the phenomenon known as bubble tea.
I recently had a very amusing experience which has slipped under the writing radar until now. While looking for fun and unusual ways to entertain a houseguest, I was reading an issue of a local periodical and found many "best of" poll results for various places in the city. Most of these things were like, "best place to get sushi," "best place to go bowling," "best place to get a french fry po-boy," but one of the ones that I stumbled upon was, "best place to get bubble tea." We were intrigued. There was a pleasant description, although no pictures. It didn't matter, though. We were hooked.
The Gambit Weekly's blurb on bubble tea was as follows:
"The friendly folks behind Frosty's helped introduced New Orleans to what is now a bona fide national phenomenon -- bubble tea. The drink comes in cute Hello Kitty-inspired cups and features tapioca pearls floating in any of nearly 80 flavors, such as the popular mango."
I admit at the time I was a teeny bit squeamish about the thought of tapioca. I'd only tried tapioca pudding once, and I was a bit disturbed by the tiny and somewhat translucent orbs, but I thought I might be able to get over that. They did describe them as pearls after all. She, on the other hand, admitted to actively liking tapioca. I figured we'd be able to share one, at least, and work something out. Honestly, though, I think what sold my friend was the hello kitty cup bit, so she seemed all to eager to try this thing out. So we went there. It was a little hole in the wall place that you never would have noticed....and would have assumed it was just some regular coffee shop or something. Very benign. Very misleading. We stepped in the door, and immediately I felt like I was out of the country. It was clear that the owners and patrons were not from here. The decorum and the way things were displayed were very Eastern. This didn't surprise me too much as there is quite a large Vietnamese community around the corner. Having a thing for ethnic food, I'd been into the thick of it to discover that there's a strip of many Vietnamese karaoke bars and restaurants that are filled with signs that I couldn't even begin to translate. It's strange how easily a transition between cultures can be made. But, I digress. Back to the tea.
Figuring out the menu was no easy task. There were pictures on the wall to order from, but they didn't seem to correspond to the plastic models of the tea or the little pamphlet menu. We decided on a green tea latte slush, I believe they called it. I had just introduced her to the goodness of green tea ice cream at sushi a few nights previous, so we were all delighted with the thought of more green tea. We were only going to order one, though, since we had no clue what we were in for. He asked if we wanted tapioca, and we both hurriedly nodded our heads yes. Of course. Duh. Isn't that part of the whole experience? We were correct, of course. It definitely was.
So after a while of grinding and slushing (that does sound filthy, doesn't it?), we watch two identical plastic cups of slush and fun with little black orbs dwindling in the bottom go into what seemed to be an unnecessarily large machine. We couldn't imagine what the heck it was going to do when it promptly sealed the container closed with a little thin plastic sheet. She, of course, was delighted, 'cause she was so concerned about this Hello Kitty cup thing. They were quite cute. Here is an example of one that I found online to better illustrate our experience:
So, anyway, cute lids aside, the man making them for us promptly swishes the contents around, sending the mass of black tapioca balls into a frenzy all around the cup. They then hung there, intermittently dispersed throughout the green tea goodness. Actually, now that I think about it, it wasn't that they were dispersed so much as hiding, ninja-style ready to strike through the veiling mists of almost-smoothie deliciousness. Here is a before diagram illustrating the scientific nature of the bubble tea:
No, actually, I believe that's simply a skin for some computer music-listening device created by people who are indeed in love with the look and taste of bubble tea. Notice, though, how in this diagram, the tapioca balls are waiting to strike just under the vacuum of the straw. That brings me to another point. No, actually, it doesn't, I just don't have a relevant transition for this part and I want to get back on to the story. He handed us two of them. Not wanting anything to go to waste, I just kept my mouth shut and paid. $7.55 later, we had grabbed our unnervingly wide straw and sat down at a table surrounded with framed articles on bubble tea. It was time for experimentation and further research.
The first slip was slow and tantalizing. My god, it was good for that first moment. I so love green tea ice cream, and it was as if my best wishes for a green tea ice cream smoothie had come true. I hurriedly slurped for more, forgetting about the dangerous tapiocas for just that split second when one of them came flying kamikaze bullet-style up the thick, red straw and essentially ended that moment of delirious bliss. I paused, stricken, rolling this wet orb along the inside of my mouth. What was I supposed to do with it? I chewed on it for a moment until it was swallowed and gone. I was too blank for an honest reaction. It really didn't have a flavor. In fact, I'm sure that's the point of tapioca. Pure texture...and oh boy, was it rolling in that. She experienced the same thing at nearly the same moment. Pause. Stare. Moment of disillusion. Giggles. She informed me that this was not like the tapioca she was familiar with. I still hadn't completely made up my mind. I kept going, and once again the smooth and delicious creamy part was interrupted by not one--but TWO sequential blobs of tapioca that had apparently been hiding out together. Bothered somewhat by having to stop my blissful slurping to chew again, we noticed that on the lid was a disclaimer:
"Warning: Tapioca must be chewed. Children under five not suggest to eat."
