I've been meaning to review this one all semester, but me having Taz's meal card or cash with me never seemed to coincide with Claymore having coconut, almond and chocolate flavor syrups. I had a barista substitute hot cocoa mix once. It was bad, so I decided to hold out on the review until I could get all the witnesses on stand and give the Almond Joy a fair trial.
I'll give it this: The Almond Joy tastes exactly like the candy bar. I had never tried one but, for the sake of research, I accepted one from a classmate's Halloween stash.
It was... okay. Just like the steamer. If you're cuckoo for coconut, then you'll love this drink. If you have an insatiable sweet tooth, even better - you can skip the candy aisle and go for something with real calcium in it! But if you're the kind of person that keeps the mashed potatoes on the opposite side of the plate from the cranberry sauce, might I advise that you also keep your drink and dessert separate in this case.
As an OFFICIAL member of the Claymore crew, I now have the freedom to invent random drinks whenever I feel like it. Oh how I love this job. I wanted to squeeze in my first recommendation while it's still fall because anything based on apple pie goes out of style once winter hits like white pants after Labor Day.
My first mad brewin' is called "Crackle Cider," so named because it is so yummy that it might as well be made of crack. At this time of year, I would think almost any coffee shop should be able to replicate the recipe if you ask. I made a pretty name card for it with lots and lots of glitter glue, but someone took it down, so alas I do not have a picture, only instructions for your own mad brewin'.
To brew Crackle Cider: Start with a cup of hot apple cider, add a shot or so of caramel syrup, sprinkle in cinnamon and nutmeg, and garnish with whipped cream. Drizzle caramel syrup and/or sprinkle cinnamon sugar on top if desired.
It's like a fresh apple pie in a cup. Now some of you may be wary of food-in-a-cup after seeing how the people in Wall-E turned out, but don't let that stop you. It's just this once. It's a special treat. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone.
It's Thanksgiving Day, but I won't bore you with an essay of the same things everybody is thankful for today. I have amazing friends and an amazing family and an amazing boyfriend. I have a roof over my head and plenty to eat, I go to a great school, I have a great internship, and I always have something to wear (even when I despair that "I have nothing to wear!").
Of course I'm thankful for those things. But there are a lot of smaller, less cliché things that I am also thankful for, and I think they deserve some recognition. This Thanksgiving, I give thanks for...
Light bulbs.
Forks. Text messaging. Candles. Single stream recycling. Plungers. Soy milk (picture from Urban Blah).
Bass guitar. Flannel. Scott Westerfeld. Swiss Miss hot chocolate. Dirty feet.
Ladies and gentlemen, after a very long and sad hiatus, I at last bring you the (I hope) dearly missed Excavations of Claymore. We shall begin with the Thrilla in Vanilla, a vanilla and mint latté.
I've never been anything but honest with you folks, and honestly, I was not thrilled with the Thrilla in Vanilla.
I love the name, and I love the flavors in it, and I really really tried to like the drink itself. I even sampled it more than once, made by three different baristas (including myself ^_^). It just isn't a good drink.
Something about the mint highlights the bitterness of the espresso. I realized that all the other drinks I enjoy that have mint in them either use peppermint (as in Starbucks' peppermint mocha), are iced, or don't contain espresso.
When I first started drinking coffee, I always got it with mint because it overpowered the flavor of the espresso. Now, connoisseur that I am, I have learned that it is better to complement the espresso with flavors like Irish Creme. Like the ugly new benches marring Go-Co's lovely campus every few yards or the hulking, enigmatic monument to gravity, the taste of espresso can't be hidden. Luckily it's easier to embrace than ugly benches...
But the Thrilla doesn't embrace. Perhaps it's just my touchy-feely taste buds, but I'm gonna have to give this drink two stars.
This is a coffee-lover's coffee. There's no sweet, spicy, or minty masking of what's in the mug; it tastes like what it is. It's good, honest coffee. Flannery O'Connor was the first to say that a good coffee is hard to find, but tonight we can call off the search: It's been found.
Cooney Cooney's bitterness may bite, but luckily he's a smooth talker. The drink's creamy overtone softens the taste without sugarcoating it, just like a good writer's workshop. It all evens out to a rich, earthy experience. Dark, yes, but even the land of Oz had its dark places, and you can be sure that was magical.
Take it from a girl who likes her milk and sugar with a smidge of coffee: This drink is bomb.
Peace, love and procrastination, Miss Rex
----------------------------- As you can see, Excavations of Claymore have returned! Thanks, Michael, for demonstrating that the baristas do indeed have their shit together. At least some of them...
It's time to cast your vote for the next drink of the week. There are only a few left! After that we will venture together into the great unknown! I.e. I will let you all list random flavors, throw them together in a drink and see what happens.
