Boba fetish
A quick guide on bubble tea and where to get it
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I scream, you scream, we all scream for… bubble tea? The shops that whip up these striking drinks are as ubiquitous for Tweeting teenagers and assorted Asiaphiles as the coffee houses of the mid-’90s were to flannel-wearing neo-bohemians. Of course, you don’t have to be a cosplay nerd to appreciate a cool drink on a hot summer day, so The A.V. Club offers this primer on these singular smoothies, and the unexpected places where they can be found.
Shoppers roaming the isles of H Mart know better than to expect the same old 31 flavors of anything. The chewy black bubbles known as “boba” (which are best understood as an emergent property of tapioca, rumored to be named after the Korean slang for “nipple”) are just the sort of foodstuff you’d expect to find at an Asian-owned grocery chain specializing in exotic ingredients and foreign comfort foods (like Pokari Sweat sports drink and the chocolate-dipped mystery sticks known as Pocky). In one corner of the store, flavors as varied as green tea, lychee, and plum wine are rendered into liquid form, covered with a heat-sealed lid, and pierced by a plastic straw that’s roughly the circumference of a garden hose (the better to capture the boba with) by tired shoppers looking for a quick hit of refreshment.
While the name may not sound promising, Cowbobas lets diners who stumble across this south Federal eatery know exactly what to expect: a bizarre hybrid of smoothie shop and Sizzler. Here, diners indulging in a protein-packed meal can complement their inexpensive porterhouse steak and Texas toast with a Vietnamese coffee version of bubble tea that perfectly mimics the flavor of the real thing (which is also on the menu, but what’s the point of that?)
Lollicup (multiple Denver and Boulder locations) is the Starbucks of bubble tea shops, a millennial twist on the soda fountains of yore. And it’s known for its extensive menu. The adventurous—and people suffering from irreparable damage to their taste buds—could come in every day for weeks without sampling every offering: green bean, red bean, sesame, avocado, and taro (a sticky-sweet member of the potato family rarely found in any American dish, much less a new-wave milkshake) can be ordered without the counter person ever batting an eyelash. Also available are two java-flavored varieties, simply called coffee and cappuccino. While the difference in taste between the two is negligible, those in need of a jolt will find this does the trick just as well as the frappe’d drink du jour from any old coffee chain.