Great, so there was no avoiding this chewing bit. And apparently, these things kill small children. Tapioca, to me, is some cute almost-clear thing. These were indeed black balls of doom. Why were they so dark? I read the articles on the wall for more insight. One of the authors had brought their child along for the experience who had donned the loving term "fish eyeballs" to the globs. How cute. How....accurate. The tapioca balls gain their black colour from being cooked and soaked in honey or something like that. At times, they can indeed be quite cute. In fact, I found a picture of tapioca that looks something like this:
See how cute? Honestly, I wonder if they were as colourful as sprinkles, if I could get past their nature a little bit better. There's no telling. Here is a collage that demonstrates the evolution of tapioca into the treat we know as bubble tea:
So, anyway....I kept going, forcing myself to like it. I started to for a brief moment. I really did. I really wanted to. I consumed quite a bit of the little buggers. I informed my friend that it's kind of like gummy bears, really. Flavorless, starchy, sticky, frightening gummy bears of torture. Although, as much as I liked gummy bears, I really didn't care much for them mixed in shakes, or shooting up straws for that matter. We started to get the giggles, and not wanting to offend anyone by dissecting the experience inside of the store, we decided to take our little bubble teas on a nice walk to the car. Outside, we came to the conclusion that the tapiocas had literally frightened us off of the drink. With each sip, you were scared of accidentally slurping up one. She also pointed out, quite astutely, that the blobs reminded her of a toy we'd seen earlier. She was referring one of those little piggy key chains that you can squeeze and a little bubble of brown goo pops momentarily out of its rear end. They did indeed remind me of that.
We drove off to meet up with someone else. I had at this point consumed quite an uncountable number of tapiocas and I was starting to feel their presence in my stomach. Needless to say, this sensation was not pleasant. I figured once we reached our destination, we could get a spoon and eat the mixture more easily, avoiding the tapiocas. But not before we forced him to suck up a gloop into his mouth. I wanted to share this experience with as many people as possible. Either that, or my secret agenda was to make him suffer. So as soon as he saw our little shakes, he was actually quite excited. He thought we'd found some wonderful little Japanese place that probably sold Pocky, too. I just wanted him to shut up and taste the stuff--with no explanation as to what it really was, of course. After a series of excuses (a listerine strip had just been in his mouth, it might be too sugary, not in the mood, etc), he finally took a big sip. I'd taken special care to position the glob at the bottom of the straw, too. So that's all he got. He looked horror stricken and went to spit it out, but I caught it. I demanded that he eat it. But you LIKE tapioca! Well, he was a good sport and ate it. Although, he was indeed quite disgusted. I took the time to suck up a few in my straw and launch them back out into the inside of a nearby cup--something I had read about by the "fish eyeball" author. Now, that could be fun.
After attempting to pass the experience along to another victim and slurping up a bit more through a thinner straw that kept the tapiocas at bay, we'd just plainly had enough of the experience. It had been a long day.
I've since done a little bit of online research, finding mostly pictures of people happily drinking their bubble tea. It's quite a phenomenon. In fact, it's even combined powers with the ever-popular online quiz. My results are as follows:
Your Flavor is: Taro. You're a little different,
and definitely unique. You lead a rich life,
and are constantly full of surprises.
The Intercollegiate Taiwanese American Students
Assocation 2004 East Coast Conference will be
at Yale from February 5-8, 2004. Our theme?
"Choose your flavor!" Check it out at
http://yale.itasa.org and be sure to register.
Choose your flavor!
What Bubble Tea Flavor Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
This opens up another can of worms, actually. In one of the articles was the mention of durian. I don't have the article handy, as I could not find it online, but I will share what I recall the author had said about durian. He said if the owners recommend it, don't do it--no matter how much they push. The flavor of durian, he described, is something like that of apple--an apple that had been cut on a cutting board that had been used to chop onions on earlier. That, but sort of drowned out by the scent of natural gas. He said they put some coconut milk in it to cut the flavor and that there wasn't enough coconut milk in the world that could possibly cut the flavor of durian. It apparently is an acquired taste. So now, I'm curious about that. Could it really be that bad?
So next time you're in town, and you're looking for something fun to do, give me a call. I'd be happy to relive the experience.
In fact, I think maybe next time, I might even try durian...
