Let me tell you a little story about trauma. Not the emotional kind — the kind that happens when you spend $6 on a latte that tastes like melted shoe polish because the barista’s grinder was made in 1997 and calibrated by Satan himself.
So I took matters into my own over-caffeinated hands and bought the Baratza Encore ESP, aka the “please god let this be the last grinder I buy before I become insufferable on coffee Reddit.”
Was I skeptical? Absolutely. The last time someone said “great entry-level espresso grinder,” I ended up with a machine that made noises like a dying blender and shot grinds sideways like it was reenacting a hostage scene. But this thing — it had the look of something that might actually care about my dreams.
First Impressions: She’s Built Like a Budget Tesla
You open the box and boom — sleek black matte finish that screams “I’ve read one too many third-wave coffee blogs.” This thing looks like it pays taxes. And it doesn’t come to play.
Except… the buttons feel like they were borrowed from a microwave made during the Cold War. The ON switch? Clicks like it’s signing a divorce paper. Functional, but emotionally distant.
The footprint is compact, like “I live in a 400 sq ft apartment with emotional baggage and no counter space” compact. And yet it still looks professional enough that your friends might assume you know how to spell ‘cappuccino’ without Googling it. Bonus points if you angle it just right for Instagram.
Also, the hopper lid? Surprisingly satisfying. Not “I’ve got my life together” satisfying, but definitely “I can justify this purchase to my partner” satisfying. If it had RGB lights, I’d probably propose to it.
The Grind Settings: 40 Clicks of “Am I a Barista Yet?”
You want espresso? Cool, settings 1–20. You want pour over? Settings 21–40. You want to screw it all up and make cowboy coffee like your grandpa with a vengeance? That’s on you, brother.
I’m using it for espresso, obviously, because I hate myself and enjoy chasing the mythical “God Shot” like it’s the Holy Grail mixed with ketamine. And to my complete shock — it actually holds its own. The grind size consistency? It’s like the grinder took Adderall and finally got its life together.
You know what really sold me, though? The grind dial doesn’t feel like some vague suggestion. It has clicks. Real clicks. You turn it and feel like you’re cracking a safe full of caffeine dreams. Is it stepless? No. Does it matter when you’re already grinding your patience and bank account into oblivion? Also no.
And unlike most “beginner grinders” that lie straight to your face, the Encore ESP doesn’t immediately choke your espresso machine with inconsistent pebbles. I’ve pulled shots that made me weep softly into my portafilter. That’s love.
The Dosing Cup: Your Counter Will Still Look Like a Cocaine Bust
Yes, it comes with a cute little dosing cup. Yes, it fits 54mm portafilters. Yes, there’s a 58mm adapter if you’re fancy.
No, it will not save your counter from looking like a coffee crime scene. Static cling is real. Your first five grinds will coat your hands, your cat, and half your kitchen in microgrounds. But hey — that’s just the price of chasing greatness.
Also, let’s be honest, this cup is basically Baratza’s way of saying, “You’re not ready for single dosing yet, but we’re going to pretend you are.” It’s a gateway tool. One day you’ll be using it like a professional. The next, you’re dropping $80 on a WDT tool and naming your espresso machine.
But it’s not all chaos — the cup does help you level your shots better than just eyeballing like a caveman. And it makes the transfer from grinder to portafilter less of a “dump and pray” ritual. That’s a win in my book.
Daily Use: It’s Like Dating Someone With ADHD
Turn it on. Wait for the grind. Forget you turned it on. Hear it screaming like it’s grinding bones. Panic. Remember it’s just beans.
Cleaning is easy though — pop off the burrs and boom, you’re halfway to being a YouTube coffee influencer. You will eventually say the phrase “retention is minimal” and hate yourself.
Let’s talk retention — yeah, it’s a little messy, but we’ve all accepted that coffee, like life, is inherently chaotic. If you want zero retention, go spend $800 on a niche zero and see how long it takes before your wallet files for bankruptcy. This thing holds just enough grounds to annoy you, not enough to ruin your brew.
As for noise? It’s not whisper-quiet, but it’s not “jet engine at 6 AM” either. Somewhere in between a food processor and your roommate’s snoring. Acceptable, unless you’re grinding at 3 AM during a midlife crisis, in which case… maybe reevaluate your priorities before blaming the machine.
Final Verdict: Buy It If You Love Caffeine and Hate Regret
Pros:
✔ Excellent grind quality for espresso and filter
✔ Dual-range grind dial makes you feel like a coffee sniper
✔ Doesn’t cost as much as your rent
✔ Baratza actually supports repairs like they’re IKEA for caffeine nerds
Cons:
✘ Buttons feel like they came from a ’90s printer
✘ Static mess will have you questioning your life choices
✘ Not stepless, so precision-freaks might cry into their latte art
Score: 9/10 – Would Grind Again
