La Colombe Draft Lattes Are So Frothy and I'm So Happy

I love lattes and I love iced coffee, but it always made me mad when I would order an iced latte and watch the barista pour cold, un-frothed milk over a shot of iced espresso. Yes, the ingredients are correct—espresso, milk, ice—but to my mind, it wasn’t an iced latte without the foam. Thanks to the nonexistent logic of espresso bar menu pricing, a latte usually costs more than an iced espresso with milk, so I saved some money and my sanity and started ordering iced espressos instead.

For a few years, I curbed my self-righteous iced latte rage by sticking to this strategy, pretty much convinced that the proper iced latte of my dreams simply didn’t exist. And then, one day, our friends at La Marzocco* donated a Linea Mini espresso machine to the Bon Appétit test kitchen, at which time I stopped ordering espresso drinks altogether and became my own personal barista. Thus empowered, I started doing what I thought every barista should do: I would brew an espresso and pour it over ice, then lightly steam whole milk until it was foamy but not super hot, and use that to make the latte an actual latte. Yes, this concoction becomes slightly diluted by the ice, but there is always more ice to be had. When greeted with skepticism by my colleagues, I argued that the flavor of steamed milk is different, and that the texture and taste of the foam was key to my drinking enjoyment.

*This isn't a sponsored post!

Well, folks, turns out that the real coffee experts at La Colombe agree with me, and there’s nothing I love more than being vindicated by people who actually know what they’re talking about.

The head honchos at La Colombe had also been stymied by the challenge of serving a cold, undiluted espresso drink with all the richness and fluffiness of foamed milk on top. But instead of pulling their hair out in annoyance that our world is plagued by a never-ending stream of unfixable problems, they did something about it. The iced latte conundrum led to the invention of the draft latte, which they poured from a tap at the bar. It emerges cold and creamy, the color of melted coffee ice cream (the best color) and is crowned with a tall head of buoyant, ethereal foam made up of tiny little bubbles that percolate to the surface in a slow-mo dream. Because there’s no ice, there are no cold cubes to interfere with the aerated, silky texture, and no watering down of anything. The first time I had one I nearly fainted with joy. A thing that annoyed me had been replaced by something that thrilled and delighted me.

I continued treating myself to these expertly crafted draft lattes when I would find myself within striking distance of a La Colombe outfit, and because I live in New York City, this happened just often enough to keep me satisfied without overdoing it. Then, one magical day this spring, I was wandering around a Whole Foods market in Palm Springs, of all places, and there on the shelf in the refrigerator section was a line-up of La Colombe Draft Coffee slim cans. Again, I nearly fainted. Since I was in a distant land with no access to my trusty test kitchen espresso machine, I figured this was a justified $2.99 purchase indeed. I deserved it. Though, I’ll be honest: I didn’t expect the canned version to be very good. It’s like the movie version of the book you loved. It will probably suck, but you should give it a try anyway.

At this point in the story, I realize that I am a pessimist, and also that it’s true when people say that a pessimist is never disappointed. Because, friends—the contents of that can were stupendous. The beverage was excellent. I was vindicated once more. I’m not a scientist, but from what I have gathered, there’s a pressurized valve on the bottom of the cans that releases liquefied gas into the latte when you crack open the tab, and what emerges is maybe not quite as luscious and velvety as what you get at the café, but it’s pretty damn close.

When I returned to the Palm Springs airport at the end of my trip, there was a can of draft latte in the rental car’s cup holder beside me. And when I stopped by the La Colombe cafe in SoHo one day soon thereafter for a pick-me-up before work, there was an entire refrigerator display filled to the brim with La Colombe cans of all varieties. Alt milks! Mocha flavored! The SKUs were exploding.

By now, I’ve had a chance to try a few different flavors, and my new thing is combining two types for the ultimate coffee-to-milk ratio: 50/50 between true black (their unadulterated cold brew), and draft latte, which is a little bit milkier than it needs to be. The triple draft is also excellent, but who am I to say? Just some persnickety lady who likes her cold coffee creations a certain way. As long as there are coffee companies out there reading my mind and solving my problems via ESP and other methods, I have a feeling I'll be fine.