Almond Joy Cocoa-nut Island English Challenge Prickly Cactus Thrilla in Vanilla
One of the best and worst things about living in an apartment is cooking for yourself. On the one hand, there was rarely anything in the dining hall that was both vegetarian and appetizing, but on the other hand... well, let's just say my cooking skills are... rudimentary.
I've been using a lot of Parmesan cheese. It's great for the obvious (pasta), but also on summer squash or with garlic and crushed red peppers in olive oil as a dip for bread.
JW and Cripple were over at dinnertime the other evening and I offered to make pasta. Everything went fine until someone reminded me we needed cheese. I noticed the granules had clumped together to form a huge ball of Parmesan and started to shake the container.
Next thing I knew it was raining cheese.
I guess the lid wasn't shut very tightly. The worst part is that it was probably me who failed to shut it in the first place, since I use sprinkle cheese way more than anyone else around here. D'oh.
All you need is love, and my weekend was full of it.
Thursday I had dinner with my friend Shmoe and his parents. We've been friends since Shmoe moved here our sophomore year of high school and I've always been close with his family too. Now that he's in the Coast Guard, we don't get to hang out much, so it was really excellent to catch up. After dinner we went for a night walk to see the fireflies in the fields behind his house. I've never seen so many! It was most magical. Shmoe caught me one, but it liked him better and flew away when he passed it to me.
Friday I took Derry on a little road trip to see my buddy Extra Large in a Medium World (remember my Awkward Game adversary?). I didn't think the little guy (the car, I mean) had it in him, but he made it without a problem. If one considers me driving most of the way without stepping on the brake to be "without a problem."
XL's mom made us delicious French toast with homemade caramel syrup for brunch. Let's just say I can understand why XL doesn't like school food. After, he took me to this park with a pond and a waterfall where he used to go fishing. We found a tetherball pole and I challenged him to a game.
If anyone is wondering, taking on a 6'7" guy at tetherball is not a recipe for win, and I have a bruise on my shin to prove it (turns out climbing the tetherball pole is also not a recipe for win).
We had to stop for crumbly crack (to all you normal people, butternut) donuts from this place in his town because even crazies need a little extra crazy sometimes. Then we crashed XL's dad's college reunion. They gave us good food and we cloud-watched for a solid hour and a half while the alumni caught up. I spotted an elephant and Hokusai, the great wave. XL found a bunch of dinosaurs and a camel. Overall a pretty successful round of cloud-gazing. We'll call it a tie.
Saturday I got to play princesses with Princess Sharon. She used to be my teacher but now she throws magical birthday parties for little girls, and I help sometimes. I befriended this in the mansion we partied at that day:
"Ford." "Yes." "I think I'm a sofa." "I know how you feel..." - The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
The party was in the town next to the town where my first boyfriend (a.k.a. He Who Must Not Be Named) lived. His house wasn't exactly on the way, but I was early and remembered how to get there even after six years (and in spite of the fact I hadn't driven myself there back in the day; it was before I had a license). So I thought I'd drive by and see how the place was doing. HWMNBN moved out west ages ago but the house is still crunchasaurus ice cream blue, so I assume his grandparents still live there. It was weird seeing that it hadn't changed at all. It was like, instead of going to the town six years later, I just drove back in time and saw it the way it used to be. Hm, surreal. But off topic.
After the party I drove into Boston (miraculously Derry STILL hadn't broken down) to see another school friend, who we're gonna call Rad because he showed me this amazing song by the band Radical Face:
You don't have to watch. Just listen and be amazed.
Rad and I grabbed dinner at Chipotle and walked around the Prudential Center playing Never Have I Ever. We realized we'd mostly done and not done the same things, except I'd never kissed a girl.
The mall was mostly closed since it was after 9, but Barnes and Noble was still open (cue heavenly light beams and angel choir). We bonded over creepy posters of Robert Pattinson and that werewolf guy, Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, and (naturally) poetry.
We were going to crash a bar after that, just to see if we could get in, but everyone was carding at the door so we just went back to his apartment. Rad played Train and Somewhere Over the Rainbow on his electric ukelele and showed me his balcony. Then I realized it was late-ish and my mother would worry if I didn't come home soon, so I left, and Derry still didn't die.
Today I had lunch with an atheist I met at my former youth group. It had been more than a year since we'd hung out, but thankfully he's one of those crazy people who never change. At least the parts you love never change. I'm sure he's smarter and more mature than back in the day. We got sammiches and ice cream and disturbed the other patrons with our enthusiastic discussion of mosh pits and hymns.
