The Soy Chai Latte

Lunch today with a man who is hard to categorise.  He had eggs. The Tummy still being not too keen on solid foods, I decided on the oft-scorned “Soy Chai Latte”.

“Soy” “Chai” “Latte”. Three words that even in themselves inspire contempt - the environmentally problematic processes involved in soy milk production, the shameless mimicking of India's national drink being a colonialist aberration up there with golliwogs, and don’t get me started on the Marxist take on milky coffees. Put the three together, you have pure liquid derision.

But glorious liquid derision at that. Sweet and creamy, yet slightly nutty, soy milk, tinged with a hint of ginger and cardamom, and topped with a little frothy hat to be spooned off and savoured dollop by dollop. I think breast milk must have tasted something like a Soy Chai Latte.

Not only that, there is something warm and fuzzy about the culinary concepts of soybeans (largely used in Japanese cooking), Chai (Hindi for ‘tea’) and the Italian “café latte” uniting in my mug this way. Its not offensive, it’s a tribute to multiculturalism, an emblem of tolerance to be held forth as a guiding light for Australian society.

Yes, I know it is made with syrup that is more likely constructed by a factory worker in Packenham than spices ground by Rajasthani farmgirls. Yes, I know that chai-wallahs don’t carry around milk frothers. And yes, I know its not “real chai”, as themfolks who frequent the Chai Tent at Confest and St Andrews Market will testify.

I know this because I’ve drunk “real chai” and it is nothing like my Soy Chai Latte. The equal quantities sugar and week-old tealeaves, the ass-end of a knob of ginger ground between rocks and thrown in a pot with milk that has been in the sun all day and a sprinkle of dirt to give the colour that the tealeaves won’t. “Real chai”, drunk from clay pots that you smash on the ground once you have finished, serves a time and place. That place is India and the time is after a five hour bus-ride with a family of twenty and their chickens, to give energy after a bout of dysentery or to calm nerves after another run-in with a Saddhu who wants to feel your aura (and is pretty sure it is located right under that there bra).

In Varanasi, they don’t use soymilk, they don’t use honey, and they sure don’t recycle the cups. That is “real chai”.

I’m not saying that “real chai”, a “Soy Chai Latte”, or “Cushions-and-dreadlocks chai” can’t be delicious. I’m simply saying that sometimes it can be futile to apply labels and make judgments, and it can be nice just to enjoy the unique beverage in front of you for what it is.

Comments

[Mel]

Tonight I went to an "Asian Vietnamese and Malaysian" restaurant and had a dish called "Beef Satay Noodles" that was halfway between a soup and a stirfry and contained pineapple. There was something shonky about it, but I quite enjoyed it.

[catonthebench]

Hmmm . . . I'm not sure if that counts as a celebration of the unclassifiable or just a mistake - isn't the sign of failed stirfry when it goes soggy (and the sign of a failed soup when it is still crunchy)? But if it made your tummy happy, that's all that counts :)

[Rubydot]

Good on you. This whole search for authentic food, while laudable in itself, is often an incarnation of food snobbery, and sometimes ignores the fact that imitation food can actually taste very, very nice in its own right.

[AugustusGloop]

LOL. Hilarious post! I hear your sentiments, but I too, can envision the deliciousness.

[kylie]

Chai is the perfect drink for us non-coffee types. I prefer it with cow's milk, as I find the soy flavour too strong and it overtakes the flavour from the spices and tea. I agree it's almost impossible to find any cafe that can make a good chai. The syrup is yuck and the chai tea bag is just as bad. I wish cafes would make the effort to make it from scratch. There is a lot of effort gone to for coffee drinkers to have their perfect brew, so why not for tea? And while I'm on the topic, why is it cafes feel like they can charge tea drinkers $3 or more for a tea bag dunked in hot water? They wouldn't dare serve instant coffee to coffee drinkers (or at least not in Melbourne)!