Cuisinart Brew Central DCC-1200 12-Cups Coffee Maker

It all started when I jinxed the Mexican-made Black & Decker by praising its longevity less than a week before it ran out of steam. Twelve cups, a dozen years – the numbers ran together like tears at a wedding as I waved goodbye to the recycling guys – new custodians to the shiny-black coffeemaker gone kaput. I hoped it would find renewed purpose – perhaps as the hub cap of a Chevy Volt, where it could see the world from a perspective wider than witnessed from my kitchen counter.

The search for a new caffeine-enabler led me to such renowned establishments as Wal*Mart and J.C. Penny. After much sales-person inquiry, it appeared that Mexico no longer produced a coffee pot of any kind for the American market. In fact, most of the major brands are now “hand-crafted in China”, with the exception of Bunn - a contraption that retails for around $150 (all prices US) and (according to the reviews) is not without its failures and foibles.

What would Confucius say?

The answer was waiting at Lowe's. Priced higher than Mr. Coffee and lower than a Bunn, the Cuisinart Brew Central DCC-1200 12-Cup Coffeemaker was recognized as a model my brother had owned for years, until the toggle-style on/off switch failed. At a retail price of $79 (and subject to a $10 manufacturer's rebate), at least the DCC-1200 and I shared some history – and I had grown weary of brewing my coffee the old-fashioned way. After submission of the necessary paperwork, the rebate check arrived promptly and did not bounce upon deposit.

“...the look is pure retro...”

Aside from being boxy - with a footprint an elephant could envy, the Brew Central is stylish; cast in a modern motif of black plastic and stainless steel. Though minimalist to the eye and sporting analog controls, I'm not sure I would agree with the manufacturer's claim of “pure retro” styling. Measuring 14 inches high x 9 deep x 8 inches wide, it's as compact as can be expected for a 12-cup unit.

Features and Functions

The Brew Central DCC-1200 is a conventional drip-style coffeemaker, which is programmable by means of a function knob and hour/minute buttons to select brewing start time within a 24-hour period. Using the Variable Auto Off feature, the unit's warming plate can be programmed to shut off up to four hours after brewing. The warming plate also offers an identical rotating knob with settings for High, Medium and Low. A chrome-plated old-school toggle switch performs on/off duty.

For brewing smaller pots, the button labeled 1-4 will “double-heat” the water, “so coffee is piping hot”.

If the unit should suffer from undue calcification, the Self Clean light will flash red. As suggested in the Owner's Manual, place a mixture of vinegar and water in the reservoir and push the Self Clean button. Until the cycle is completed, this function overrides all others.

Located above the control panel, a small LCD clock enables brew-time programming; the face of which measures a ridiculous 1 inch wide x ½ inch high. Due to its diminutive size and the fact that I always unplug small appliances when not in use, I find this timepiece quite useless. The LED clocks on both my range and microwave oven are larger and more readable, at a glance.

Pluses ± Minuses

The DCC-1200 is easy to set-up and brews quickly, maintaining acceptable noise levels while doing so. The main filter basket uses #4 cone paper filters, which can be found most anywhere. A wire basket filter is also provided. This unit features Brew Pause, which allows a 30-second maximum no-drip window (before the basket overflows), should you need your caffeine NOW. I've never been in that much of a hurry to settle for an overly strong cup, but, for the purpose of this review, it appears to work as advertised. When finished brewing, five ethereal tones sound to drive my cat crazy.

The graduated 'step-system' reservoir is accessible beneath the cover, to the rear of the unit. To avoid frustration with this cramped and awkward design flaw, simply fill the (equally) graduated carafe to the desired level and pour the contents into the reservoir. Otherwise, you'll be on your tiptoes with a flashlight in an attempt to read and fill to the proper numbered step.

The glass carafe has a plastic rim and handle, which is secured by a stainless steel band at the bottom. If placed in the dishwasher, the design requires an additional rinse upon removal. When upside down, the deep rim collects water, which flows down the vessel's sides when righted. The question being: is it all clean rinse water, or trapped, detergent-rich water left-over from the wash cycle?

The unit is equipped with a relatively tiny charcoal filter, which can be installed in the reservoir. Here in the mountains, I have well water that is double-filtered; making this unnecessary accessory redundant. According to the enclosed Coffeemaker Parts and Accessories Order Form, a dozen of these silly filters will set-you-back close to $35 (plus $6.95 shipping).

Due to the height of the DCC-1200, you won't be able to fully open the cover if the coffeemaker is stationed beneath an upper cabinet of conventional installation. As a remedy, I placed the unit on a marble cutting board with felt feet, which easily slides forward to clear the upper cabinet.

The 20-page Owner's Manual is divided into equal parts English and Spanish. It offers all the comprehensive assistance you could need; including details of the 3-Year Limited Warranty.

The (im)perfect housewarming gift?

For thirteen months, the DCC-1200 brewed a good cup of coffee and played well with my other stainless steel appliances. On April 5th of this year, shortly after concluding the brewing cycle, the unit began to snap, crackle and pop. A dense cloud of dove gray smoke began to rise, like a giant smoke ring, from around the warming plate. Fortunately, I was sitting at the counter and was able to quickly cross the kitchen and unplug the unit, which continued to emit toxic smoke.