The reason I had to go back and write this very long post (thank you, anyone who's still with me) is because someone I consider a decent friend made me feel really stupid and worthless tonight, and I needed to remind myself how many amazing, positive, loving people I have in my life. The Beatles got a lot of things right, and this was one of them: all you need is love.
Rome may not be the center of the world anymore, but try telling that to the eight million tourists milling around the Vatican. For the number of people here and for the diversity of language and race, it’s easy to forget that all roads no longer lead to Rome. But the bustle of the city also begs the question: Has Rome been too commercialized? Or does it still retain some of the ancient magic that made it a cultural hub years ago? I think the answer is, “both.”
I believe it’s important for people to come here and see the artifacts and sites. It provokes a connection and sense of reverence regarding history that can only be gained in a hands-on way. It’s mind-boggling to picture a group of people more or less like me erecting hundred-foot-tall stone columns at their public forums or the thousand arches of the Coliseum, not out of aesthetic ambition but for practical use. Just as I walk to the dining hall and then to the chapel and then to the library each day without a thought, the ancient Romans worked, ate, worshiped, played and studied in these majestic structures every day.
Imagining a population for whom these sights were ordinary offers a moving peek into history that we are fortunate to have.
Beyond even that, structures such as the crumbling Coliseum remind us that no earthly empire is everlasting, no matter how vast or powerful. I am reminded of the poem “Ozymandias” by Percy Bysshe Shelley, which tells of a traveler who found the ruins of a huge statue. An inscription reads, “Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair.” Ozymandias thought his kingdom would last forever. In the same way, people thought Rome would never fall. Neither is with us anymore. It’s not hard to imagine tourists visiting the United States in a few millennia to see what’s left of the Pentagon or Mount Rushmore. It’s a sobering thought, but I think people need to grasp the transience of all we take for granted – not only so we can appreciate the good things we have, but also so we can learn to hold those things loosely, assigning greater value to the intangible qualities of culture.
Yet on the other hand, the commercialized aspect of the tourist scene makes me cringe, and it’s more than the pressing crowds that make me feel that way. It seems somehow wrong to “go see the Vatican,” a place that was built to be holy and honoring to God. It’s not a museum. It’s holy ground (or should be). I’m glad the Pope still used it for his weekly message and that pilgrims still worship there. In this way, it is still being used for its intended purpose. On the other hand, I think the builders’ original vision for some of the other monuments has been lost.
But then, we have progressed. Maybe it is too much to ask that a new culture in a new millennium cling to the values of a culture so old we can hardly understand it. To the ancient Romans, watching lions eat Christians was quality entertainment. It would turn our stomachs today. For us, it would be sick to reinstate gladiatorial fights in the Coliseum, yet I believe it is a good thing to use that space as the public arena it was meant to be. I heard there was recently a concert there. Surely the designers did not intend for power chords to resonate through the stone arches. At the same time, this use of the Coliseum holds true to a purpose the architects may not have intended, but which is nonetheless as old as the structure itself: spectacle.
The real disrespect is the way vendors and con artists have turned the historical and religious sites into marketplaces and stages for robbery. Walking out of the Vatican, souvenir shop windows display tacky gold souvenirs plastered with the face of the Pope as if he were some flamboyant celebrity. It makes me think of the Bible story about Jesus overturning the tables in the sanctuary. It’s an even greater shame that portions of the city, including some of the most ancient sites, bear the artwork and tags of vandals.
All else aside, the fact that the new Rome reflects aspects of the greater global culture can hardly be pegged as a bad thing. Global culture values green space. One can see this in the city of Rome. As a matter of fact, the Italians have valued green space for centuries. In the center of the city you’ll find the gardens of the Borghese palace, a sprawling grassy space with paths for horseback riders and knolls for picnickers. Trees are scattered about and green and yellow birds fight scrawny brown squirrels for branch space. The gardens have been there for six hundred years, way before the rest of the world had even begun to create the pollution we are now desperate to eliminate with our city parks and nature reservations. Rome does not just open a window on ancient cultures; it spotlights today’s in a manner that even the culturally semi-literate can comprehend as a good thing, in spite of what may have been lost in the sweep of time and tourism.
------------------------------ And now for the much-slaved-over video, for which my video partner Tyler went to great lengths to procure a firewire cable (which connects the camcorder to the Mac) and for which he was pick-pocketed in the process:
Made with really, really good looks, but not-so-good taste.
I love cinnamon (or as my roommate Taz says, "smimmanin"). It's great in oatmeal, French toast, cream of wheat, Snickerdoodles, and crack. Except I lied about the last one. Anyway, the point of the above list was to emphasize that smimmanin does not belong in liquid, ever. It may be a nice embellishment to a pumpkin spice chai apple cider topped with whipped cream, such as the one I got at the place near Gill's school when I visited Ohio. But not in the drink, for goodness sake.
