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.

Group Head Gaskets... FROM HELL

Once again, the accurate and impassioned knowledge of the CoffeeGeek and Home Barista community taught me two things.

1. Group head gaskets should be replaced every 6 months as part of regularly scheduled maintenance.
2. If group head gaskets have never been replaced on a machine nearly 20 years old, and the rubber composite has been subjected to repeated onslaughts of heat, water, and espresso residue, you will create a fossil.
3. Fossils are neat when you're 7 years old; they suck when they have integrated themselves into your espresso machine.

I didn't even know how deep this gasket went nor where the gasket started and the espresso residue funk on the underside of the group head ended. The gasket was literally as hard as the surrounding brass. I made my inaugural post to the Home Barista forum to be met with great advice with a slight "oh you noob" undertone. Aside from the newbie chiding, I got my answer on how to remove the gaskets, but the execution was where the real challenge began.

I tried using a spoon like their example showed, and then moved on to the church key (paint can opener). Not getting anything other than frustrated, I ventured out to Lowe's in search of the dentist pick set I heard they had. I finally found them after a lot of searching and store employee assistance, and brought them home to beset upon the gasket fossils of terror. $6 and two bent picks later, I decided to try the wood screw approach. I had to use a power screwdriver on low torque and drilled the screw into the gasket. I pulled on it with some needle-nose pliers and the screw came out bringing with it only as much fossilized rubber as the threads had touched. I tried again and again only to leave the gasket slightly pockmarked as if attacked by a persistent, yet retarded woodpecker. It was time to break out the Dremel 4000.

I had to be very careful not to go too deep or too close to the sides as the group head brass was at risk of being deeply gouged, and aside from aesthetics, it could compromise the seal I was desperately trying to restore. I used the smallest engraving bit I could find, and after securing the group head in a vice padded with towels, I started creating a small crater in the fossilized rubber. Afraid to go too deep, I then began prying with a small bladed screwdriver in the crater and managed to work deep enough that the rubber separated. I tried again a few centimeters back from the split, but I had to use a hammer to gently increase the depth of the blade. It finally popped through and broke out a chunk of the fossilized gasket. I had a brief moment of celebration, and then kept chipping away chunks until about 20% of the gasket was out. With a little leverage, I worked the screwdriver under one of the exposed ends and pryed the rest of it out.

Now knowing the process, I was able to get the second gasket out with much more ease than the first. The shower screens on both were in decent shape, but despite soaking and scrubbing with the brass brush, I couldn't get all the gunk out of the fine mesh. After a quick search on Cafe Parts, I decided to replace them both when I replaced the gaskets. It was definitely worth $7 each.

Now that the hard part was over, I still had the task of cleaning and descaling the group heads. I removed the shower diffuser screws and the pre-infusion chamber as well as all the internal springs and pistons within the group head. I found an exploded view of the E61 group head, and took it down to the most basic parts I felt comfortable doing. I reused some of my original acid bath that I saved in a 2 liter coke bottle, and soaked the brass parts overnight. The chromed group head components I just let soak for 10-15 minutes to prevent problems with flaking or discoloration. As the underside and internals of the group heads are brass and don't have the chrome plating, I turned them upside down and filled them with the citric acid solution to make the residue easier to remove and break up some impressive calcium deposits where the hot water pipe inputs were located. With two group heads, it was pretty easy to get a before and after shot of some of the parts, such as the shower diffuser screws. Black vs. Brass.















After the inverted acid soak, I did the best job I could in scrubbing out the grime inside the group heads with the wire brush and shop rag. My main goal was to remove any remnants of rubber that may have sealed to the brass, and to get the loose espresso reside off to prevent off-tastes when I finally got it up and running. I could have probably spent more time cleaning it up to remove the discoloration, but I think functionally, it is good to go.

The steam wand, steam valves, and hot water dispenser were also cleaned during the group head process, but I think they deserve their own post. Stay tuned for my next post: "Steam Punk, Milk Funk".

Interlude: Shoot often or get screwed

I realized I didn't really cover the organizational aspect of this rebuild in too much detail, so I thought I would made a quick post to comment on how not to turn what was a fun and challenging project, into a junk yard nightmare.

The camera I used was a basic 8MP Canon Powershot 850IS. Nothing too fancy, but it got the job done by photo-documenting the tear down and general construction of the machine. The key was to take a wider shot of the machine from several angles of the parts to be removed, then switch to the macro setting (which looks like a flower) and get detailed shots of each piece you remove in the order you remove it. For the long skinny tubing that disappeared behind the frame wall, I took shots of both connection points one after the other so I would know where to put it back. The great advantage of our wonderful digital camera age is the nearly unlimited quantity of photos you can take with nearly instantaneous feedback on quality and framing of the shot. From inception to completion, I took 613 pictures of this espresso machine and it's assorted parts. They were worth their weight in gold when I began reassembly.

Apart from the symphony of brass nuts and copper tubing performing an aria of mechanical exhibitionism, there are a lot of nuts, bolts, washers, and screws inside a machine this size. Thanks to my pack-ratted-ness and frequency of breaking bicycle parts, I had several small zip lock baggies perfect for storing associated hardware. The snack sized zip lock bags would have also worked, but I was too lazy to go to the store. I also used a cheap plastic fishing lure divider with a snapping lid that I found in my tackle box. This allowed me to either label the bags or drop in the divider a post it note describing what the screws, or bolt assemblies belonged to. When I was reattaching the group heads to the frame, I just grabbed the bag labeled, "group head hardware" and reattached it. Same with the "pump motor mount nuts", and the "power box screws". Organization on the front end will save you screaming and hair pulling on the back end, unless you know... that's your thing.

Next post, I promise... the group head gaskets from hell!

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.

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.