Starbucks #3

These things are now littering the streets of my neighborhood. The lines haven't died down either. I met Leandro on my street corner at 4:30 pm and we waited for an hour. I know, I know, two days in a row? Three hours in one weekend waiting for Starbucks? But Leandro has been such a good friend and he had been talking about Starbucks coming to Argentina forever. I felt bad going without him last night when I realized he couldn't make it. But I was in line and I was going to duke it out. So I just conceded that I'd go with him again. Like I said, it's easy to get caught up in the hype. He has had Starbucks in Chile and Brazil, and he traced mock tears of joy down his cheek when he took his first sip of Starbucks in his country.
He ordered a frapucchino, apparently his favorites are Sweet Caramel and Chocolate Menta, but they didn't have Mint Chocolate here. (I've never seen it.) He says the Starbucks here is modeled after the European stores, since most Argentines are accustomed to more European notions. The food offerings are less American, although after an hour and no lunch I added a blueberry muffin (probably the most American item) to my Grande Dulce de Leche Latte. Leandro had a Frapucchino de Chocolate Blanco and un roll, which is a sticky pastry I didn't much care for. Apparently it is to share, I guess I wasn't supposed to order my muffin but I didn't get that memo.
We were able to snag a seat inside and I asked him if he thought Starbucks was going to steal business from the smaller cafeterias (coffee shops, not the kind of cafeteria you're thinking of) and strip Buenos Aires of its cafe culture. He says no. That coffee here is cultural, ritualistic. You grab a coffee, smoke a cigarette and chat with your friends. He said his parents would never come to Starbucks. As I glance down the snaking line I see the crowd is quite young. Kids raised on sugar and caffeine and American movies clutching their green straws like it's some kind of prize. He also explains to me the difference between caramel and dulce de leche after I tell him we don't have dulce de leche in The States really. He says dulce de leche is sugar, milk, and vanilla cooked and stirred in a copper ("What is the one cent made of?") pot. And caramel is water and sugar with vanilla. Caramelizing the sugar with water makes caramel. Caramelizing sugar with milk makes dulce de leche, or "sweet of the milk." In Brazil it's made with condensed milk; that just sounds too sweet to me. Leandro agrees. After I finished my muffin and the last few gotitas of my coffee, Leandro takes his to go cup and we wandered through the mall together. It felt kind of like a date in the 'burbs, but I think he just wanted to show me around since he's had some interviews with the company who owns all the malls (Alto Palermo, Galerias Pacificos, Abasto Shopping, Palacio Alcorta, etc.) in the city. He's tired of working at the bank. He likes numbers but he really wants to work with people. He's naturally very outgoing. While we were waiting in line for our coffee, Warner Lewis passed by. I introduced him to Leandro, but he went on; didn't want to wait for coffee. Leandro tells me "el mundo es chico," small world (I had always been taught the Spanish idiom was "el mundo es un panuelo," or literally "the world is a handkerchief,") then he asks me if I am a member of Small World. No, what is it? A networking club. He would be a member. He's such a nice guy. He's probably the Argentine I will miss the most. He speaks to me in Spanish but sometimes switches to English because he needs the practice. Ben is on a flight home right now. Weird. I barely saw him once I moved out.