If you’re not living in or touring India, chances are you are drinking a powdered version of this spiced milk tea, or even a bastardized chai/coffee hybrid. For instance, I just discovered that a dirty chai doesn’t involve extra olive juice, but a shot of espresso. Uh...
But it’s not just the chai itself. It’s the knobs who drink it. Somehow sipping on this strange brew, these exotic creatures feel enlightened and superior, much like I imagine Tom Cruise and his Scientology cronies feel after a good L. Ron Hubbard jamboree. Doctoring up their chai with a dollop of soy milk and a soupçon of cardamom, these wannabe Siddharthas eat, pray, and love throwing the stinkeye at my mocha choca latte and silently judging, all the while saying crap like “namaste, my friend” to my face while reaching for their heart center.
I want to punch these nirvana in a coffee cup-seeking sultans of swill in their third eye, until they're blind.
(I must admit that I do love this DIY chai recipe, if only for the illustration).