***appendum***
Looking back, I must confess that I have grown an immense love for boba and its fish-eyeball bubbles. My favorite is avocado smoothie and I've even tried durian! Not too bad, but not so great, either. Definately an experiment for the adventurous!
The Gambit Weekly's blurb on bubble tea was as follows:
"The friendly folks behind Frosty's helped introduced New Orleans to what is now a bona fide national phenomenon -- bubble tea. The drink comes in cute Hello Kitty-inspired cups and features tapioca pearls floating in any of nearly 80 flavors, such as the popular mango."
I admit at the time I was a teeny bit squeamish about the thought of tapioca. I'd only tried tapioca pudding once, and I was a bit disturbed by the tiny and somewhat translucent orbs, but I thought I might be able to get over that. They did describe them as pearls after all. She, on the other hand, admitted to actively liking tapioca. I figured we'd be able to share one, at least, and work something out. Honestly, though, I think what sold my friend was the hello kitty cup bit, so she seemed all to eager to try this thing out. So we went there. It was a little hole in the wall place that you never would have noticed....and would have assumed it was just some regular coffee shop or something. Very benign. Very misleading. We stepped in the door, and immediately I felt like I was out of the country. It was clear that the owners and patrons were not from here. The decorum and the way things were displayed were very Eastern. This didn't surprise me too much as there is quite a large Vietnamese community around the corner. Having a thing for ethnic food, I'd been into the thick of it to discover that there's a strip of many Vietnamese karaoke bars and restaurants that are filled with signs that I couldn't even begin to translate. It's strange how easily a transition between cultures can be made. But, I digress. Back to the tea.
Figuring out the menu was no easy task. There were pictures on the wall to order from, but they didn't seem to correspond to the plastic models of the tea or the little pamphlet menu. We decided on a green tea latte slush, I believe they called it. I had just introduced her to the goodness of green tea ice cream at sushi a few nights previous, so we were all delighted with the thought of more green tea. We were only going to order one, though, since we had no clue what we were in for. He asked if we wanted tapioca, and we both hurriedly nodded our heads yes. Of course. Duh. Isn't that part of the whole experience? We were correct, of course. It definitely was.
So after a while of grinding and slushing (that does sound filthy, doesn't it?), we watch two identical plastic cups of slush and fun with little black orbs dwindling in the bottom go into what seemed to be an unnecessarily large machine. We couldn't imagine what the heck it was going to do when it promptly sealed the container closed with a little thin plastic sheet. She, of course, was delighted, 'cause she was so concerned about this Hello Kitty cup thing. They were quite cute. Here is an example of one that I found online to better illustrate our experience:
So, anyway, cute lids aside, the man making them for us promptly swishes the contents around, sending the mass of black tapioca balls into a frenzy all around the cup. They then hung there, intermittently dispersed throughout the green tea goodness. Actually, now that I think about it, it wasn't that they were dispersed so much as hiding, ninja-style ready to strike through the veiling mists of almost-smoothie deliciousness. Here is a before diagram illustrating the scientific nature of the bubble tea:
No, actually, I believe that's simply a skin for some computer music-listening device created by people who are indeed in love with the look and taste of bubble tea. Notice, though, how in this diagram, the tapioca balls are waiting to strike just under the vacuum of the straw. That brings me to another point. No, actually, it doesn't, I just don't have a relevant transition for this part and I want to get back on to the story. He handed us two of them. Not wanting anything to go to waste, I just kept my mouth shut and paid. $7.55 later, we had grabbed our unnervingly wide straw and sat down at a table surrounded with framed articles on bubble tea. It was time for experimentation and further research.
The first slip was slow and tantalizing. My god, it was good for that first moment. I so love green tea ice cream, and it was as if my best wishes for a green tea ice cream smoothie had come true. I hurriedly slurped for more, forgetting about the dangerous tapiocas for just that split second when one of them came flying kamikaze bullet-style up the thick, red straw and essentially ended that moment of delirious bliss. I paused, stricken, rolling this wet orb along the inside of my mouth. What was I supposed to do with it? I chewed on it for a moment until it was swallowed and gone. I was too blank for an honest reaction. It really didn't have a flavor. In fact, I'm sure that's the point of tapioca. Pure texture...and oh boy, was it rolling in that. She experienced the same thing at nearly the same moment. Pause. Stare. Moment of disillusion. Giggles. She informed me that this was not like the tapioca she was familiar with. I still hadn't completely made up my mind. I kept going, and once again the smooth and delicious creamy part was interrupted by not one--but TWO sequential blobs of tapioca that had apparently been hiding out together. Bothered somewhat by having to stop my blissful slurping to chew again, we noticed that on the lid was a disclaimer:
"Warning: Tapioca must be chewed. Children under five not suggest to eat."
