboard-esq gasket that fits between the front plate and the group head is $21 each. The heating element is $120. The pump $180. I could sell this thing off in pieces and still come out ahead. I can't imagine a Harlem junk car type landscape with the bare frame and a few scrap pieces of tubing hanging out, so I think I'll stick to the rebuild and be careful not to destroy anything expensive to replace in the process.

So, now I had a parts schematic and a general idea of what to do to operate the machine should I ever get it working again. If I decided I was going to sell it after fixing it, I wanted to know what kind of ballpark market price these machines fetch used. Turns out... a lot more than I paid for it. I've found several postings on www.CoffeeGeek.com and www.home-barista.com where people have found an old ECM Michelangelo A2 for $1000, and their post was followed by accolades of "what a great deal you've found" and "even if you put another $1000 - $1500 into it, you can get your money back out of it". Reconditioned and rebuilt machines are fetching somewhere between $2200 and $4000. With that said, it looks as though new, you had to shell out between $5200 to $7800 for a new ECM Michelangelo A2. I think the upper bracket included the A3 which was a 3 group setup and featured a larger boiler. Even as I write this, there's a single group ECM Sorrento for sale on Craiglist in Greenville, SC for $1600. So... I got a $2200-$4000 espresso machine for $125. That just feels good.

In the Beginning...

Being a chronic coffee connoisseur (addict) and Craigslist devotee, it was not long before I found the bargain of a lifetime. Someone in beautiful Parrotsville, TN (near Newport) was selling a 2 group commercial espresso machine. There were no pictures and very little information available, but for $150, I had to jump on it. I was still using the Salton espresso machine my sister had given me to use in college and I had all but worn it out. On my way out, my girlfriend (now wife) Krissy called me to see what I was doing that night.

"Driving to Parrotsville to buy an espresso machine off Craigslist."

After a long 2 hour drive, I arrived at the pickup location... some kind of ranch / wilderness resort / retreat with cabins and a dining hall. They would take people out on horseback rides or fishing on the nearby lakes and creeks. The espresso machine lay inside the dining hall. It was back in a dark kitchen and walking back there I had a momentary vision of the worst possible outcome of being in the middle of nowhere to pick up a deal too good to be true. The walk-in freezer could hold a poker game worth of corpses alone, not to mention the ample rural burial land. But there in the faint light I saw it... or at least something large and appliance-shaped. An ECM Michelangelo A2 commercial 2 group espresso machine. This thing was enormous and I was beginning to question how I was going to fit it in the car, much less carry it.

The guy told me his parents ran the ranch for several years before handing it over to him and they purchased the machine 5 years prior for $500, but never hooked it up or tried it to see if it worked. It had just been sitting in the kitchen waiting for someone to do something with it. With no guarantee that the thing would even work, I was able to negotiate a price of $125 and we proceeded to carry it to my little Saturn 4 door sedan. Due to the height and depth of it, we couldn't fit it in the trunk, so with some considerable man-handling of the 100lb + behemoth, we wedged it in the back seat. I drove home having no idea what I was going to do with it, but thrilled it was mine.

I called a neighbor to help me unload it and get it in the house. We put it on my dining room table and it spanned the width and half the length. I was a little concerned it would collapse the legs, but it seemed to hold. From that point over the next several months, I moved it to the floor, back to the table, and eventually to the garage on a workbench where it sat while I updated my house to put it on the market.

I moved it to the basement garage when I moved in with Krissy, and there it sat while we planned a wedding and repaired various things around the house. Then one day, I had 4 hours completely free in the afternoon and it was time to see what was inside that beast. At the very least, I wanted to drain the water that had been sloshing around inside the boiler for 6 years or more.