If you want a vanilla chai, get a TeaMac (it comes with a chocolate drizzle at no additional charge). If you want to mix things up, get a TeaMac with almond, you party animal. Do not by any means add cinnamon.
That said, it wasn't an utter failure of a drink, it just sort of tumbled into the uncanny valley of beverages. I'll allow it two stars. But it's weird.
---------------------------- Next week is the LAST Claymore review of the year! What shall I try?
Almond Joy Coconut Island Cooney-Cooney English Challenge Michelini The Perfect Cap Prickly Cactus Rasp-LIMErry Fizz (clearly NOT coffee) Thrilla in Vanilla
I posted this on my other blog, The Amandangle, and it's also on the Gordon College News Service blog. But I think it's an important story that needs to be seen by as many eyes as possible (especially Boston-area eyes, because you folks are within driving distance of this thing and therefore had better be there!)
---------------------------
When local folk rock band Adam Ezra Group sold out the Paradise Rock Club for their CD-release-turned-Haiti-benefit show in January, it was not the first or the last time the band would use their music for the good of others. On Sunday, May 2, AEG will play a concert to benefit Haiti through Partners in Health.
PIH is a Boston nonprofit organization that strives to establish working hospitals in Haiti and around the world, thus providing health care and job opportunities for indigenous people. It is the same organization AEG partnered with in January.
“They’re setting a standard worldwide for what you can do with a grassroots organization,” said Adam Ezra, singer, songwriter, and guitarist for the band.
Through his work with other nonprofits, Ezra has seen how difficult it can be to ensure the money goes where it’s needed, but he’s found that isn’t a problem with PIH. The band looks forward to sending all proceeds from their May 2nd show, the Ramble, directly to Haiti for relief efforts.
AEG isn’t the first band to play a benefit show, but the Ramble promises to be an utterly unique experience. In fact, it already is one. The band has been working with fans since winter to rally groups of 20 or more concertgoers. These groups will be shuttled to the venue, Blue Ocean Music Hall in Salisbury, MA, free of charge from all across New England.
“We’re empowering students and fans who care about not just the music but about doing good things,” said Ezra. “The show is less about the money we’re raising and more about the community we’re building.”
In the spirit of community, a pre-amble will take place on the beach outside of the venue starting at 4:00 PM. The Hall will serve inexpensive meals and the bar will be open for drinks to those who are over 21. Ezra hopes other local nonprofits will set up camp on the beach so fans can get informed and get involved.
There is even rumor of a fan-run cookie contest. Anyone can enter and anyone can try the cookies for free, but they must make donations to vote for the winner. Whoever raises the most money for Haiti will be declared the winner.
650 people packed out the Paradise Rock Club for the January benefit show, but Ezra’s hopes for the Ramble are still modest. “It’s an experiment,” he said. “We’re not sure what’s going to happen. But it will be a success no matter what.”
Charlene Bemis, Ramble coordinator, said that more than a dozen buses are already lined up. She estimated there would be about fifteen the day of the concert.
More information is available at GetRambled.com and on the Ramble’s Facebook page. Ezra hopes everybody will think about joining the party, and only marginally out of self-interest. It seems his real goal is to make friends with everybody in the greater Boston area while fighting together for a cause.
“If you love music and you love the beach and you love people and you love doing good things for other people, then you should check it out,” said Ezra. “And I can’t think of too many people who don’t fit one of those categories.”
-------------------------- And that's the scoop! If you're at or near Go-Co, we've got a bus stopping here, so let me know and I can make sure you get a seat.
On a tangential note, I bought fresh blueberries from a farm stand and they are delicious. This is really weird but I eat them in milk. No cereal, just blueberries in milk. Try it sometime (it's even good with soy milk!)
On a furtherly tangential note, some of my friends put a toilet on top of a dorm last night. <3
S. Darko. Shrek 2. Saw II. Honey I Blew Up the Kid. Shrek the Third. Step Up 2, Shrek Forever After, Saws 2-6 plus the upcoming 7 and 8... It seems the trend in movies these days is to take a decently well-made movie and spoil it by making a completely unnecessary sequel or string of sequels. Now the sequel doesn't ALWAYS suck, although many of them do, but the real problem is just that having a mediocre sequel takes away from the awesomeness that was the original.
Fiona's Wicked Minty Apple Cider was good, but it was the unnecessary sequel to the beloved Meg's Apple Cider.