Great, so there was no avoiding this chewing bit. And apparently, these things kill small children. Tapioca, to me, is some cute almost-clear thing. These were indeed black balls of doom. Why were they so dark? I read the articles on the wall for more insight. One of the authors had brought their child along for the experience who had donned the loving term "fish eyeballs" to the globs. How cute. How....accurate. The tapioca balls gain their black colour from being cooked and soaked in honey or something like that. At times, they can indeed be quite cute. In fact, I found a picture of tapioca that looks something like this:
See how cute? Honestly, I wonder if they were as colourful as sprinkles, if I could get past their nature a little bit better. There's no telling. Here is a collage that demonstrates the evolution of tapioca into the treat we know as bubble tea:
So, anyway....I kept going, forcing myself to like it. I started to for a brief moment. I really did. I really wanted to. I consumed quite a bit of the little buggers. I informed my friend that it's kind of like gummy bears, really. Flavorless, starchy, sticky, frightening gummy bears of torture. Although, as much as I liked gummy bears, I really didn't care much for them mixed in shakes, or shooting up straws for that matter. We started to get the giggles, and not wanting to offend anyone by dissecting the experience inside of the store, we decided to take our little bubble teas on a nice walk to the car. Outside, we came to the conclusion that the tapiocas had literally frightened us off of the drink. With each sip, you were scared of accidentally slurping up one. She also pointed out, quite astutely, that the blobs reminded her of a toy we'd seen earlier. She was referring one of those little piggy key chains that you can squeeze and a little bubble of brown goo pops momentarily out of its rear end. They did indeed remind me of that.
We drove off to meet up with someone else. I had at this point consumed quite an uncountable number of tapiocas and I was starting to feel their presence in my stomach. Needless to say, this sensation was not pleasant. I figured once we reached our destination, we could get a spoon and eat the mixture more easily, avoiding the tapiocas. But not before we forced him to suck up a gloop into his mouth. I wanted to share this experience with as many people as possible. Either that, or my secret agenda was to make him suffer. So as soon as he saw our little shakes, he was actually quite excited. He thought we'd found some wonderful little Japanese place that probably sold Pocky, too. I just wanted him to shut up and taste the stuff--with no explanation as to what it really was, of course. After a series of excuses (a listerine strip had just been in his mouth, it might be too sugary, not in the mood, etc), he finally took a big sip. I'd taken special care to position the glob at the bottom of the straw, too. So that's all he got. He looked horror stricken and went to spit it out, but I caught it. I demanded that he eat it. But you LIKE tapioca! Well, he was a good sport and ate it. Although, he was indeed quite disgusted. I took the time to suck up a few in my straw and launch them back out into the inside of a nearby cup--something I had read about by the "fish eyeball" author. Now, that could be fun.
After attempting to pass the experience along to another victim and slurping up a bit more through a thinner straw that kept the tapiocas at bay, we'd just plainly had enough of the experience. It had been a long day.
I've since done a little bit of online research, finding mostly pictures of people happily drinking their bubble tea. It's quite a phenomenon. In fact, it's even combined powers with the ever-popular online quiz. My results are as follows:
Your Flavor is: Taro. You're a little different,
and definitely unique. You lead a rich life,
and are constantly full of surprises.
The Intercollegiate Taiwanese American Students
Assocation 2004 East Coast Conference will be
at Yale from February 5-8, 2004. Our theme?
"Choose your flavor!" Check it out at
http://yale.itasa.org and be sure to register.
Choose your flavor!
What Bubble Tea Flavor Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
This opens up another can of worms, actually. In one of the articles was the mention of durian. I don't have the article handy, as I could not find it online, but I will share what I recall the author had said about durian. He said if the owners recommend it, don't do it--no matter how much they push. The flavor of durian, he described, is something like that of apple--an apple that had been cut on a cutting board that had been used to chop onions on earlier. That, but sort of drowned out by the scent of natural gas. He said they put some coconut milk in it to cut the flavor and that there wasn't enough coconut milk in the world that could possibly cut the flavor of durian. It apparently is an acquired taste. So now, I'm curious about that. Could it really be that bad?
So next time you're in town, and you're looking for something fun to do, give me a call. I'd be happy to relive the experience.
In fact, I think maybe next time, I might even try durian...
***appendum***
Looking back, I must confess that I have grown an immense love for boba and its fish-eyeball bubbles. My favorite is avocado smoothie and I've even tried durian! Not too bad, but not so great, either. Definately an experiment for the adventurous!