Istanbul Orchids and Other Happy Things

Much of the beauty of a new spring is missed in cursing a winter that has already passed. Somehow shades of lilac and green are muted by the memory of abysmal gray mornings and frostbitten hands, and only when the scorching sun has dried up every remnant of the rhododendron do we recall that forsaking spring to seek revenge on winter amounts to nothing at all. This is all to say that I made a conscious effort to notice the wonderful hot chocolates that surrounded me amidst the end of a gruelling academic year. I refused to eschew the beauty before my taste buds.

Rather than reflecting on the misfortune that microeconomic analysis made manifest for me, and rather than disparaging John Nash’s name and his horrid theories until the end of time, I chose to see the shades of spring by returning to my favourite place: Koko Monk Hot Chocolate Lounge. For this visit, I chose to try the “Istanbul Blues”, a dark hot chocolate infused with cinnamon and salep, which is a flour made from the tubers of Ottoman orchids. Sipping this drink in the sunshine was the slipknot tethering me to sanity. Unsurprisingly, given this establishment’s gleaming record of excellent cocoa, I was immensely pleased with this concoction.

This drink had a deep, autumnal flavour that reminded me of the spirit of the November rain. The scent of the cinnamon was particularly strong, drawing my mind’s eye to relaxing fireplaces that light up cloudy and cold days. Koko Monk is known for her excellent chocolate flavour; sweet, fruity, and roasted perfectly, I found that the cocoa flavour balanced well with the spiciness. I was surprised by the thinness of the hot chocolate, as most of its sister creations are remarkably viscous. However, I found that the lightness of the texture laid an excellent foundation for delicate notes of spring flavours like the infused salep. I must also remark that I have never tasted a hot chocolate with such a perfect level of sweetness. Not a single flavour was overshadowed by some obnoxious sugar grain, and yet there was not a single note of unpleasant bitterness.

Unfortunately, the salep flavour was a shy actress. I wish we had seen more of her, but she lay chiefly in concentrated dregs at the bottom of the glass. Undoubtedly, a better incorporation strategy is required. Furthermore, the shards of salep and cinnamon were not particularly pleasant to swallow. As is my common critique of Koko Monk hot chocolates, some sort of filtration is imperative.

Still, the salep was a most intriguing addition, and it got me daydreaming of possible variants. As it is the season of greenery, I believe this flavour would pair well with mint for a garden party hot chocolate. Perhaps this shall be this House’s summertime diversion. In the meanwhile, I shall enjoy the dawn of spring with a hot chocolate well-deserving of a place in the heavenly tier.