You got your apple juice. You got your chai. You got your mint. It's pretty straightforward. Now, we know that apple and chai mix well, but mint really doesn't go with either flavor, even simply as an undertone. I think it's because you have two strong flavors doing battle upon your palate. And they're both tingly flavors: Malfoy mint vs. Cho Chang chai, zinging tickle charms back and forth in a wizard's duel of apple-icious proportions.
I'll give Fiona 3 stars, but I really don't think she's got anything new to offer. However, I'm sure she'll be your friend if you're on a coffee date and want to make sure your breath is minty fresh when you make out after you've had your caffeine fix. Just sayin'.
I've eaten a lot of weird stuff in my day, particularly during the 12 days I spent in the wilderness on my freshman orientation adventure. Pepperoni and honey. Tuna fish and jelly. Freak-o-butter, whatever the heck that was... I think there was milk powder and M&Ms in it and we used it for "sandwiches" like your everyday jar of Skippy. When you've been canoeing since 5 in the morning, you'll eat just about anything. Oh, and I mustn't forget - chips and salsa with M&Ms are a party must-have for my friends at home. I have a weird palate, OK? Enter the Orange Real.
No no, it's not a chai latté with an orange on the side. It's a chai latté with fresh squeezed orange juice in it.
WTF, right?
On some fateful, random night, the coffee shop gods compelled my friends Kenya and Hippie to brew this concoction. We'll leave the question of their sanity out of this review and just talk about the drink.
The Orange Real tastes like an orange dreamsicle, except liquid and hot. You can hardly tell there's chai in it at all - there's a hint of spice, but really it's just a big creamy cup of orange magic. If you think that a steaming cup of dreamsicle sounds bizarre, you're right. It definitely has a weird flavor, so if you're one of those people who can't have their food touching on the plate, it's probably not for you. But for you pioneers of taste, I'm sure you'll be quite satisfied with the unique (and organic!) appeal of the Orange Real.
I give it 4.5 stars overall, 4 for taste and 5 for creativity plus nutritional value.
-------------------------- Vote for the next Claymore Drink of the Week!
Almond Joy Cherry Cordial Coconut Island Cooney-Cooney English Challenge Fiona's Wicked Minty Apple Cider Michelini The Perfect Cap Platelet's Perfection Prickly Cactus Rasp-LIMErry Fizz (clearly NOT coffee) The Shortstack Chai Thrilla in Vanilla
As you can see in this picture, Mr. Lincoln put his best foot forward with the yellow tux, stripey tie and backwards "K." By no stretch of the imagination am I being facetious. The Kyle Lincoln is truly the coffee of yellow-tuxedoed super heroes everywhere, and if it's not, well, that would explain why we haven't heard much from the masked men of the skies lately.
You all know that I don't hand out five-star ratings like free t-shirts at Go-Co, but for the second week in a row, I am totally floored by the Claymore drink of the week. My figurative jaw is on the ground (but I made sure to keep my literal jaw shut so the delicious coffee wouldn't spill out. 'Twould have been most uncouth).
It's hard to put my taste buds on what was so extraordinary about this blend of chocolate, English toffee and Irish creme, and I think that's why it was so good. They say the human eye prefers an average face - that is, one of perfect symmetry, balance and proportion. The same must be true of flavors.
You may, in some vaguely recalled high school science class, have seen a diagram of the tongue delineating the different taste regions. This theory was actually debunked before any of us were in high school, even my "grown-up" readers - it's based on a mis-translation of something originally written in German and was corrected early last century. However, I have noticed that different parts of my tongue taste different kinds of flavor more strongly. One of the amazingly average features of the Kyle Lincoln... wow, how to make this not awkward since the drink has a person's name... well, scientifically speaking, it stimulates all of the taste regions, which makes my tongue (non-scientifically) very happy.
There was no one overwhelming element. The drink was not too sweet, not too bitter, not too fruity or too dark or too artificial. I believe I said the same for the Irish Dream, which leads me to believe that Irish creme must simply be the perfect mate to coffee. The Sam Gamgee or Robin or Ron Weasley of flavor shots. You think Frodo or Batman or Harry Potter would've been anyone without their sidekicks? Heck to the no. They would've been effed. We would live in a world ruled collectively by Sauron, the Joker and Lord Voldemort if not for these unsung heroes.
The moral of the story is that you should definitely give this drink a try. I think it will please all kinds of coffee-lovers, whether their preference is sweet or earthy... and it may also give you superpowers.
--------------------------
Next week I'll be sampling the Orange Real courtesy of my barista friend Kenya, author of the Orange Real experience. After that, I'll only be here three more weeks before summer starts! I shall truly miss my Claymore reviews. I may even go into withdrawal. The sad truth is that this experiment seems to have developed into an addiction. I drink coffee like three times a week now and it's the first thing I want when I start yawning. I mean, thank goodness it was just coffee and not cocaine, but a summer off will probably do me good.... me, and my wallet.
