There are some things you order in Canada for the sake of the Canadianess.
The Canadian Costco hot dog combo for only $1.50, the unnamed McDonald's secret menu order that cross-breeds a junior chicken and a McDouble (I'm not saying the name because it's vulgar and you can't make me), and the Tim Hortons secret menu "Wayne Gretzky".
If you somehow haven't heard of this Canadian coffee urban legend before today, don't worry cause a week ago, I hadn't either. It is a thing, though — one that's gone viral on a few occasions.
Ever since learning about it, it's haunted me in my nightmares. The "Wayne Gretzky" coffee is a Tim Hortons order made with nine creams and nine sugars, named after hockey icon Wayne Gretzky and his legendary number 99 jersey. It's not technically an official menu item, but enough people have ordered it over the years that many Tim's employees know exactly what you're talking about when you ask for one (just not the girl I spoke with).
Some describe it as a melted-ice-cream coffee. Others say it's more cream than sugar. Sometimes referred to as the "9x9" or the "gretter," but I call it a cry for help. So naturally, I had to try it.
Ordering it was a struggle
It was a cold Monday night, and eventually an even colder coffee. But to be fair, that part is the coffee's fault, not Tim Horton's fault. There's only so much science you can do when you combine hot coffee with what feels like a dairy farm's worth of refrigerated cream.
I picked up the one person I thought would actually enjoy this experience: my best friend Izzy, in the name of boots-on-the-ground journalism. Everyone else I explained this drink to gagged at me. Not my sweet Izzy, a woman who loves a sweet coffee.
So off we went to our local Tim Hortons drive-thru, where I mustered up the confidence ot order a large coffee with nine creams and nine sugars.
The worker paused.
"Nine?" she asked cautiously. "You want nine?"
Imagine the commitment I have to my readers to follow that question with:
"Yes, I want nine."
I pulled up to the window with shame in my eyes and paid for my incredibly affordable coffee ($2.95) and headed off on my way. The employee was very thoughtful in warning me that the drink would probably be cold because of all the cream, which honestly was an A+ on customer service at Tim Hortons.
Then it was time.
The taste-test
The first thing you notice when you open the cup is that the coffee is barely coffee-coloured anymore. It's become an off-white, beige pool of liquid in a cup.
Tim Hortons "Wayne Gretzky"Lauren DiBenedetto | Narcity
I took my first sip, and it genuinely sent me on a transcendent journey. First comes the shock. Your mouth doesn't know what to do with it. Then comes confusion. Then, more shocking than anything else: pure bliss. The end note, really, is delicious.
Like, objectively delicious. For those who said it tastes like melted ice cream, it does. It finds itself somewhere between melted ice cream and cereal milk.
That's the problem.
Izzy took one sip and immediately lit up like a kid at Disney World. She obviously loved it instantly. One sip and her eyes widened, and I knew I'd ignited a problem for her.
Still, I knew there was one final person whose opinion I needed before I could fully understand the Wayne Gretzky coffee, or I was just in the mood for a laugh: my father.
Now, I consider my father a coffee connoisseur, which, in his case, means he has consumed at least three cups of coffee per day for approximately 30 years.
I brought the cup home and handed it to him (yes, I prepped him beforehand, he consented).
He took one sip.
"Disgusting," he said immediately. Then, after another moment of reflection, he added that this drink "shouldn't legally be served."
But you need to understand who my father is to understand this reaction. This is a man who doesn't cook with salt, actively tries to reduce his sugar intake, and believes that a coffee should be rich and bitter, not sweet and decadent.
While he may be technically correct, his opinion on fun beverages isn't relevant to me.
Eventually, after enough sampling to probably reduce my life expectancy, I dumped the rest of the coffee down the sink. There's only so much arterial damage I'm willing to endure in the name of journalism.
Final verdict
So the final verdict: would I order a Wayne Gretzky coffee again? Probably not.
Do I think everyone needs to try it at least once in their lives? Absolutely, I do.
Not just in the name of hockey, but for the sole reason that it was, unfortunately, absolutely delicious.
Rating: 4/5
The opinions expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect the views of Narcity Media.