How often do we notice the little joys of life? I don’t speak for everyone, of course, but as someone who has traversed their developmental phases through lovely periods such as Trump’s presidency and the age of the coronavirus, such savory moments appear exceedingly spare - and seem to reduce exponentially as we walk further into this second decade of the 2000s. Hopelessness, despair, and corruption writhe in the sidewalk cracks outside our apartments; we are forced to turn a blind eye in an attempt to survive the day.

Yeah, maybe all these Twitter news trends are getting to me. I sure hope it’s just that.

Regardless, no matter how conscious I as a tiny little member of society can be about my socioeconomicdigital impact on this world, there are countless forces out of my control that will inevitably cause death and destruction of insurmountable scales. I and many others can dream of ways to close off this vector, but sometimes it’s just too much. Sometimes we need to stop. Sometimes we need a little bit of joy.

And so I go to the coffee shop. And I order a coffee with hazelnut syrup and soymilk. And a slice of the coffee cake.

After wallowing for so long about so many things, it’s natural to want to find something that doesn’t hurt to exist with. Scarce are the moments when we consciously notice the little moments of joy in our lives, so why wait for them? Within your means, create them for yourself. Do your equivalent of a walk to the coffee shop. Find your little joy.

Oh, by the way, sorry if I sound like a motivational speaker. I’m not one by any means. In reality, I know not everyone will be able to follow this subjective advice that I pulled out of my ass, regardless of whether or not they want to or can afford to. Please take everything I say with a grain of salt. I mean, really, this was all just an intro and explanation for why I like to drink hazelnut coffee and eat coffee cake.

Hazelnut Coffee, My Survivor’s Guide

My good friend Arman tells me that he had personally introduced me to hazelnut coffee back in 2017 or so. I don’t believe him, because as it turns out, I remember the exact moment and reason that I ordered my first cup of hazelnut coffee.

But first, have you ever noticed that your palate dramatically shifts as you encounter change? Our food preferences can tell us so much about who we were as people. If you haven’t considered this before, think back to the foods you enjoyed in your childhood, in your adolescence, and now. Hopefully they’re not the same, and hopefully you’re not the person you were when you were eight years old.

Let me expand: as a child, my parents told me to drink milk, so I drank milk. This is normal for growing children in need of calcium and vitamin D, especially obedient children of Asian parents who fear consequences. So when I found myself with the autonomy to order my own beverage at a restaurant for the first time, I was so unprepared that I ordered a glass of milk.

I happened to have ordered this glass of milk at a certain restaurant in Savannah, Georgia, which was apparently frequented by a very accurate Jack Sparrow impersonator. I was there with my Girl Scout troop. I was eleven.

At one point, Fake Jack Sparrow came to my troop’s table and began entertaining us in a manner that would mollify, well, Jack Sparrow. Such manners apparently included making fun of children who order glasses of milk alongside their burgers and fries. I can still remember the succinct, yet deadly words that he spoke to me: “Milk? Really?”

Even as I write this approaching 23, I still take offense. I was an eleven-year-old Girl Scout. Of course I was going to order fucking milk, you ghoul. I hope you remember that moment forever. I hope the image of my shocked, innocent, young face continues to pierce your consciousness and gnaw at your bones. Go take a shower.

Sorry- that’s not the point. What matters is that from that day on, I never ordered milk at a restaurant again. I swore that I would never show my weakness in such an obvious way. I would erase this vulnerability to Jack Sparrow impersonators. No longer was I the eleven-year-old Girl Scout who ordered milk at restaurants. Now, I was the eleven-year-old Girl Scout… uh, period. I had changed.

This is an example, albeit very rapid and direct, of how personal change influences your food tastes. A more relatable example could be how children dislike vegetables, but as they age into adulthood, they understand the need to eat them. Yeah, opening with that makes more sense. I’ll do that next time.

Okay, I’ll Get To The Point

It was sometime in the spring semester of my sophomore year that I began to get upset with matcha lattes. They’re great, don’t get me wrong - but after a while, you start to detest the viscosity of the liquid and the grotesque way they’ve been Americanized to fit western tastes. You crave something a little bit more honest that will give you the same kick and satisfaction of a slightly abnormal coffee shop order. (Keep in mind that you were never the type to expand past milk/juice/water growing up. Your idea of a “slightly abnormal coffee shop order” is not abnormal to most people. You drank milk. Recreationally.)

So, one summer day at one of the three campus Starbucks, after a particularly hectic morning of research work, you decide to order coffee… but with a twist. You add a shot of hazelnut syrup and a splash of soymilk, because why the fuck not!!! You’re 20 and in Los Angeles! Life Is Freedom - oh shit, this coffee is actually pretty good, you wouldn’t mind ordering it again.

Many a time since then, I’ve found myself wanting to indulge in the little joy of hazelnut coffee - especially when such times roughen up. Life sucks, so take advantage of your agency in this pummeled existence and get a hazelnut coffee! It’s a bit consumerist of a motto, but what can I say - you can’t devote 100% of yourself to everything all the time, so make sure to find those moments where you can ease the pain a little bit. I need the little joys. I get the hazelnut coffee. It’s okay to create these little joys for yourself - and remember, as with all good food, ingest them in moderation.

Self care is just as important as working hard.

- a paraphrase of maybe a thousand things along those lines that I heard while in game design school

For a chronicle of every single time I ordered hazelnut coffee pre-pandemic, go here. Note that I began my journey with mostly hazelnut lattes, because I knew no better. Since then, I have matured enough financially and mentally to transition to the aforementioned coffee with hazelnut syrup and soymilk. Remember, taste reflects change!

Um, What About The Coffee Cake

Honestly, I think this post is getting too long, so I’ll talk about the coffee cake later. The greater statement I have to make through a coffee cake metaphor will come to you… another time.

Thanks for reading!