Wooah guys, you ain't gettin' it. This ain't rocket science, you know.
Hot drinks are supposed to be served hot. That's H O T HOT. That is 50% of the idea of a hot drink.
The other 50% of the idea is that is supposed to be a drink — i.e., a liquid containing water and (optionally) a variety of other substances which are generally thought to be pleasant-tasting, nutritious, mildly addictive, or otherwise rewarding to the average human.
Now this second part of the definition is actually more useful to us than it seems. It tells us that this thing we call a "drink" is essentially plain old water (plus some assorted impurities which, seeing as we are not talking about scotch or gin or brandy at the moment, can be pretty much ignored).
Water has many interesting chemical properties, but the one of particular interest to us here is that it freezes at 0 degrees and boils at 100 degrees, unless you want to start doing weird stuff like putting it in a pressure chamber. (There are some small variations to the exact temperatures, which are too minor to concern us in this context.)
If you change the temperature of water (with or without the tasty impurities) beyond those two end points (0 and 100), it isn't water anymore. It's either steam or ice. By definition, either way it ain't a drink if you do that: it's either a solid or a gas, and drinkz is alwayzliquid.
(Tea! Calm down!)
(Zorry.)
(And talk properly. Don't try to go so fast all the time.)
(I'm really sorry.)
Now where was I? Oh yes. We have established that a drink (any drink) is always, and can only ever be, somewhere between about 0 degrees and about 100 degrees. Now what about a "hot" drink? Well, we can certainly cross off anything much below blood temperature, because that's a different sort of drink called a "cold drink". A proper cold drink is served at between just barely above zero through to about 5 degrees, though some scungy places will sell you cans of Coca-Cola at about 15 to 20 degrees in the summer. You might buy one from those places, never two.
Then there are luke-warm drinks. Nobody likes those much (except maybe for warm milk when you are younger than me or older than Tannin - assuming that it's actually possible to be older than Tannin, that is) but they are served a little above blood temperature: in the 40 to 50 degree range.
After that, drinks fall into the "warm" category (which is OK for hot chocolate, not very good for tea or coffee unless it has lots of milk and sugar). Warm is up to about 55 degrees.
After that, it counts as "hot". (Remember hot? This is a thread about hot.)
And now we have to decide what "hot" means. First, we can cross off anything below 55 degrees (as that's only warm, possibly cold). Second, we can cross off anything over 100 degrees, as that's impossible unless it stops being a drink.
So where in the 55 to 99 degree spectrum is"hot"?
Well, we can work that out quite easily. Measure the temperature of the water you use to make your tea or coffee. You don't need a thermometer for this, as it just so happens that the temperature which every normal human being heats water to is the temperature at which water turns into steam: 100 degrees. You can tell when it reaches 100 degrees because it gets a whole lot of bubbles in it and you can see all the water vapour coming off it.
(You mean steam, Tea. Everyone knows that kettles steam.)
No I don't mean steam, Tannin. You can't see steam. Ever. Steam is invisible. Not sometimes, not if is a particular temperature instead of some other temperature, not only on rainy days or in winter — you can't see steam. Ever.
What you see is water vapour. Same as those fluffy white things up in the sky that rain on you sometimes. It's not steam.
Yes, a kettle steams, but you can't see it. All you can see is the bubbles in the water (these are steam, but you're only seeing the places where the water isn't, not the steam itself) and the water vapour that forms when the steam cools down and condenses back into tiny droplets of water floating in the air.
One of the things that makes water interesting is that, so long as it's in some sort of motion, it is pretty much the same temperature all the way through. This is particularly so in the case of a boiling kettle, as the heat is applied near the bottom, and the heated water rises to the top, making room for the slightly cooler water to flow to the bottom and get heated up so that it rises to the top, and around and around we go.
So when the kettle boils, the water is at exactly 100 degrees.
(But what if I boil the kettle, on an old-fashioned fire, let's say, so that it doesn't switch itself off, and thenkeep it on the fire? It has to get hotter than 100. 100 plus more heat = more than 100 degrees.)
Nope. Doesn't work like that. The fire transmits energy into the water, and the energy heats the water up to begin with, but once you get to 100 degrees, the water starts to turn into steam instead. The energy put into it by the fire is exactly balanced by the energy consumed by the water-steam transformation. If you add more energy (e.g., put another log on the fire or turn the gas up) then more water turns into steam every second but (and here is the really important bit) the temperature of the actual water doesn't change.
If you want to change the temperature of the water past 100 degrees, then you have to use pressure to prevent it changing into steam. This pressure thing is how steam engines work. Conversely, if you went up on top of Mount Everest, where the air pressure is very low, you couldn't have a proper hot drink at all, as water boils at around 72 degrees up there. By the time you poured it into a cup, it would be not much better than luke-warm.
Kettles don't use pressure. Ergo, boiling kettle water is always 100 degrees worth of hot. (Unless you live in Colorado or somewhere else up high, in which case boiling water is only about 95 degrees because of the lower air pressure.)
Santilli's talk about "too hot to see the steam" doesn't make sense. Even if we translate it to "too hot to see the water vapour", it still] doesn't make sense, unless we presuppose some kind of pressure cooker (which is silly) or some other way of getting ordinary water up well over 100 degrees (which isn't actually as silly as it sounds - more on this in a little while unless I get bored and go watch TV or something instead).
Every normal household, in other words, makes hot drinks at the same temperature: 100 degrees.
After that, there is some loss as the water is cooled by the air as you pour (5 degrees maybe? 10?); by the contact with the cup (probably about the same amount), and finally by letting the drink stand for an appropriate amount of time until it reaches the perfect drinking temperature, which varies from one individual to another, but is roughly 60 degrees.
The key point here is that hot drinks have to be poured at as close as possible to 100 degrees, or else by the time the person gets to drink them, they ain't hot anymore. What you going to do? Ban kettles?
She did do something stupid, two things in fact. (a) she spilled hot drink all over herself (which was an accident, no doubt, and could happen to anyone, but is something we normally train children not to do by the time they are five years old. (b) She blamed somebody else for her own mistake! Call it stupid, or call it morally culpable, or call it both, there is no way known that she has any sort of a case.
Lord knows I am no fan of McDonalds - I hate the bastards unreservedly - but in this case they did exactly the same thing that I would do, and exactly the same thing that any normal civilised human being would do: she asked for coffee so they boiled water and made coffee with it. If she didn't want a hot drink, she could have ordered a Coke.
If I went to your house and you made me a cup of tea with cold water I'd .... well, no, I'd be polite about it because you are a nice person, but I wouldn't bother asking for a second cup.