My 4-level Contemporary was built to maximize the surrounding views, which puts the kitchen/living area on the third level. Since I do not have a back door immediately at hand, I cranked open the casement over the sink and pitched the unit out and away from the house. Despite my fast action, to clear the accumulated smoke, it was necessary to open the windows and operate the ceiling fans for over an hour in 35 degree weather. In the past, I had regularly left the hot plate on while I worked around the house. Fortunately, due to inclement weather, I was in close proximity when the DCC-1200 malfunctioned.

Customer Service

The Cuisinart representative was pleasant and professional when I phoned – though she seemed a bit impatient that I had to walk down a flight of steps to the driveway to retrieve the serial number from the deceased DCC-1200. She was all business and showed little concern overall, other than to ask if the malfunction resulted in any damage to the property.

Cuisinart has a peculiar policy in regard to product warranty. A $10 shipping fee is required to replace a defective appliance. Rather than expose my credit card for such a piddling expense, I snail-mailed a check (with cover letter) to the appropriate New Jersey address – confirmed by the customer service rep to which I spoke. So basically, I just recycled the original rebate.

Bean there, done that . . .

After such an experience, will I buy another Cuisinart product? The bigger question is whether I will trust the replacement clone without confirmation that the cause of the defect has been corrected. If that slow pony should ever arrive at my door bearing brewer, I certainly will not operate the Cuisinart Brew Central DCC-1200 12-Cup Coffeemaker while unattended, nor forget to unplug it when not in use.

The rep also spoke of returning the defective unit when the replacement arrived. Let's hope they include a prepaid mailing label - as this consumer may be a little hoarse at times, but will never be mistaken for a pony's derrière.

I will update with further adventures as they unfold.

Update: 8/09/2011 – Still nothin' brewin'...

Who knew that dealing with Cuisinart customer service would become a part-time career? The Case of the Kaput Coffeepot Continues.

Since Cuisinart requires a $10 payment to facilitate shipping of a replacement appliance, I acquiesced; sending off a check with my original cover letter to the company's warranty claims department in New Jersey. When that check was included in my May bank statement, I assumed the coffeemaker would arrive within a reasonable amount of time.

By mid-July, I had heard no Diesel UPS van scaling my steep driveway. Curious as to the reason for delay, I called Cuisinart Customer Service (a titular oxymoron) and spoke to a representative, who was convinced I was the owner of two of the company's food processors. Apparently, someone with the same name in the same state had said products in for repair. This case of mistaken identity required no less than three denials; for I was calling in reference to obtaining a clone for my nearly apocalyptic coffeepot. It was nearing two months since the original warranty claim and I had become the invisible man in the process.

The rep told me I would be required to provide proof that the check for shipping was sent (blaming the customer for their incompetence), then took my personal information once again and assured me I would be contacted ASAP as to the status of my claim.

(Insert cricket sound effect here...)

Three weeks later, I jotted-off yet another cover letter to New Jersey and included the original letter which explained the malfunction in detail. Also on-board was a photocopy of the returned check, which included the bank's printed information as proof the company had either cashed or deposited the document on the specified date.

Beyond the letter's closing, I cc'd my attorney's name as an incentive for the company to get the flamin' thing in the mail. I've been making coffee by hand since the original unit went phttt, and boy, are my paws red!

It should be arriving any day now . . .

Final Update: 8/25/2011

On August 17th, I received an undated form letter stating:

 “We have received your letter concerning your Coffee Maker. Our attempt to contact you was unsuccessful”.

My phone is always within earshot. No such attempt had been made.

I called the Customer Hotline number listed in the letter and entered the 3-digit extension. A recorded voice then informed me I was attempting to reach an invalid extension. On the third try, I reached a Rep from Conair, who put me in touch with someone who knew the person I was instructed to contact. I was told that if the extension is busy, the system prompts the “invalid” recording and terminates the call. Nice system.

So I dealt with this friend of the Rep, whose department is responsible for oddball accounts the conventional Customer Service Reps cannot master. Yet again, I told the back-story to the unprepared Rep: the initial malfunction, the phone calls, the letters. By this point, I could recite it in my sleep.

Her first attempt at a resolution was to state that the check I sent for shipping had not been cashed by the company – this after I had sent a copy of the canceled check in my second letter dated 8/10/2011. After I had informed her that my checking statement reflected the fact that the funds had been withdrawn, she claimed she received no such statement. I pondered incredulously:  What on earth makes you think that the bank would send my monthly checking statement to you?

Can this sort of incompetence be a matter of fate, or is it by design? Should it require two letters and three phone calls over a five-month span to replace a defective coffeemaker? Lest you think the fault lies with me, I followed the warranty instructions to the letter - all information was made available to the company – from serial number to the original receipt-of-purchase.

The final irony? After all that effort, the new one arrived today, via UPS. Rather than ship a replacement with the original Black Chrome finish (which the serial number would reflect), the new one is a plastic-coated faux-pewter deal that looks cheesy next to the real stainless appliances that inhabit my kitchen.

As long as it doesn't attempt to catch fire again, I should be grateful it arrived at all.

Cuisinart
150 Milford Road
East Windsor, NJ 08520
cuisinart.com