Best French Press Coffee Makers

The Espro P7 is the weirdest French press in this test, and I mean that mostly as a compliment. It is clearly a French press: you add coffee, pour water, wait, and press. But once you use it, it doesn't feel like a normal French press with a nicer handle. The whole thing is built around Espro’s deep dual micro-filter basket, which traps the grounds under two fine filters and leaves a pocket of coffee behind at the bottom instead of letting you pour every last muddy drop into your cup.

That system works. In our first grit test, the P7 left 0.40 grams of sediment, already better than our old top performers. In the second test, where we brewed closer to Espro’s recommended max amount and disturbed the lid less while pouring, the dried filter showed almost nothing beyond a light brown trace. By weight, that second run was about 0.10 grams of sediment. That is the cleanest result we have seen from a French press.

The coffee was also very good, especially in the first test. It had the fruit and sweetness up front, some chocolate underneath, and almost no bitterness at the end. It was clean and balanced in a way most French press coffee is not. The catch is that it also loses a little of the heavy, velvety body that some people want from a press pot. If you love French press because it tastes big and a little wild, the Espro may feel too polite. If you love French press but hate sludge, it will make a lot more sense.

The build quality is excellent. The handle feels great, the body looks sharp, and the insulation is impressive. We had hot coffee in the pot without the outside getting hot to the touch. Cleaning was also easier than I expected. The two filter baskets snap apart and rinse clean without the usual unscrewing routine, though I do wonder how they'll hold up.

Now for the problem:

You pay a lot and you do not get all the coffee you think you are paying for. The 18-ounce P7 costs more than most full-size French presses, and because the filter basket needs room to work, the max fill line is well below the top. In one test, about 48 grams of coffee stayed trapped below the filter after we poured everything we could. That trapped coffee is part of why the cup is so clean, but it still feels a little painful when the press is already this expensive.

So no, the Espro P7 is not our best overall French press. It costs too much, yields too little, and makes a cup that is cleaner than a traditional French press rather than a perfect version of one. But it is easily the best low-sediment press we tested.

If your problem with French press coffee is the grit, the sludge, and the bitter last cup, the P7 solves that problem better than anything else here. You just have to decide whether solving it is worth paying premium money for a smaller pot of coffee.

When we opened up the Bodum Columbia, it looked immediately familiar. You see these in nice coffee shops all the time, so they clearly hold up over the long run. The Columbia is all big sweeping curves of double-wall stainless steel, available in ½ liter, 1 liter, and 1½ liter sizes.

That double-wall construction insulates very well, dropping just 17°F in 20 minutes. We had high hopes for the single filter with silicone gasket, but the Columbia let a shocking 0.85 grams of solids through. After seeing what the Espro could do with sediment, the Columbia’s filter result looks even harder to ignore.

Jumping back to the good stuff, we loved the handle and long spout, which combined for a sure grip and easy pouring. Overall, this is a really good pot (minus the filter issues), but a tough sell at around $60.

At around $140 to $160, the Frieling is one of the most expensive French presses in the test — and in some sizes, it costs even more than the Espro P7. Frieling certainly tries to justify the price on build quality. Every piece feels noticeably solid and high quality, and it is available in 17-ounce, 23-ounce, 36-ounce, and 44-ounce sizes, each in either brushed or polished finish.

The Frieling has an aggressively industrial look, though the curve in the handle softens it a little, and helps the grip. It features double-wall construction, and holds the heat as well as that implies, with a 17°F drop in 20 minutes. The filter is heavy double-mesh and fits very stiffly into the carafe. It wasn’t that effective, though, leaving 0.79 grams of solids in the test filter. That is where the price gets hard to justify.

Frieling still feels like the most serious object in the group, but the cup did not separate itself from cheaper options enough for us to move it higher. In the end, if you're spending this much on a French press, the Espro P7 gives you a more obvious reason to pay premium money: a cleaner, better tasting cup with far less sediment.

The Bodum Chambord is my mental picture of a French press. My parents had one when I was a kid and I’ve had three in different sizes. This is still the press a lot of people picture when they think of French press coffee, which is exactly why we keep testing it against newer designs. The metal-framed glass is pretty, but as someone who’s broken two of them, I can tell you it doesn’t last.

These come in a dizzying array of options: glass or plastic; 12 ounces, 17 ounces, 34 ounces, or 51 ounces; black frame, silver frame, copper frame and top, cork top, matte chrome frame, or white frame and lid. The glass is pretty, but it doesn’t hold the heat, dropping 29°F in 20 minutes. The single filter is about average at keeping solids out, leaving 0.59 grams in the coffee. At $50, you’re ultimately paying a lot for style.

The Utopia Kitchen 304 Stainless French press looks like it should be a simple win: stainless steel body, insulated construction, low price, and a familiar shape. At around the low-$20 range when we bought it, I wanted it to be the cheap stainless press that made the expensive ones look silly.

It did one thing well; heat retention was excellent in our test. After 20 minutes, the coffee inside was still reading about 178°F, while the outside of the press was only around 94°F. That is exactly what you want from a double-wall stainless press. If all we were testing was insulation, the Utopia would have made a much stronger run up the list.

The coffee itself was pretty good. We got chocolate notes that blended well with the sweeter side of the Stumptown Homestead Blend, and the cup was balanced enough. It didn't have the full flavor I expect from a really good French press, and there was a little bitterness toward the end -- but it wasn't bad coffee -- if you handed me a mug from this press without telling me anything else, I would drink it happily.

The problem is the daily-use stuff. The plunger felt a little scrapey and almost too easy going down, which did not give me much confidence in the fit. It also could not comfortably hold the full test amount we used for the other 34-ounce presses; this one started feeling crowded closer to 870 grams.

The pour was another odd one. It poured cleanly, but the strong stream and a small suction hiccup from the lid made it a little less controlled than the better pourers in the test.

None of that ruins the press, but it makes the Utopia feel less polished than the better options.

By the numbers, the grit result was not great. The Utopia left 0.70 grams of solids in our filter. For a cheap insulated stainless press, that is not a disaster. It keeps coffee hot, the handle is comfortable, and the value is real. But it has enough quirks that I would not put it ahead of the better-tested picks above it.

The Café du Château is a collection of interesting contradictions that doesn’t add up to anything that good. Our first impression was good, with a nice solid glass beaker in a sweeping sleeve of stainless steel, like the lapels of a suit jacket. The next impression was the highly questionable handle, held on by the chintziest strips of steel in the test.

The beaker held on to heat reasonably well, dropping just 22°F over 20 minutes, but the double filter let through 0.85 grams of solids, tied for worst in the test. Two factors drop it to the not recommeded category. First, the coffee it produced was weak and underwhelming. Second, the lousy handle made pouring tricky, especially with the heavy base messing with the balance. In conclusion, the $35 Café du Château is adequate, but not worth the trouble.

I always appreciate when a company tries something new, so I give Iwoxs points for integrating a thermometer and timer into the push-knob on top of the lid. Negative points for the hard to spell and say name. Setting aside the gadgetry, the Iwoxs features a glass carafe with either black plastic or stainless steel hardware. Both options have a cool modernist shroud look that I like.

Like the other glass models, the temperature drops pretty hard — 28°F in 20 minutes. The single filter ties for worst in the test, letting through 0.85 grams of solids. The electronics are tough to use. Limited controls (to keep it cheap and waterproof) make control like programming an 80s VCR. The clock is a nice add, but the thermometer is not that useful. Once the water is in the pot (and high enough to get to the sensor), it’s too late to do anything about it. For around $40, it’s not a terrible price for style and features, but I’d rather use my phone for a timer.