The Ode to my 90s is inspired by Rachel’s childhood memories of having black sesame treats at her grandmother’s home. It’s been their bestselling drink since Oct. 2024, and for good reason.
Photo by Mahika Kukday | The Crow’s Nest
By Mahika Kukday
If you’ve ever worked in a commercial kitchen, can you recall a dish that was so good you wanted to declare it sold out and keep it for yourself?
Mine was black sesame ice cream.
Two years ago, I was a stagiaire – kitchen intern – at the Hoxton hotel in Paris. I was part of the service team, which meant I scooped that black sesame ice cream for nights in a row, sending it to innocent customers who had no idea of the wonders that were about to hit them.
Photo by Mahika Kukday | The Crow’s Nest
It was a gorgeous symphony of toasty, nutty, creamy flavors. I claimed it. “Black sesame will be my new thing.” When people inevitably ask about the niche tastes I developed while attending culinary school in Paris, I will casually say, “have you ever tried black sesame in a dessert?”
And I’ll get a good grade in being the mysterious French culinary school girl.
Black sesame.
So, imagine my eccentric – and frankly, manic – joy when a specialty coffee shop opened up minutes from where I live, with a black sesame latte on the menu.
When Daycation Coffee debuted on Dr. M.L.K street, I covered the opening.
You won’t see me writing about them again, because I’ve developed a glaring bias on the matter. I think Daycation is the single greatest thing to happen to St. Pete’s food and beverage scene in a long time.
One of owner Rachel Zhang’s five signature drinks is the “Ode to my 90s.” It’s a short- iced latte with a salted black sesame cream topped with two tiny dehydrated date slices.
There are so many things that are right about this drink.
First of all, the 12 oz size is great for actually being able to taste the double shot of espresso – a frustrating rarity in the United States. A standard latte size is 8 oz. Twelve is perfectly fine for iced drinks in my opinion, but when coffee shops offer me 16 oz and 20 oz cups, it makes me want to run away screaming for my mommy.
At that point, it’s a $10 cup of milk.
Secondly, the black sesame cold foam is a true masterpiece. It’s got an addictive roasted, salty, sweet flavor and a luscious mouthfeel. I can tell it’s been developed well because it’s stable and doesn’t immediately disappear into the drink. And perhaps most significantly, it’s a welcome departure from the espresso-syrup-milk format.
While I love a good pump of Monin syrup as much as the next gal, it’s exciting to see creative ways of incorporating flavors in coffee.
I arrived back to St. Pete on Jan. 9 after three straight weeks of eating the most delicious food known to man, being surrounded by hundreds of people at any given moment and shaking my head around in every direction instead of just nodding yes or no. Clarification: I was in India. The motherland!
My first stop after getting back to the ‘Burg was of course, Daycation. I hugged Rachel, who has become a good friend, and settled in to the window-side high chairs with my familiar black sesame latte.
Anyone who’s moved abroad will understand the feeling. The eerie, cold realization of leaving your home country after a visit. Because it doesn’t fully feel like home anymore, and why is it that this black sesame latte suddenly does? Why are both places so wholly comforting and simultaneously so jarringly foreign?
These were the thoughts running through my mind as I sipped my latte and stared into the grey Sunshine City sky from inside the coffee shop.
I was standing on the precipice of my last semester of university, frozen in a moment with no pressure, no responsibility and no deadlines.
Classes hadn’t begun. Canvas hadn’t yet reared its ugly head. LinkedIn hadn’t become my most frequently visited website (truly, what a sad state of affairs).
And yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about the immense meaning that the last semester of undergrad held.
I’m an international student, which means guilt, homesickness and crippling ambition hold permanent territory in my brain. Unfortunately, I also absolutely adore my college and almost everyone I’ve met here, so it’s tough to look at them without constantly thinking about how we’re probably going to be in different cities, countries and continents in four short months.
Find a job. Enjoy your youth. Submit the assignment. Call your grandmom. Tick tock.
But the job has to be worth moving across the world for. But don’t enjoy so much that you lose focus. But don’t forget that you’ll never get the college experience back. But make sure to spend time with the people right in front of you. Tick tock.
I’ve done this a couple times already. Moving across the world, building a life, saying goodbye and doing it all over again on a whole new piece of Earth rock. It’s the greatest privilege.
But God, the ticking clock is not fun.
So, I finished my black sesame latte and realized that at only 22 years old, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the end of my college career meant the death of my most carefree years.
Am I doomed to a life of leaving trite compliments on acquaintances’ LinkedIn’s?
I guess we’ll find out. And if my youth will die at the end of the semester, at least the funeral will be epic. Graduation gowns and reminiscing.
But I think I’ll be fine. You will soon find that I’m optimistic to a fault. And I hope you’ll join me here while I share my favorite meals, unwanted opinions and life experiences.
This is Small Bites.
