One of the more disturbing developments of my 20s has been the revelation that my generation, at least in the eyes of every other generation, is a bunch of dorks.
“Gen Z-ers are ditching sex,” read a recent New York Times headline. “Gen Z’s ‘retirement-maxxers’ choose savings over doom spending,” penned Bloomberg. By contrast, the discovery unearthed in Yahoo that “Gen Z changed its mind about crew socks” struck me as a rather radical development.
I suppose think pieces like these are just what happens to your generation when it comes of age. So while I do wish Gen Z came across a bit less dweebish, I must acknowledge the good things we’ve created, like:
The next dish you should try in Indy
I first encountered the term “fridge cigarette” on social media around this time last year and absentmindedly filed it away with the other dozen or so new colloquialisms the internet blasts into my brain every week. But either because of its staying power or because the modern internet is an endlessly recycling void of digital detritus, the evocatively named beverage once again crossed my timeline this summer. And, wouldn’t you know it, now I can finally have one at Three Dolls and Co. just outside downtown in Fountain Square.
When the term fridge cigarette first arose last year, it was nothing more than slang for a Diet Coke, a stimulating workday pick-me-up to stand in for the smoke breaks of old. Since the term’s emergence on TikTok and other platforms, a number of businesses have capitalized on the meme with their own dressed-up fridge cigs. Three Dolls’ rendition ($5) features full-sugar Coca-Cola, espresso, vanilla syrup, cherry foam and a surprise maraschino cherry that sank to the bottom of my drink like a ruby-red bit of edible treasure.
Cherry and vanilla are a classic pairing with Coke – cola itself usually contains some amount of vanilla – and whatever edge Three Dolls’ beverage loses with the inclusion of creamy cold foam is somewhat counterbalanced by the shot of espresso. And though I feared a drink chiefly comprised of concentrated coffee and a grab bag of sweeteners would trigger something akin to gastrointestinal brake failure inside me, I navigated the day with minimal tummy troubles after downing the elixir.
While using original-recipe Coca-Cola is a clear departure from the aspartame-laced source material, for culinary purposes I actually think full-sugar soda is the way to go here. Cola is a taste profile with which most of us are somewhat acquainted; we use it to flavor candies; Korean American families use it as a tenderizer and sweetener in bulgogi; the Spanish at one point had the flash of genius to combine it with red wine to form the kalimotxo, and so on. Diet Coke, as anyone who has drunk as much of it as I have knows, tastes like nothing else in the known universe.
Catchy name aside, the fridge cig is only a few degrees removed from the much more common coffee soda, crisp and refreshing and plenty sweet but not cloying. What truly captivates me about this specific drink is how distinctly Gen Z it feels.
The term rose to virality on TikTok, my generation’s one-stop shop for news, humor, fashion, bad-faith discourse and dubiously backed fitness supplements. That coffee shops around the country have added a “fridge cigarette” to their menus suggests Gen Z has managed to accumulate that elusive resource known as purchasing power. And if we are truly a stunted generation that defangs real-world experiences in favor of more comfortable alternatives, then perhaps there is no better culinary representative than a fizzy drink named for the world’s most famous carcinogen.
Of course, trying to define an entire generation via beverage is a bit farcical. Sure, drinking a pink-capped coffee soda may not carry the cachet of stepping out to rip through a few Marlboro Reds, but Gen Z probably already has enough vices as is. There’s no reason joining the bandwagon with Three Dolls’ charming, easy-drinking adaptation should make me feel uncool.
Just can’t have one too late in the day. I have my bedtime to think about.
What: Fridge cig, available most days for $5
Where: Three Dolls and Co., 1008 E. Washington St., (463) 388-1889, threedolls-café-cakery.square.site
In case that’s not your thing: Three Dolls’ daily menu features familiar café fare such as breakfast sandwiches ($8), biscuits and gravy ($9), chicken sandwiches and cheeseburgers ($14) as well as a rotating selection of soups ($5), plus a robust coffee and espresso menu. That said, the best case to wander into Three Dolls on any given day is for its specials, which have ranged from a chicken and fried cotija cheese sandwich with street corn to pork tortas and an exemplary chili dog.
Contact dining reporter Bradley Hohulin at bhohulin@indystar.com. You can follow him on Instagram @BradleyHohulin and stay up to date with Indy dining news by signing up for the Indylicious newsletter.
This article originally appeared on Indianapolis Star: INdulge: Next drink to try this hot Indy summer is the ‘fridge cigarette’
Reporting by Bradley Hohulin, Indianapolis Star / Indianapolis Star
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By Bradley Hohulin, Indianapolis Star | USA TODAY Network
