I do like a college town, but the time had come to take a break from preppies and hipsters, so I ambled over to foreign-studentville. Bubblecup boba tea caught my eye about a week ago, and despite it being next door to a local ice cream legend, I did it anyway.
BubbleCup? Or is it LolliCup as is printed on the Fire Department certificate on the wall? Hmm …
Ha … this place is authentico, or whatever the word is in Mandarin. I spoke briefly with the manager who is from The Republic of China. She was proud to tell me where boba originated in the orient, and said the word translates as “pearl.” I told her, for me, boba originated in Berkeley 2004, at which time I tried, loved and also Googled the word and according to the Internet of teas, it also means “nipple.”
Long story short, boba is a cup of tea that is loaded at the bottom with a handful of dark brown tapioca balls, about a .38 caliber, I would say.
So, we had a cultural difference, but not an impasse. I ordered up a mango tea boba, but to my chagrin, it was not a milk/juice boba. They served me a mango tea, unfortunately with a nasty artificial sweetener in the tea. Bleh. But, I travel tough and thought I could just make lemonade of the lemon so to speak. I asked for them to add milk. They asked “coconut milk?” I am flexible. “Sure, coconut will be fine.”
“Sorry. We cannot add milk,” I was told in newly learned but impressive English.
Ha … Why? … Is it gonna “splode?”
I offered to pay more, guessing the price difference was the issue.
I thought maybe I would just reorder and repay … to get what I wanted … ’twas a learning experience.
Finally, they were able to convey through my thick skull that they were just worried about how the new mixture would taste. I told them “Let’s risk it.” … And after several apologies, they made this custom drink. It rocked.
Cool … a few more ultra-polite pleasantries and they brought me a sample of what they said was the original boba tea … very rich and earthy — love, love.
Artist’s Rendering
A newspaper article on the wall informed me that one of the two co-owners (back in Taiwan) is named Shu-Ping. I knew I liked this place. Such a great location on Ninth in Columbia … going on six years now. The place is painted in bright fruity flavors except for one corner, where the wall is finished out with 4-inch hardwood slats, and filled in with daubing*
So … about the Wi-Fi here at this shiny little pearl cafe? Excellent. The password was pasted on the cash register, just to make sure nothing was lost in translation. I hopped on board quickly, and no complaints. At this Wi-Fi hotspot, I was even successful streaming some Pandora music, which would be impossible at some of the other clogged hotspots here on the college strip.
On Pandora, I opted for the Jayhawks channel, but decided from now on I will add some reggae flair and call it the JahHawks channel … I digress …
I grabbed a high-back easy chair under a generous ceiling fan, found an electrical outlet about a foot away … and off we went.
Wrote a quick blog too. The Wi-Fi at Bublecup Boba … Nice … 6 pings
As for their ambiguous naming process — I think they missed a great opportunity when they didn’t choose Boba Mizzou. Got a ring to it.
Know what I sayin?
* Daubing … a word I learned, working on log cabins in Montana on a recent Dirty Gig.
