I never used to drink coffee until one day I met a girl whose daily well being depended on the bean beverage. I’d take sips of the tasty sounding drinks she would order but unless they were sweet beyond recognition, I generally didn’t like the taste. I discovered, however, that because I never drank coffee as a teenager, my body had zero tolerance to the lovely drug infused in each and every coffee bean. One tall coffee of any kind was enough to wire me through the post lunch coma I experienced most every day. The Mocha Bianco became my coffee beverage of choice (again, all due to the girl I met) made by the lovely baristas of Nordstrom Ebar. I would say that in the least possible way, I am addicted to coffee. No, I am addicted to the “Nordstrom Ebar, Tall Iced Mocha Bianco, No Whip” in particular. Danielle (the girl) would laugh at this statement, but my body now craves the drink for pleasure whereas before I would use it strictly as a tool. You know what, I just thought it over, I’m only saying I’m addicted to coffee because a) I like it, and b) I know it has an addictive substance in it. The thing is, I like fish tacos too but because I’ve never heard of anyone being addicted to them, I’d probably never come to the conclusion that I am a fish taco addict.
Danielle had a lovely idea one day to see if she could recreate the beverage at home. After a couple tries she succeeds, and I am sipping coffee on my day off. So naturally, when she’s not home, I try and recreate the drink myself. It seems easy enough: a bit of coffee, a lot of milk, and a pump of syrup. Shake well in ice and in my mind I should be transported back to the Ebar where I pay $3.40 everyday for this treat. But it never happens. I’ll put it all together, taste it, gag, and then keep adding more milk and syrup until I have a coffee the size of a big gulp that still doesn’t taste right. Today I made one that sort of tasted right when I tried it, then 2 minutes later when I tried it again (maybe the ice melting had something to do with it) tasted totally gross! So now I’m walking my dog with a huge gross coffee in one hand hoping that if I wait longer or sip from a different part of the cup it will somehow begin to taste like an Ebar Mocha Bianco. No luck. My wrist started hurting. I threw out.