that’s the thing about drip tray drain systems. they whisk away the water and leave all manner of reject solubles in the nether regions of the tray itself, like some thickening reptilian skin that surprises you when you lift the grate, and … WHOA! full-on swampy caiman pelt.
did this blog feel like paying $36.95 for a bit of catheter and a plastic elbow? it did not. (we’re at least four decades from needing those kinds of personal aids.) seventeen quick trips to home depot later, we had a ready substitute: brass drain fitting, double-sealing o-rings, brass screw-on lead-in and plenty of tube. and since the tay-AH now wears platform shoes, there was just the right amount of space undernearth for a plastic refuse jug.
forget to empty it, and you get the occasional alarming sight of brackish sludge creeping from beneath the hot machine, like some supernatural amoeba invasion that edges up through the floor vents while the party is full swing …
to be clear, we’re sticklers for machine maintenance. how could we NOT be, what with all those thrice-annual guilt-tripping barista mag features: “37 steps to making your la marzocco look even more costly.” “spring cleaning.” “fall cleaning.” “winter solstice cleaning.” “gettin’ steamy with your wand.” “stiff brushes: a primer.” etc. it’s only that, with the fertile terroir in place and a water source overhead, it seems a shame not to attempt some bourbon seedlings. too, this blog believes in composting at source — no middle man, no markup, no needless product processing. call it cup-to-seed integrity.
we’ll let you know when we reach daryn’s heights of coffee forestry.