(Or, Sweet Enough for a Bear, But Made for a Human with Four Bucks to Spare)

When Starbucks first came out with its honey latte (perhaps a month ago), I hesitated to try it.

I asked a barista, "Does it have, you know, real honey in it?"

The barista gave me a you've-got-to-be-kidding-me look and said, "Yes, it does, along with some honey-flavored syrup."

I thanked her lamely and hurried out. Luckily, I was at a Starbucks I don't regularly visit, so there's a good chance we will never meet again. (I probably just jinxed myself by writing that.)

A week later, at a different location, I broke down and gave the honey latte a try.

It was disgusting. The first sips were way too sweet (thanks to the real honey on top) and the last few sips were way too mild. Still, I drank it all because it had cost $3.85. (Those are some high-priced bees, I tell you.)

It's my current working theory that one can't form a fair opinion about something until one has sampled it a minimum of three times, so a week later, I tried it again.

The second latte (and the third) was better than the first, most likely because I stirred the whole concoction before drinking it. Had I known to mix it before tasting it, my first experience might not have been so bad.

As is my habit, the drink I initially found disgusting is now the only drink I order. It's like I've suddenly become Winnie-the-Pooh. I can't get enough honey.

Can you imagine if they opened a Starbucks in the Hundred Acre Wood? Poor Pooh Bear would be broke in no time. Either that or he would be devising a scheme to steal their supply of honey.