The Word on Nutella Chai
One girl’s experience with Nutella Chai
I have a friend.
I have a friend who likes tea.
I have a friend who likes tea so much.
I have a friend who likes tea so much that she’d make me drive out of my way for it.
I have a friend who likes tea so much that she’d make me drive out my way for it and sit next to a dumping site.
This could become a very long, very convoluted poem so it’s best I end it here. But there are two takeaways from it: I have a friend and she’s big on tea.
Having this window into the world of tea-lovers has been interesting. There’s nothing quite like watching them dance around a ‘far too sweetened’ cup of tea in anger. So helpless; so funny. The window is interesting indeed, till they rope you into their crazy.
I don’t hate tea. In fact I drink tea on the regular, but only socially (and I’m social af). I could easily go a week without tea, if I went a week without people (IF). But I like my tea untampered: brewed tea leaves, foaming milk, and a bit of brown sugar. That’s it. Understandably, when I was introduced to the stuff-stuck-to-your-car-tyre that is Nutella chai, I wasn’t too psyched.
It was a pleasant day. It had just rained and my friend kept telling me about this miraculous tea spot in DHA. A dhaaba in DHA? Take me there!
‘There’ was The Manji Munch, a spot populated by university students and self-anointed stuntmen on bikes. Let us be classy or give us death. Before I got over what choices in life led me here, my friend had ordered tea for us. But there was a catch; she went for the craziest thing on the menu, which happened to be Nutella chai.
Although I’d always been on-edge about the Nutella frenzy plaguing Lahore’s street-food scene, I’d been quiet about it. Mess with a paratha or naan, and I might just fidget with some dead skin around my fingers. But do anything to tea (TEA) and we have a major problem. As I did in that instance. The friend, as is always the case, told me to go to hell. So I watched the sixth dude-on-a-bike attempt a wheelie. Zero claps for you.
Our ‘tea’ (I cringe while calling it that) arrived in twenty minutes. That’s a LONG time, and I could’ve assumed it required special preparation time. But it didn’t; the staff was just lazy. I picked it up and a whiff of under-boiled milk hit my nostrils. I glared at my friend, who considered it a matter of pride to not give away her level of disgust.
Another weird thing I do is wait for my tea to get slightly cold. It burns us, Precious. While I waited for it to get to the right temperature, lumps of Nutella began appearing on the top. Warty tea. Yum. When I finally sipped this concoction that faintly resembled tea, it met all my expectations. In that it sucked.
Chocolate and tea are a major no-no, folks. Don’t make yourself go through it. Atrocious taste aside, you’ll gulp down the tea but the Nutella in your Nutella chai is going to cling onto your throat for a bit. I couldn’t take more than two sips of it. My friend? Soldiered through half of the mug before asking for the bill. It was only fair that she paid for it and, oh, she paid for it.
I have nothing against Nutella. It’s gotten me through exam stress and personal woes (don’t get me started). Hell, ISIS thought it could lure people in with Nutella! But even ISIS would agree that Nutella chai is a fail and that it will continue to be a fail. If anyone knows anything about failing, it’s got to be ISIS.