Because today, I accidentally ordered one of those olive oil drinks from Starbucks that they announced a while ago. A friend of mine saw them at the fancy tasting room in April, but I hadn't realized they'd made it to the wild yet. Granted, I live in the PNW (that's "Pacific Northwest" for the uninitiated), so maybe it's still being tested?
Anyway, I was in the drive-through at the start of a morning of errands, and when I saw that a "NEW!" drink had both oatmilk and "toffeenut," I told the barista that took my order I'd "try that new Oleato shaken espresso." I love oatmilk in coffee, and I figured a "toffeenut" syrup would be fairly close to the pistachio flavor that is and always shall be my favorite (and I've tried asking at so many different locations and they claim they don't have the syrup year-round, so ya' girl's gotta substitute).
Anyway, I was in the drive-through at the start of a morning of errands, and when I saw that a "NEW!" drink had both oatmilk and "toffeenut," I told the barista that took my order I'd "try that new Oleato shaken espresso." I love oatmilk in coffee, and I figured a "toffeenut" syrup would be fairly close to the pistachio flavor that is and always shall be my favorite (and I've tried asking at so many different locations and they claim they don't have the syrup year-round, so ya' girl's gotta substitute).
(Just a heads up, I'm going talk about swallowing and mouthfeel in the next paragraph. Go ahead and "heh" all you want.)
I took my first huge gulp from the straw and wasn't wrong: the combination of the oatmilk and syrup did taste fairly close to a pistachio latte, if less flavorful overall - I could still taste that signature "burnt/overroasted" note that is in all SBux drinks that are lower on the additive/syrup-side (which is one of the reasons the pistachio is my fav, it totally masks that). In that split second, I figured I'd take a few sips to give me the energy I needed to get through my errands, then I'd just add some sweet cream to it when I got home. But almost immediately after swallowing, before the coffee was even down my esophagus, I was taken aback by an almost buttery flavor, instead. And the last moment the coffee was between the roof of my mouth and tongue, there was a greasy mouthfeel that was unexpected, unwelcome, and bizarre. I would have spit it out again if it wasn't already past the point of no return (and if I had had somewhere to do it, considering I was in my car).
Basically how I felt |
And then, the aftertaste went from a little buttery to... a lot buttery. Like popcorn the way I eat it, meaning with at least a 1/4 stick of butter melted and tossed onto it. The nuttiness from the syrup was still there, so it wasn't just butter, but it wasn't really pleasant.
Still, you know how when there's an olfactory experience that's not entirely unpleasant, you go in for more? Like a weird or unexpected candle scent that you put down, then reach for again a few times, or a sauce with a single ingredient that maybe doesn't quite jive with everything else but also doesn't render it inedible? That's how this coffee was. It wasn't terrible, it wasn't undrinkable, but it was weird, like the Uncanny Valley of coffees. So I drank some more. And then I noticed a few slimy, green-tinted blobs on the lid, and I honest to Bob groaned, "Oh NOOOO! I ordered that olive oil stuff!" alone, to myself, in my car, because I was so upset about this turn of events.
I thought of the friends I'd talked to about it months ago, how we'd all agreed it was a resounding, "NO THANK YOU!" in:re olive oil in our coffee. And I wasn't sure if they'd laugh with or at me, mostly because I honestly wasn't sure which of those I was yet.
And then, I thought of, of all people, my gorram therapist. And figured she'd tell me to either keep drinking it as-is, or add stuff to it later (like I'd already thought about doing) to make it work for me. No, she and I don't discuss my food or beverage choices on a regular basis, but how I handle upsetting and unexpected events? All the time. So... I decided to stick it out. In the name of that sweet little old lady that gets my fucked up sense of humor. (You bet your ass I'm telling her this story next session.)
And the more I drank, the less off-putting it was. Like an acquired taste, I suppose. I even found I kind of liked it, if you can believe it. And I ended up finishing most of it off by the time I got home, to my own surprise.
But. And I won't go into details, but the whole thing that brought this coffee up with my friends in our group chat was when one of us dropped this story in the chat. And for some reason, I'd forgotten about it all morning, until I pulled up in my apartment parking lot. And it hit me. Like, SUPER hard, and SUPER fast.
Ruh-roh, indeed |
Did I make it? I guess that depends on your definition of "make it," now doesn't it?
You, right now |
So, I can confirm, even though I'd had a perfectly good morning movement, I still had to make a mad dash to the toilet about two hours after my first sip of this concoction.
And what upset me the most as I eventually went back downstairs to unload the car was how I'd gone through all that, and the damn drink couldn't even hide the shit quality of the coffee they serve up. I mean, come on. If I'm going to have a bathroom emergency and re-tweak my back over some overpriced coffee, it should at least taste amazing, not like it has been sitting in the office decanter, with the coffee maker still in the "on" setting all gorram day.
But of course, after I was done unloading and putting everything away... I finished it. Because I am, at the end of the day, weak. I'm not proud of me, either. Not my best moment. But it was coffee, and it was there. I didn't even bother adding anything to it, either. Not sure why, maybe I subconsciously figured that was the punishment I deserved for finishing it?
But of course, after I was done unloading and putting everything away... I finished it. Because I am, at the end of the day, weak. I'm not proud of me, either. Not my best moment. But it was coffee, and it was there. I didn't even bother adding anything to it, either. Not sure why, maybe I subconsciously figured that was the punishment I deserved for finishing it?
This, by the way, is a picture I took of the cup after I tossed the ice.
You, again |
Whose ungodly idea was this? What sociopath decided to add olive oil to lattes and shaken espresso? Why on EARTH would anybody think this was a good idea?
(Note: The above questions are rhetorical. I don't give a shit what the actual answers are.)
If you've read this far, I appreciate you sticking with me. Take my advice. Do not get any of these "Oleato" drinks. I repeat.
DO NOT ORDER THE OLEATO DRINKS
Your bowels will thank me later.
Unless you're constipated. In which case, your bowels will thank me for entirely different reasons.