I got back to my room at 3:36 this morning after One Awesome Night. My friend the Spontaneous Concert Enthusiast took me and his girlfriend to see Kiros in Maine. I didn't have very high hopes for the show after hearing it was at a church, because let's face it, have you EVER seen a GOOD concert in a church? No. You haven't. They don't happen. But this thing was legit for three important reasons.
1. People were lined up across the parking lot in the pouring rain in hopes of getting decent spots.
2. They had epic security. The guys outside the show seemed determined not to let the three of us be the first ones in, but we got there at 3:30 in the afternoon and we DESERVED to be the first ones in, darn it, so we shoved our way to the front of every new line they tried to stick us at the end of. Then we finally get in only to find that there are tall, grumpy looking men stationed every few feet in front of the stage and that made seeing the show a wee bit problematic. But SCE danced his face off, which the guards near us apparently found endearing, and they chilled out a little after that.
3. There were lights. Big, bright, flashing lights of many colors and in great numbers that made me very happy in spite of probably costing an obscene amount of money.
Kiros sadly had a very short set, I think about five songs, which was such a bummer after that long ride, but it was still worth it because they played "As Long as You Love Me" by the Backstreet Boys and SCE got to go up on stage and dance like a BSB. Also, Ryan told me to stand at his end of the stage so he could steal my heart-shaped sunglasses for the last song. It was priceless (and me without a camera, for mine decided to fail last month).
The second band, DecembeRadio, really got the crowd excited and their set was in general a lot of fun even though I didn't know any of their songs. But I did not like Seventh Day Slumber, the third band. Their music wasn't terrible, but between the hard rock hymns and the liquid nitrogen shooters, I got this icky feeling they were trying way too hard to prove that Jesus can be cool.
Then the singer spent about an hour giving his story of faith. I couldn't not respect the guy after hearing all he went through, but all the same, I didn't drive to Maine for a sermon. If you want to read my whole rant, be my guest. For now, back to tales of the Kiros!
Picture this (I giggle every time I do). Tyler, the drummer, borrowed my brand new pink paisley umbrella to go outside before the show and introduce himself to the kids. Now this guy has long hair, facial piercings, a full sleeve on one arm as well as tats on his feet and possibly elsewhere that I don't know about, and gauge piercings in his ears. Furthermore, after meeting a kid who said he was a rapper, Tyler proceeded to rap with the kid, still holding my pretty pink umbrella. Again, where is my camera when I need it?
Barry convinced SCE to pretend to break up with his girlfriend after Barry asked her why she loves Jesus and she only gave him the "Sunday School answer." Luckily Barry and I were laughing in the background so she knew SCE wasn't serious.
After everything was packed up, we all went to Wendy's, crossing our fingers that it would still be open since it was 12:50 and they close at 1. There was a guy in a pickup truck right in front of us and we watched him get his food, but the Wendy's workers totally ignored us. So we pulled up to the pick-up window and tried to reason with them, but they wouldn't hear it, so instead we went to a gas station.
Ryan dared me to hit on a couple of drunk ladies in there, but I wasn't entirely sure I could even pull of hitting on a dude, so he took it upon himself to make sure these gals got hit on. It was great.
Then we all did these weird little espresso shots we found next to the creamer, and the guys stole a bunch of them to put in the glove compartment for long drives.
Then we just sat around in their short bus for a while. Yes, they tour in a short bus. Their van blew up in Washington state or thereabouts and now they have this. It's pretty sexcellent.
Around 3ish, the band decided they should probably go to the house they were staying at that night (my parents would murder if a band showed up at our house at 3 in the morning), and there ends the tale of the Kiros.
After a fortnight of coffee overkill, I opted for the caffeine-free caramel steamer this week. I was pleasantly - no, fabulously - surprised. I expected it to taste rather bland (as hot milk tends to after much nomming of espresso), but at the suggestion of the bar-dude I got like five flavor shots in it and it was anything but bland, while simultaneously keeping its distance from that sketchy realm of sickly-sweet.
It was a happy drink. You can create any number of complicated flavor ratios at a ghetto basement coffee joint like Claymore, but in the end sometimes the pure and simple things are the most delicious.
The Caramello was like a flashback to the best Halloween you ever had without actually containing small children as an ingredient (which new Hershey's commercials unmask as the secret to Hershey's goodness. Yes, you've seen them on TV. The chocolate bar melts to reveal small children dancing while singing "I'll stop the world and melt with you..." And then they turn back into a solid chocolate bar, which viewers are now expected to leave the comfort of their sofas to go purchase. Sick, I tell you.)
