I miss you. I have missed you for quite some time, but now, as the streets of Paris begin to spring with newborn puppies, colorful short dresses, and high-contrast shadows, I miss you more than ever. It is too warm outside to sip a hot espresso. I need your strong, cold-brewed affection, preferably served inside a plastic cup with milk and a tall straw, oh, and a napkin wrapped around said cup (you know, just to catch the condensation). Whew.
Seattle’s Grand Central Bakery iced latte is my reigning favorite drink. Next is Philadelphia’s La Colombe iced coffee. They charge $2 for an iced coffee topped with a complimentary shot of espresso. Their baristas pull a shot so well that no milk is needed to temper it, ever. The first time I took a sip, I swear my veins jolted from the caffeine. Third, believe it or not, is Rice’s coffeehouse iced coffee. With its ever so slight hint of caramel flavor, that stuff is seriously amazing. It certainly does not hurt that they charge only $1.50 for a medium. Yes, I will have two, please ‘kay thank you.
My ideal mid-morning snack/meal consists of an iced latte from the aforementioned Seattle locale and a buttery, flaky French croissant. Alas, here in Paris I cannot acquire an iced coffee. The French simply do not believe in it (probably because they do not believe in ice). I was so desperate today that I broke down and visited a… Starbucks. Yes, I did it, and no, it was not worth it. (It was not the same.)
My dear iced coffee, I cannot wait to see you again. Until then, I will continue to sip my hot espresso, but I will only think of you.
[photos courtesy of ???]