The Pumpkin Spice drinks might the most popular seasonal beverages - hot or cold - at Starbucks and there are more than a few people who mark their calendars with the release date every fall, but their two more Christmas-y drinks - the gingerbread and the eggnog lattes - deserve their time in the spotlight, too. Especially since those flavors are popping up at other coffee houses. The gingerbread latte is made with a spicy gingerbread syrup that is blended into a regular latte and topped, if desired, with whipped cream. The eggnog latte is a bit different and is made with real eggnog, which is mixed with a bit of regular milk (whole, nonfat, etc) and steamed as usual. You might not expect eggnog and coffee to go well together, but the combination is actually quite good. Especially if you know a barista that will a little something "extra" to the eggnog lattes on Christmas Eve (not that that would ever happen or anything...).

Gingerbread is my favorite, as the spices are both warming and satisfying. Which do you prefer - or do you skip those typically seasonal flavors in favor of the peppermint mocha?

Just for the holiday season Dunkin' Donuts is introducing Gingerbread Latte (not that they might have gotten the idea from another coffee shop), a new drink in their espresso based line up. I'm not one of those folks who usually like the fancy coffee drinks. I had my fill when I lived in Seattle during grad school. There was an espresso cart on every street corner and a cafe on every block. I started to get pretty damn jittery as I tried all the flavor combinations and finally had the shivers and shakes so bad I had to go cold turkey. Nowadays I like my coffee in small doses. An occasional espresso after a meal or a thick and cardamom laced Turkish style coffee. Although that Gingerbread Latte does sound pretty tasty , what with those ginger, spice, and caramel flavors in addition to espresso. Of course if you don't feel like running out to Dunkin' for your gingerbread latte fix, or get pining for one after the holiday season is over, you can follow this recipe and make it at home.

To be successful like Starbucks you have to think like a Starbucks. They've created a revolution in the way coffee is perceived in the context of our culture, and in a world where "public space" is vanishing, they provide a nice hang out for everyone who can't get into bars. They're a part of modern life, along with laptops and cell phones. The way the get you to pay $6 for a cup of coffee, milk and cocoa powder is genius. I do it, you probably do it, and we secretly LOVE to pay that much. Let's face it, you could make this stuff yourself (if you don't mind doing without steamed milk) but you don't because damnit, you've earned an expensive hot frothy, sugary.... ahhhhh (in Homer Simpson voice).

I noticed whenever I ask my boss if he wants anything from the bagel shop he jumps up and excitedly asks for a latte; he asks in such a way that I wonder if he knows what a latte even is (he asks for it in an excited way as if he's asking for a hot fudge sundae with five scoops of ice cream). I needed to find out what a latte was so I could quietly judge him for his newfound passion. According to the Heine Brothers, the difference between a latte and a cappucino is purely in the "foam" of the milk and the amount thereof; i.e. where it is in relation to the espresso in question. A cappuccino is supposed to have foam at the top; a thick carpet of foam so that you can't see the espresso and steamed milk below. The foam blanket makes it very difficult to "sip" the underlying liquid and the result, invariably, is you keep tipping the cup up, thinking "where is it?" then, wham, the liquid bursts forth onto your sensitive upper lip. Luckily the foam is there to comfort and console the burn. So you have a burnt lip with milk foam on it. Whose idea of a good time is that? The Italians, of course!

Nina Lalli from the Village Voice says that the flavored coffee movement has, by and large, passed her by. One day she wakes up, smells the Starbucks Gingerbread Latte, and wonders, "Am I the weird one? Is my "small coffee with milk—no sugar" a sign of my utter party-pooperness?"

In a world where every coffee establishment competes to offer more and better, and more oddly-colored, Christmas blends, flavors and sweet additions, is it bah-Humbug-ism at its worst to pass all this by for a regular, ordinary coffee with milk?