Make Lockdown Coffee Like a Boss!
When everything else fails, your coffee can be great
Coffee is a big part of my life. It helps me function, feel human, able to face the world, able to watch the news at night.
There is nothing better than a great cup of espresso coffee made by a pro. Give me a tiny table in one of Melbourne’s laneway cafés, a mug of flat white, and a cakey bit to munch on, I’m good for a week or so.
Missing my barista coffees during the iso. Things are relaxing now, but hey, good luck finding a café with an empty seat, and a good coffee in a takeaway cup loses its attraction.
Like drinking good champagne out of a plastic flute. It’s okay, but not great.
Homeshooting

I have a home espresso machine, and it makes good coffee. Good, but not great. The main problem is that I can’t make a mug’s worth. The “double shot” holder is good for half a mug and then another shot is too weak, or I have to reload and the first one loses its warmth while I fuss around.
The positives are numerous. It’s fair dinkum espresso, so it tastes good without being bitter, it’s made from fresh ground coffee rather than a pod, it has a nice crema, and I can froth up some milk if I want, using the steam wand.
Not quite press the button for instant joy: I have to grind the coffee, measure it out, tamp it down, warm the tubes with an empty shot, screw the head on, and then press the button.
But hey, home espresso. Real coffee.
Coffee on the road
I travel a lot, and good coffee can be hard to come by. In Iran, for example, unless you haunt the trendy — and very good — cafés in Tehran espresso machines are few and far between and even scarcer are good baristas. I stayed in the top hotel in Isfahan, and joy of joys, they had an espresso machine. Oh how we Aussies lined up!
Sadly, the guy operating it hadn’t a clue. Hot brown liquid poured out and was served, but there the resemblance ceased.
Luckily I had my Aeropress with me, and I could make coffee in my room.
Six months ago, I grew weary of replacing my Aeropress every so often. The plastic can’t take the pressure and after a while the seal isn’t as tight as it could be. Not to mention the sharp little bits of ground coffee wearing away at the rubber. I must have eight or nine of the things. They aren’t expensive, they are light and small for travel, but they aren’t a lifetime purchase.
Welcome to my Delter
Enter the Delter. A similar concept, but made from a stronger plastic, a better brewing chamber design, and one-way valves that don’t get worn down by the coffee grounds.

Let’s look at it from the bottom up.
There’s the black brewing chamber with three tabs to sit on the rim of your cup — in this case a glass so as to see the glorious coffee being extracted.
It has a grid bottom to let the coffee out and inside you put a circular filter. I’ve got about a million spare Aeropress filters, so I’ve been working my way through those. They are a touch larger than the official Delter ones, but they work just fine.
The coffee goes in here and the clear plastic tube screws into it.
Just above the black base, inside the tube, are the “jet” valves. They are kind of dimples in a flexible black plastic disc that is fixed into the tube. Hot water is forced in under pressure through the valves, passing through the coffee, through the filter and into the cup beneath.
They are one-way valves, so if the piston is drawn up again to load in more water for a second shot, no coffee or water comes up with it.
Above you can see the clear tube and the clear piston inside. Press down to create pressure.