So, back to the Caramello. Five stars, hands down. Go try one today.
OK, I confess: I didn't exactly try Granny's Turbo-Charged Butterscotch Latté last night. Reason being that when I asked for it, Kenya, the bardude of the night, was like "No no no! Get a better turbo-charged latté. That much butterscotch is bad for your soul."
I listened to the wise words of the bardude and ordered English toffee, French vanilla and Irish creme in my three-shot bucket of epic. Then I realized that it wouldn't have mattered what flavors I chose; a drink with that much espresso in it wasn't tasting like anything but espresso. So this week's review is short and sweet (or bitter, depending on how literal you're feeling as you read it ^_^).
I do not recommend the turbo-charged latté if you want a yummy cup of coffee. It's not horrendous, but even in a large cup it's like 50-proof espresso, which inevitably spoils the flavor.
However, I highly highlyhighly recommend the turbo-charged latté if you wish to stay awake for days on end.
I drank mine at 1:30 this morning and was still fully functional and coherent by 7AM. Normally my psyche dissolves into the realm of absurdity around 3 in the morning (if it doesn't succumb to sleep first), and normally, even without coffee, I then become very silly. I may have laughed a little too hard at one too many "that's what she said" jokes last night, but I wouldn't say I was bouncing off the walls.
I actually fell asleep watching District 9 with the Bathrobe Guy, who had his coffee cherry unpleasantly popped last night (yay the Bathrobe Guy! Uh, I mean, sorry about the peer pressure...). I went to bed just after 7 and fell asleep without any trouble.
But the tale does not end there. I awoke three hours later feeling refreshed and ready to face the day. I leapt out of bed and went about my morning routine with, frankly, far more energy than I normally do, which led me to believe that all that caffeine was still ricocheting about in my brain.
The Irish Dream: Unlucky enough to have misplaced its name card, and yet (I'm told), lucky enough to remain one of Claymore's most popular selections. In lieu of a name card, I will now proceed to share a picture of an Irish setter that I wish towill someday own.
The Irish Dream is a mocha with Irish Creme* in it. I suggest the dark chocolate cocoa mix for maximum nommability.
Honestly, I don't know what to say about this drink besides the obvious de-freaking-lightful. Usually in these reviews I like to caricature each drink by personifying the ingredients or elsewise exaggerating their bizarre flavors. But I've got nothing on this one. It's not too bitter, although it is a little bit; it's not too sweet, although it is a little bit; it's not too rich, although it is a little bit. It's like Baby Bear's porridge in Goldilocks and the Three Bears: juuuuuuuust right!
You know that gorgeous girl you pass every day, or sit next to in class, or who works at the dining hall? The one who makes you wonder every time you see her, "how come she got to be so drop-dead good looking?" and you want to hate her for it, but dammit, she's just too pretty to hate. You know her? This drink is like her. But liquid.
"Ah," as the Wizard of Oz said to Dorothy, "you liquidated her, eh?" Yes, Mr. Wizard. Yes, we did. And she was four stars worth of delicious.
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*A side note on Irish creme... umm... I still haven't figured out exactly what it tastes like, but I have come to the conclusion that my prior experience with it was bad because a) I had never, ever had coffee before, and/or b) I was just unlucky enough to have a bad barista that night. It happens. Now I'm crossing Irish creme off my list of things I do not like.
Things I do not like: Amaretto Olives Going to the dentist The possibility of being crushed in some dark, claustrophobic, underground tunnel Irish Creme
See? All better.
Next week, since the Bathrobe Guy is visiting for three days and we won't be sleeping, I'll be reviewing Granny's Turbo-Charged Butterscotch Latte. That's right, friends: THREE shots of espresso. You don't want to miss this.
Helloooooooooo, my loves! As always I apologize for the long and unexplained absence. I dunno what happens to me when I go home for vacation. It's like an anti-blog forcefield. Even though I spent most of the week griping about how boooooored I was, I still could not find it in my heart to sit down and write anything of interest. But never fear! Now that I am back at school with actual work to procrastinate from, I have TONS of fun ideas to write about!
We'll begin with a coffee review. Just to whet your whistle. This one is a little wild, so hold onto that swingin' vine, and watch out for that tree!
Okay, I know it was George who hit the tree, not Tarzan. But YOU had better watch out for that artificial banana taste! I'm no feminist, but I think it's safe to say that Tarzan totally dominates Jane in this drink, and it's time she became a liberated woman (as the saying goes).
Fake banana is a really hard flavor to work with. Real naners are most delish and go well in or with many things, such as bread and yogurt. And pizza, according to Razzmatazz and Mnomanoms, but Le Skeptic remains skeptical on that point.
