2013, Part I: Iced-Chai Latte

2013 was the year I discovered Chai. Masala chai is a flavored tea made by brewing black tea with other Indian spices and herbs. Although the combination of those spices and herbs varies across borders, its smell is mostly exactly the same. I first tried it against my will at one of those bagel places that become popular over night. The guys (my boyfriend at the time and his friends) made plans to go on a Sunday morning and so we went. I ordered a salmon and cream cheese sesame seeds bagel after spending an unnecessary amount of time talking to the inexperienced cashier about menu options. Pressured by the line behind me, I was rushed into an order I wasn’t quite comfortable with. Ergo, the small iced chai latte. Having an accent and trouble speaking in public, I often find myself ordering food I don’t want. After taking onions and peppers off my salmon & cream cheese only sesame seeds bagel, I wasn’t impressed by neither the food or by whatever the guys were talking about. Someone did something during yesterday’s four-hour session, I heard. It was apparently a big deal in Berklee’s music world.

As I drifted away from the conversation and into wondering where did the girl sitting next to us buy the crop top she was wearing, the iced chai latte met my heart. The sweet and cinnamony flavor activated the taste buds numbed by that awful bagel. The cool touch of the ice against the hot tea created the perfect feel to enjoy of that light-breezed Sunday morning. And so the obsession began. After ordering it at Starbucks and getting highly disappointed by whatever they gave me, the quest to find the best chai latte started. 

After months of looking and digging I still haven’t found a better chai than the one in the coffee shop next to my school. Java’s is known for being expensive, even more expensive than Starbucks, but damn good, unlike Starbucks. They serve Julia Organic’s Brewed Tea so I like to assume it's good tea, the best one around. Their tea is curiously in powder form, which makes the tea not only able to mix perfectly with the milk, but able to mingle in angelical creaminess. The owner, or whom I believe to own the place for his barista expertise, leaves little crumbs of tea in my latte purposely to emphasize the flavor. Mmm, totally worth $4.49.

After my boyfriend and I broke up, an iced-chai latte became the designated comfort drink anyone would need during those awkward transitions. Well that, and a Merlot. It was the only thing I digested in the two weeks of not being able to digest the idea of not having him. The breakup didn’t catch me by surprise, nor was I entirely crushed, but one thing is to know it and another one is to eat, smile or sleep. What did catch me by surprise, however, was by how much I enjoy the little crumbs David leaves in my tea. 

I stop by the coffee shop next to my school almost every day around 4pm. I became a regular without trying. Within a week, I knew who prepared the best iced chai latte and who prepared the worst. I knew that the table next to the window gets chilly every time the door opens and that the table in front of the cashier has a hidden outlet. I know that the books in the Non-Fiction section are not non-fiction but literary criticism, which annoys me till this day. I know that they combine whole milk with fat free milk to make 2%, that they spend an extra 30 seconds to make the foam perfectly dense, and that they only add the ice when everything else is ready. That’s their trick: the ice in an iced chai latte is not a key ingredient, but an inescapable commitment - much like a mother in law in an awkward looking family portrait. Starbucks could learn a thing or two from them.

My search for chai (and life purpose) was always accompanied by Wild Child, a band from Austin, Texas that my friend from Austin, Texas recommended. Well, she really likes Austin but she is actually from El Paso, or something. Wild Child released its second album The Runaround exactly one month after my breakup. It was handed to me in a silver plate, perfectly addressing many issues I couldn’t put into words. And still fully can’t, so I just sing along. The album is about leaving, coming back, regretting, forgiving, confusion, you know, the usual when the stiches are still fresh.

It became a routine of mine to walk with my headphones on blasting Crazy Bird while having chai latte, a combination that did not only make me oblivious of my surroundings, but unable to answer to people’s hi’s and how are you's. 

Perfect.

I avoided people so well that three weeks into the semester, the stranger I had to call roommate, moved out of the room and into a single, perhaps sensing my dislike towards human beings –and her.

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Today, I find myself digesting every kind of foods, apart from the chai, of course. El Salvadorian cheese pupusas, home made nutella cookies, vodka and chasers, crunchy Cheetos, among many many others. The iced part of my regular chai latte had to refrain itself due to weather conditions, but I still go everyday to the coffee shop around 4pm. The Runaround is no longer about stiches, but about moving on. Today I bother to say hi first, even to my old roommate.