My name is Gusto…Dolce..Gusto. And I’m a Cock.

Single serve espresso capsule machines have been popular among those who want quick, no mess, quality espresso based coffee drinks at the touch of a button in the convenience of their own home.  The technology behind it has been around for awhile, particularly the mechanism of inserting pods or capsules sealed with ground coffee, into a machine that subsequently pierces the capsules, pumps hot water under high pressure so that a shot of espresso is brewed in a matter of seconds.

Nestle in collaboration with traditional coffee machine manufacturers such as Krups, Delonghi and Philips launched a line of machines around 2000 under the brand name, Nespresso.  Nespresso machines gained popularity through their appealing and exclusive marketing strategies which included setting up Nespresso boutiques or Nespresso bars.  These were nice looking, modern contemporary designed outlets with a coffee bar, knowledgeable barristers and salespersons, inviting customers to drink or sample at least 16 premium quality capsules called “Grand Crus”.  Customers are then invited to purchase the machines and pods.  The multi colored pods for different coffee roasts and endorsements of the Nespresso brand by celebrities like George Clooney helped catapult the Nespresso brand into popularity.  The brand aimed at a high end luxury market.  These boutiques were the only places you could buy the machine.

Nespresso machine owners were entitled to join an exclusive Nespresso club, allowing them the convenience of purchasing their coffee pods online and having them delivered to your doorstep free of charge.  In fact, the internet is the only way to purchase the Nespresso pods.

Nespresso stood out from the crowd with its stylish marketing design, promoted as premium coffee for coffee aficionados, wannabes or posers- very much like what Apple did with the ipad, iphone and ipods.

I had to join the Nespresso club.  I called George Clooney himself to secure a machine for me.  Its unavailability further amplified the niche exclusivity of Nespresso owners, particularly in Malaysia.  For around 2 years I’ve been marinating in my delusion of bourgeoisie exclusivity with my machine. My romance with my machine was shortlived….

Recently, an unwelcomed intruder has emerged, with only one objective and this is to destroy the very exclusivity that Nespresso has created.  This unwelcome intruder wants to eradicate all barriers of class distinction and segregation in society.  It wants to bring the single serve espresso machines which at one point were only to be enjoyed by a certain cross section of society to the masses.

The name of this intruder is Dolce Gusto….  And I don’t like him…I don’t like him at all because Dolce gusto is an imposter, he’s a thief and a fraud with a stupid name he stole from a greasy haired Italian wrestler or some hairy chested, medallion wearing Lamborghini driving euro-trash.  This is how the douce-bag Dolce looks like…

 

It’s like a Chinese company selling fake Italian high end furniture calling themselves Vicenzo.. except this one looks like a robotic grasshopper.

Dolce Gusto smuggled himself into the shores of Malaysia recently- cloaked as a savior to society by introducing single serve espresso machines to the masses.  Dolce whores himself out at a ridiculously affordable price of RM300 and makes himself available at any generic supermarket in the country.  In other words any commoner purchasing a sack of potatoes to feed his family of 12 famine plagued children can also pick up an espresso machine.

They stack these Dolce Gusto machines like sacks of rice in Tesco, Carrefour and Jusco – quite a contrast to the sophisticated experience of purchasing a Nespresso machine where you almost felt like you had to be invited by the Earl of Knightsbridge just to buy one.

Inherently the Dolce Gustos are identical to the Nespresso machines in terms of function- both deliver a decent cup of coffee, the difference indiscernible to the common coffee drinking poser, like me.

Dolce Gusto’s invasion of this market has made coffee drinking posers like me extremely uncomfortable, distressed and almost disgusted.  We tremble at the thought that our perceived status and reputation in society is extinguished. Nespresso’s niche pretentiousness is going extinct.

While I brag about my Nespresso club privileges to my pretend friends of only being able to purchase my coffee pods with an expensive broadband connection and having them delivered to me fresh from Ecuador,  the common peasants hoping to reload their capsule supply would have to venture to the bowels of supermarkets like Jusco, Carrefour and Tesco, engage in unconstructive conversation with the villagers who work there on precisely where they can pick up these capsules, only to realize that the villager has no idea what the pompous wannabe is babbling about- leaving him stranded and lost amid rude Chinese people with crazed children running amok, foul odourned common folk and crowds of barbarians who speak in medieval dialects.

The sad thing is that although these peasants would have to endure grave difficulty and frustration to obtain their coffee capsules, once they finally succeed in doing so, they will hold their chin up proudly and tell all their friends that they have a Nespresso machine– the Dolce Gusto model.