Friday, November 5, 2010
There exists in areas of Manhattan a phenomenon people like to call bubble tea. I have never had the privilege of partaking of said delicacy, but I thought that a good idea for today's new adventure was to take a trip to view this bubble tea in its natural habitat. Chinatown. So, after an audition in midtown, I googled bubble tea joints, found the one with four stars, located it on the map on my iTouch (awesome Christmas present, mom and dad), used the City Transit app to figure which subway to take, and hopped on a train.
After a long ride (and those of you who know me know what a big deal it is that I went south of 14th street), I emerged in sunny Chinatown. It's an odd little section of the city. Rows of dim sum restaurants and "buy your live seafood" storefronts with little to no English on the signs are interspersed with Starbucks and Subways. The people on the street are a similar mix. People who obviously can read those signs and eat their seafood still wriggling are dotted with hungry looking tourists searching for a deal on a knockoff bag. I used
my trusty map app to locate my intended destination and I walked in . . . to Uiui Bubble Tea.
I looked at the menu. Not a lot in english. What I could read indicated that you can get pepper steak and garlic bread with your bubble tea. Hmmmm. Think I'll pass. I admitted to the sweet shopkeeper that I was new to the realm of bubble tea and asked her to suggest a best seller for me to cut my teeth on. She recommended black tea with milk.
"Sure", I said, "Can I get skim?". Of course not. I agreed to the whole milk and vowed to do an extra half hour on the elliptical.
"Do you want [something unintelligible with her really thick accent]?"
"I'm sorry. What?".
"Do you want [something still unintelligible]?"
She then put something dark and viscous looking into my tea.
"Oh, it's [something equally unintelligble]. You want?"
"Sure. What the heck."