Need a break from that feeling of impending doom? I know I do. Buzz away for a bit and sit in a meadow of flowers with me as I try this week’s Sink nature-drink — The Bee Sting.
When I think of bees, my first thought often goes to the simile Virgil used to describe the ideal, productive citizens of Carthage in the Aeneid (you see, I’m a Latin major, and if you don’t know what that entails, it’s basically a bunch of useless information that I can’t apply to real life, so I tell it to people against their will). However, when I’m not associating bees with ancient Roman texts, the phrase “Ya like jazz?” that plagued my late 2010s social media also comes to mind.
Since the word ‘bee’ already awakens parts of my brain that may have best remained hidden, the addition of ‘sting’ adds a connotation unbefitting the expected sweet flavor profile of a cinnamon latte with honey.
The baristas made my drinks in a record two minutes and 14 seconds. Might as well start calling me Barry B. Benson because these worker bees are putting up better numbers than ever since my column started coming out.
Upon first sip, two sweet elements — the distinct floral notes of honey and the slight spice of cinnamon — combined beautifully. The coffee adds the right amount of bitterness to cut through but not overpower that sweetness. Just as hexagons of honey come together to form delicious honeycomb, the core elements of the Bee Sting combine into an excellent drink.
The 2% milk I got in the hot drink did not add nor take away from that rendition of the Bee Sting. However, the substitute of almond milk in the iced version changed an excellent drink into a perfect one. The nuttiness added a complexity to the predictable flavor profile that made this drink un-bee-lievable. Almond milk was the quintessential nectar of this drink and without it, the other flavors would not have truly shined.
While those cozy flavors would make for a great warm winter drink, the iced version allowed each individual element to have a more distinct taste, forming it into a more well-rounded drink. A cold Bee Sting is meant to be enjoyed on a spring day — one where the rain has just cleared up, the flowers are still glistening from water droplets and there’s a hint of quiet before the buzzing of life begins again.
Maybe it’s called a Bee Sting because that quiet can’t last forever, but we can all try to make it through the noise together. Stay tuned for next week, when I’ll be trying the Sink’s three fall specials.
Always Brewing the Best Reviews,
Dylan Fee
