I hate these fucking things.
This weekend, while relaxing on the beach (or, more likely, relaxing in a bar), I received a notification from facebook. It turns out that a friend of mine (and I use “friend” lightly here) wanted to let me know that you can get your PSL iced! This did not ruin my weekend, but it is certainly having deleterious effects on my morning.
Let me begin by pointing out that iced coffee is bullshit. Now I’m not a big fan of coffee in general – on the occasions when I drink it, I drink it hot, and black, and only for the concentrated caffeine dose. One of the few redeeming qualities is that it is so hot that you basically cannot taste it. Coffee is, ultimately, just very bitter water. I don’t like bitter things, as a matter of course – ask anyone who knows me how I feel about IPAs, for example. So the tongue-burning temperature at which coffee is usually served is a good antidote: you don’t have to actually taste anything.
Iced coffee, then, is bullshit. It is cold, but not so cold that it underflows and you manage to escape taste. No, it brings out all the disgusting, bitter flavours that should be hidden from us. The iced PSL in particular brings out a whole ream of new flavours that the usual PSL (despite not being hot enough by half) has hidden.
The first taste of this morning’s iced PSL was comparable in shock and revulsion to my experience on day 1. A whole new flavour palette opened up, nearly choking me with its acrid bouquet. The drink opens up in your mouth in a way it doesn’t when it is served (somewhat) hot. The immediate experience is much, much worse than a traditional semi-hot PSL.
There are benefits, however! The taste seems to be lingering less in the back of my throat. I didn’t have to suck down as much whipped cream (or I just avoided sucking it all down at once; it does seem to be gone). And I didn’t have to find one of those damned hand-protecting cozy thingies. I’m grasping at straws here, I know.