In a shocking twist that will change exactly zero lives but might mildly impress your in-laws, we’re pleased to report that the Moka Pot is back. Yes, that stovetop coffee contraption your European cousin swears by—and insists is the only real way to make coffee—is enjoying something of a relaunch. And while that might sound like the caffeine equivalent of rebooting Friends, it’s also an excuse to reflect on how this iconic brewer came to be… thanks to, wait for it, a washing machine.
That’s right. The next time you’re elbow-deep in a sock vortex and wondering where your sanity went, take comfort in the fact that one of the world’s most famous coffee makers was invented under similar conditions.
The Birth of a Legend, via Laundry
Picture Italy in the early 1930s. Mussolini was busy ruining everything, but somewhere far from politics and closer to soap bubbles, Alfonso Bialetti stood in his kitchen watching his wife operate a washing machine. Because before we had screen time, we had appliance time.
This particular machine, called a “lisciveuse,” used steam pressure to force soapy water up a tube and back down over clothes. To most of us, that sounds like something best left to plumbers. But to Bialetti—an aluminum engineer with a mustache that practically invented itself—it sounded like coffee.
And so, the Moka Pot was born. For more on this pivotal moment in caffeinated history, Serious Eats offers an oddly reverent breakdown of the Moka Pot’s origin story that manages to make steam pressure sound spiritual.
Espresso for the People. Or at Least for the Stove.
Before Bialetti, making espresso at home required a machine that cost roughly the same as a used Fiat and looked like something you’d find in the background of a Jules Verne novel. The Moka Pot, with its simple three-chambered design and aluminum flair, was like giving espresso to the masses.
No moving parts. No plugs. No apps. Just water, coffee grounds, and a little stovetop alchemy. And sure, the result wasn’t technically espresso—because it lacks the nine bars of pressure required by purists—but if you’re a sleep-deprived parent trying to survive a Wednesday morning, the Moka Pot doesn’t just make coffee. It makes hope.
Sunday Baker’s historical roundup even suggests that the Moka Pot represents a domestic revolution of sorts—though admittedly one fought with coffee rather than pitchforks (source).
Meet the Little Man With the Mustache
No history of the Moka Pot is complete without addressing its most charming detail: the Bialetti mascot. A squat cartoon man in a suit, brandishing a finger in the air like he’s just remembered something incredibly important, possibly about biscotti.
He’s based on Bialetti’s son, Renato, who took over the company and transformed it into a household name, possibly by yelling at every neighbor until they bought one. That finger-pointing fellow is still on every Bialetti Moka Pot today, silently judging your brew timing like a caffeinated conscience.
As Bialetti’s own website explains, the brand leaned heavily into this mascot and the idea of Italian family culture. Which makes sense—who doesn’t want a small mustached man critiquing them first thing in the morning?
The Global Takeover (and the Oddly Aggressive Gurgling Sound)
Post-WWII, the Moka Pot went international. Like the Beatles, but with crema. It stormed kitchens from Naples to New York, delighting budget-conscious caffeine addicts everywhere. Parents rejoiced at the idea of making something “fancy” at home—without having to remortgage the house for a shiny new espresso machine.
And yes, it makes that famous gurgling sound when it’s almost done brewing. It’s not a bug, it’s a feature. Like your toddler loudly announcing their bathroom plans in the middle of a Zoom call, the Moka Pot’s sputter is just part of the charm.
Moka vs. Modernity: A Standoff in the Kitchen
Today, the Moka Pot is not only still around, it’s being relaunched. In the same way vinyl records are back or people have decided manual typewriters are charming again, the Moka Pot is proof that sometimes the old ways are worth revisiting—even if they occasionally leave burnt coffee on your stovetop.
Of course, in our current world of automatic espresso machines, pod-based coffee systems, and Bluetooth-enabled kettles, using a Moka Pot is akin to driving a stick shift on purpose. It’s an act of rebellion. It’s slow. It requires attention. It might even require reading the instructions, which, for modern parents, is the real act of bravery.
But it’s also ritualistic. Quiet. Analog. And dare we say, human.
All Hail the Laundry-Born Legend
So the next time you find yourself cursing at a laundry machine or trying to remember why socks never travel in pairs, just know this: greatness can come from soapy chaos. Alfonso Bialetti turned a sudsy moment of domestic life into a legacy that lives on nearly a century later.
And if that doesn’t make you appreciate your morning cup more, nothing will.
Unless of course, your kid spills it. Then you’re back to square one.