My espresso machine started leaking. Yes, a trauma for the middle-class of worrying proportions. It would randomly switch between making espresso just fine, and making espresso whilst pissing water from all around the coffee-holding bit.

The obvious implications of this, are that it ran the risk of watering down my European weapons-grade espresso. Zut alors!

The movie of this will be called, "Nightmare on Pearl St", and star Robert Englund as the spirit of a long dead but insane coffee house barista, haunting the kitchens of Platte Park, terrorising middle-class folk with weakened coffee, poor milk foam and coffee grounds in their drinks.

After some coaxing from friends, that I wouldn't get thrown out of the store for trying to return a nine-month old purchase, I returned to where I had bought the espresso machine, complete with most of the attachments, and a receipt.

They were happy for me to take another of the same model, however, after a bit of soul-searching, I figured that if I spent a little bit more (less than $100, then minus another 20%), I could get a much better machine. So I got an upgrade.

The new machine is the shape of "proper" (ie. damn expensive) espresso machines, and much better constructed than the two budget models I've owned previously. It came with more attachments than J-Lo has had, and a free tin of Illy coffee.

Open closer inspection, the free coffee was a tin of what can best be described as "pods". One of the attachements for the machine, is a second "coffee holder" that is specifically designed for these pods.

Now, I'm kinda old-skool with my espresso. I like using tins of coffee and/or actual beans, so pre-measured pods are witchcraft, as far as I'm concerned. However, free coffee is free coffee, and it's a good brand.

So I spent yesterday morning, experimenting with my new machine and my regular espresso coffee (Lavazza Gold - which despite sounding like a hispanic oldies radio station is actually very good Italian espresso). The thing with espresso machines, and making good lattés, is that you have to learn the idiosyncrasies of each machine, and (said in a Yoda voice), "become one with the espresso machine, you must."

Happy that I'd achieved Jedi powers over my new machine, and not turned to the decaffeinated side of The Force, this morning I ventured into the new and scary world of pods. I say scary, because I have this real aversion to systems that have that Microsoft approach of, "we'll do everything for you, we know what choices you want, you just sit there like a good consumer and let us do it, and anyway, you can't alter what we're doing".

So, to make my usual two-shot latté, I needed to use two pods, and do the thing in two stages. The resultant faff involved with removing stuck pods from the top of the machine, and setting up for the second (brief) shot, didn't win me over. All the time, I was thinking, "Given that I've never seen these pods in any store - and certainly not at any US supermarket, just how expensive are they going to be?". I had visions of having order them online, and them arriving in a Harrods delivery van, all the way from Europe.

Nah, I think I'll still with my regular espresso. Whilst I'm supping that, I might start work on another coffee-related horror film screenplay. This one would be about evil alien-controlled coffee companies, trying to take over the minds and coffee buying habits of people. Working title: "Invasion Of The Pod People"