A rainbow of fancy drinks is flooding the streets of Toronto. One might be a vibrant grassy green with a layer of juicy fuchsia compote at the bottom; another sky-blue and milky, with floating islands of raspberry-flavoured pearls; yet another is a creamy espresso hue with streaks of artisanal cashew butter. These to-go beverages that cost five times a Tim Hortons double double are everywhere — and they’ve achieved ubiquity during a time when more of us are struggling to pay our bills. Is this “I deserve a little treat” culture on overdrive?
Angela Yan, owner of Toronto’s Matcha Haus, says people’s willingness to drop $10 on a special drink is actually because of strained financial times. “I think it’s easier now to meet up for a little matcha or coffee date, which is considered a smaller luxury than a full-fledged meal that can cost much more,” says Yan, who opened the Bathurst Street café in June.
Call it the new lipstick index: that economic theory suggests that sales of affordable luxury items like lipstick tend to increase during times of economic hardship. So that $10 tea latte or $20 crimson lipstick is about more than frivolity — it’s a feel-good escape from the reality of the present moment.
Yan’s customers indulge in drinks like an iced strawberry yuzu and a banana-bread matcha that went viral this past summer. The Matcha House philosophy is grounded in style and substance: drinks are crafted with ingredients made in-house, like banana syrup and vegan cold foam, and use the highest grade matcha sourced directly from a farm in Japan, according to Yan. “I’d say the most high-value drink is the double pistachio at $9.50,” says Yan, adding that the premium ingredients impact the cost: “We use pure 100 per cent pistachio paste from Italy, real strawberries, real bananas, real pandan leaves.”
These days, many of the specialty drinks propped in the hands of Torontonians have an Asian flair, like matcha lattes and soon-to-be-everywhere hojicha lattes, from two Japanese green teas whose key difference is that matcha is shade-grown tea while hojicha is roasted. Still others appear to exist mostly for the sake of Instagram (and sweet tooths), such as those from chains like Starbucks and even McDonalds, who are dabbling in the frothy, iPhone-album-worthy fun. These restaurants both had summer drinks on offer that could have been mistaken for a 1970s Blue Lagoon cocktail, minus the maraschino cherry garnish, like Starbucks’ Summer Skies refresher and Mt. McDonaldland Shake.
The rise of double-digit takeout beverages follows the status smoothie explosion, which found their fullest expression in the $20 (U.S.) health-forward drinks at trendy luxury grocer Erewhon several years ago. During an L.A. trip, I tried the viral Hailey Bieber Strawberry Glaze Skin Smoothie — a collab with the recent cosmetics billionaire and wife of Justin — with fellow journalist Renée Tse. With the exchange rate, the creamy pink drink rang in at an eye-watering $28 CAD. Chatting for this story, Tse, an editor with a robust social media following, reminded me of the moment that really crystallized the absurdity of these designer smoothies. While waiting to order our glorified slushies, Tse asked me what the heck sea moss gel (a key ingredient) was. I joked that the smoothie also contained dolphin tears. “Really?!” she replied. No, not really, but it went to show how ludicrous the status smoothie had become.
Today, Tse says her willingness to drop $8 or more on a specialty coffee is all about nostalgia: She frequents % Arabica, a Kyoto-founded chain: “It’s not because the coffee is fancy, but because I first had it in Japan. Before Arabica came to Canada, if there was a city that had one, I would get one as a treat. Now, it reminds me of my time in Japan or L.A.”
“Sure, it’s an $8 to $10 drink,” says Tse. but it’s all about the small joys.”
