Tikkabik

After the green tea latte I had at Starbucks on Saturday night, I think I can safely say that unless it's an emergency, I'm done with that company, period.

I wasn't feeling particularly well this past weekend (more on that later -- some of what happened was absolutely legendary) so after dinner Jim and I popped into the Starbucks across our hotel for a beverage. In typical fashion he ordered a coffee. I almost always order a venti non-fat sugar free vanilla latte, but this time I decided that coffee or espresso wouldn't agree with my stomach, so I opted for a green tea latte instead.

Green tea. It's one of the most benign beverages on the planet, traditionally made from leaves that haven't been overly processed or oxidized. Some people say that green tea tastes like grass; others that it doesn't taste like anything at all. Either way, its health benefits have been documented for more than 1,000 years, and I've found that a good cup of green tea helps soothe my tummy if I'm feeling off.

I guess that Starbucks' idea of a green tea latte is something loosely based on matcha, the powdered green tea used in Japanese tea ceremonies, infused with what tasted disturbingly like a shot of some sort of melon-flavored syrup. Add copious amounts of hot, frothed milk and what you're left with ain't tea, folks. It's a syrupy soft drink.

After a few experimental sips, I opened up the cup. What I found within was downright terrifying. This frothing, protozoan mass of green liquid that more closely resembled some seaweed monster come to life than a proper cup of tea. It looked like a melted Shamrock Shake from McDonald's.

Leave it to Starbucks to totally bollox a simple cup of tea.

If I ever have to go there again, I'll opt for a bag of Tazo in a cup of hot water.