In last week’s blog post, A Cup, A Cup, A Cup, A Cup of Sodium Caseinate I detailed my disgust and disappointment with a tasteless bottle of chemicals masquerading as Pumpkin Spice coffee creamer. Although you don’t have to have read that post before this one, you won’t want to miss the clever writing and laugh-out-loud hilarity contained therein. So go on back and check it out. Don’t worry. We’ll wait.
My sister-in-law Lisa, and talented artist Jean at Snoring Dog Studios both urged me not to give up on the whole galaxy of pumpkin coffees until I tried Starbucks’ pumpkin latte. They raved, and I was intrigued.
Saturday I drove 1-1/2 hours up to Chicago, for no other reason than to try the pumpkin latte. Well, I might have done a few other things as well, like…
- Tour the beautifully restored, 100-year-old Monroe Building
- Stroll through the Chicago Cultural Center and admire the architecture, views and Tiffany stained glass windows
- People watch in the sunshine over lunch in Millennium Park
- Shop, shop and shop at Filene’s Basement, Nordstrom’s Rack, Marshall Fields/Macys, etc, etc, etc.
- It seemed all walks of life and just about every country on earth were admiring their reflections in the bean at Millennium Park. I saw a group of 7 Buddhist monks, and no less than 5 wedding parties there. I can report that navy blue seems to be the hot color this fall. For bridesmaids, that is. The monks were sticking with saffron.
As the sun set, it was time to get out of Dodge (meaning Chicago). I stopped at Starbucks for the promised pumpkin latte before heading to my car. I exhorted the barrista to make it as skinny as possible, since I’m trying to get my body that way. The two amply padded counter girls tried to talk me into the whipped cream, but I remained firm.
My verdict? Drum roll please…I give it Peg-o-leg’s highest rating:
It was definitely worth the trouble, and the almost $4 price tag as a special splurge. This experience has taught me an important lesson in trying new things. And, equally important, that I should never again approach the shoe department at Nordstrom’s Rack without leaving my credit card at home.