My Yerba Mate search remained unfruitful for the duration of my voyage into the mean streets of New York. The Mate search was so unfruitful in fact, that I happened across a tea shop in Midtown (presumably specializing in exotic teas) that had no hot Yerba Mate for sale. I could buy it in bulk, but I couldn't buy a cup to go.
Just when I had lost all hope, Daniel, Ashley and I found a small coffee stand located in a market in the Lower East Side. I asked, probably for the tenth time in four days, if they carried Yerba Mate tea and, to my surprise, the barista dug through the contents of a shelf behind him and pulled out a silver canister labeled "Yerba Mate".
I was so excited that I contemplated dropping to my knees and praising the barista but, assuming I would cross some cultural norm I decided against it. Instead, I baraded him with Mate facts and recommended he display the tea more prominently. He confessed that customers were always asking him for Mate and that he was just thinking about how to make a place for it on his front counter.
"Thanks so much," I said as I walked away, hot cup of Yerba Mate in hand. Maybe I could live in New York after all.
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About Me
- A. Dominic Efferson
- After a five year career in journalism Dominic has moved into the non-profit industry. He specifically works in marketing and is adamant about the expansion of quality skateparks and recycling centers.
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