We're pathologically social. We're professional leisurists. We're burrito lovers, bar flies, art whores and music nerds. We dish the good dirt, and we'll risk a parking ticket for a cheap sample sale. Sometimes, we blog drunk.
Warning: Tiny, tiny balls...
Boba has taken on this kind of weird proxy status in my food life. Because I just recently realized that when I say I crave "boba," I'm hardly craving the actual gummy, gelatinous globes of tapioca. Those things get really tiring to eat...and digest later on. What I really want is the excuse to drink cold caffeinated anything at 11 pm. In fact, after witnessing a friend request exactly five boba balls with her iced coffee, I adopted the same embarassing display of specificity.
Of course, I couldn't have been happier when I discovered that my local Tapioca Express is now offering mini boba balls. (Okay, I know I'm late to this party, so please, no comments about "where have I been?" Well, given that the poor food blog has yet to get a single comment, I guess beggars can't be demanding. But still...)
Seriously, these things are tiny, tiny. And they provide the exact opposite experience from traditional boba drinking which requires a magnum straw, the better to see each dark ball amble up methodically to your mouth. These mini little buggers come shooting at you so shockingly quick, straw diameter be damned.
No wonder they felt it wise to stamp a new disclaimer onto the plastic cup.
Did you catch that? What, that was too tiny? "Please drink carefully to avoid choking on the Boba" (emphasis mine).
Consider your gag reflex warned.
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