The Story of the Whynatte

The story begins in Santa Cruz, CA. The year is 2004, and I’m on vacation with Andy, visiting a few of my old college friends in Santa Cruz, CA.

As one is apt to do when visiting old friends from college, especially those from the University of California school system, we ended up going out and getting all liquored up.

Andy, Wyatt, Katie, and myself were up extremely late that night, hitting the bars, and imbibing on a variety of different liquor drinks. We painted the town the colors of a box of Crayolas. Some of us wore sport coats, all of us sang off key. Needless to say, we woke up the next morning feeling as though we had been attacked with dull hatchets.

Wyatt has a tradition of starting his morning with a hot latte, and this morning was no different. Or so we thought…It turns out that this morning would be different than all that had come before it.

In typical fashion, Wyatt prepared his morning latte. Never the selfish type, Wyatt came into the living room, where Andy and I marinated in our hangovers. The smell of warm drunken death was in the air.

Wyatt: “Do either of you want a latte?”
Andy: “Sure”
Myself: “Sure”

At this point, I realized that I was on vacation, and I also realized that it was already time to start drinking again. I looked over to Andy, and I could tell that he was thinking the same thing. It just seemed too early for a beer, and we did not have the proper ingredients for a bloody mary. Quite the conundrum. Katie looked on with a strident air of discontent, as if to say, “what are you morons about to do?”. The conversation proceeded:

Andy: “I wonder what it would taste like if you dropped an ice cold Jager shot into a latte?”
Me: “It would probably be delicious”
Me to Wyatt: “Wyatt, how much would you pay me to drop an ice cold Jager shot into that piping hot latte, and then pound it?”
Wyatt: “Are you kidding me, why would you do that?”
Me: “Why natte?”

Wyatt took the cold shot of Jager from my outreached claw, dropped it into his fresh latte, and pounded it like he was pounding an abalone. In that minute, a legend was born. It did not taste good; it tasted flat out incredible.

The taste sensation that is the Whynatte cannot truly be described in words; it transcends all adjectives in the English language. Over the course of the past 4 years, the Whynatte has steadily grown in popularity, and is now served in bars across the country. We encourage you to join the growing Whynatte movement, and share one with someone that you love.