Regardless, I was less than bananas over this drink. I know I raved about banana flavoring when I tried the Blondie back in September, but I have become wiser and realized that in fact it was the hazelnut I appreciated, not the banana. You know the really cheap, crappy fruit-shaped and allegedly fruit-flavored candy you get out of those 25-cent hand-crank machines at shopping malls and arcades? Fake banana tastes like that. Liquefied. For some reason hazelnut can mask that, but English toffee and French vanilla can't. Maybe Jane is one of those submissive types.
Or maybe it's just a question of ratios. I have in fact had a poorly-made Blondie that tasted pretty much the same as the Tarzan and Jane. I think the drink could pull three stars, but I suggest you order it with just a *hint* of banana, unless you're a little farther back on the evolutionary scale than the rest of us.
^ Yep, the modern blogger needs purple Chucks and a cute pink dress. At least this one does ^_^
------------------------------- Next week: The Irish Dream, as requested oh-so-long ago!
You know how Strong Bad calls beers "cold ones" so that kids watching Homestar Runner won't realize he's drinking alcohol? I feel like the Long Islander should be called a "hot one." Yeah, its name card specifically states that it contains no alcohol, and nor does it contain the coffee addict's drug. I just want to call it a "hot one" based on the name's resemblance to Long Island iced tea.
I can imagine myself walking down a busy New York street, drinking a Long Islander on my way to work in the morning. It has that NYC class, maybe even a hint of flair: a sophisticated sweet for the sophisticated New York sweetheart. And you're guaranteed to stand out for drinking it, which I hear is how they like it in New York: you're strolling around the coffee-guzzling capital of the world, yet the Long Islander hasn't got a drop of espresso to its name.
It's warm in flavor and temperature, which makes it a good choice for those yeah-it's-still-February-but-I-really-want-it-to-be-summer-blues nights. But I might actually recommend it even more in late fall. Autumn and chai are practically synonymous in my book.
Chai and tiramisu may sound like a complicated (and ritzy) blend, but it's actually quite simple. The sum total is sweet, with a spicy undertow and creamy froth. It's like someone took the J-Brands off steroids, which chilled it out to the point of being tolerable, but gave the kid a bucket of Halloween candy instead. I.e., this thing is still pretty hopped up on sugar, but if you're in the mood for rolling-on-the-floor-laughing company, maybe that's exactly what you want. Overall I give the Long Islander 3 stars.
And no worries if you're not a sophisticated New York sweetheart. The unsophisticated, catty Wisconsiner can most certainly enjoy a nice hot one.
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Several of you have asked me to try the Irish Dream. Michael, if you're reading, are you working this week at all? You're the only person I trust to make me drinks with Irish Creme, haha.
In the event that Michael is not working, let's hear everyone's votes for this week's Claymore selection!
Almond Joy Caramello Cherry Cordial Coconut Island Cooney-Cooney English Challenge Fiona's Wicked Minty Apple Cider Irish Dream Kyle Lincoln Michelini The Orange Real The Perfect Cap Platelet's Perfection Prickly Cactus Rasp-LIMErry Fizz (clearly NOT coffee) The Shortstack Chai Tarzan & Jane Thrilla in Vanilla
At Michael's request, I returned to give the Fighting Scot a second chance (because God gives second chances, and so should we!) At first sip I felt the same as before, but at some point during the cold, windy, rainy walk back to Ferrin, the little sucker sucked me in. I sucked it down in about 5 minutes, which is an all-time coffee-drinking record for me since I usually burn my tongue.
You can taste the butterscotch if it's made right. Or rather, the Irish Creme doesn't rape your taste buds if it's made right. I might even go so far as to say that the Fighting Scot is now one of my favorite drinks. As is the case with most Claymore drinks, you just need to go to the right barista.
On the down side, I will now be unable to sleep until at least 2AM, and I think I will be hard pressed to find anyone who wants to have a dance party at such an hour. Instead I will watch the second season of Pokemon on Hulu.
So the morals of the story are as follows: 1) Go to Michael for your Fighting Scot needs, 2) plan the dance party before you down the magic caffeine potion, and 3) Pokemon is awesome.
Peace, love, and Pikachu, Miss Rex
P.S. I'll be trying the Long Islander next - "chai with a hint of tiramisu!" Om nom nom.
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It was... okay. Just like the steamer. If you're cuckoo for coconut, then you'll love this drink. If you have an insatiable sweet tooth, even better - you can skip the candy aisle and go for something with real calcium in it! But if you're the kind of person that keeps the mashed potatoes on the opposite side of the plate from the cranberry sauce, might I advise that you also keep your drink and dessert separate in this case.
