Yup, I finally made it to Starbucks. Went to yoga practice this morning, came back and did some work, and then I decided I had to go to Starbucks. Actually, I was intending to have breakfast at a restaurant here in the hotel, but I got off to a late start only to find that they were closed. But first I called Janet and said I’d be heading down to “Third World Kitchen” for breakfast. Um. “No, that isn’t right,” I thought, even as I said the name. Yeah, the name of the place is “Global Kitchen,” which turned, in my mind, to “World Kitchen,” and which came out of my mouth as “Third World Kitchen.” Go, Karen.
So Starbucks it was. I now have enough of a sense of where I am to know what direction Starbucks lies in, so I headed off. I was, of course, stymied by the gates that keep you off the curbs. Then there was a sign for an overpass that I could see, but couldn’t find a door to. So I stayed on street level until I spotted a few people jaywalking. Woohoo! That’s the ticket. I followed along and finally made it to the Starbucks I often drove past in taxis, but which had remained so frustratingly elusive.
At Singapore Starbucks, they do not make you say “grande” or “venti” or anything like that. I said “small,” and the fellow behind the counter was a-okay with that. And yes, he could make me a soy chai latte. I’m not sure if this is Starbucks policy or not, but it seems like they hire people with exceptional English.
A woman served me the scone I requested, and asked me if I wanted a fork. I was perplexed for a moment. “Am I supposed to use a fork?” I tried to remember. “Greatest Hits of John Lennon” was playing in the store, which somehow helped me to remember that no, I don’t need a fork for a scone. The woman at the counter seemed interested in my response, which made me wonder if Singaporeans usually ask for forks.
Behind me, two men ordered “Coffee Americano.” I thought this was fascinating, particularly since I have no idea what it might mean. Is it just plain coffee?
I took my forkless scone and sat down with the Singapore newspaper. The scene at Starbucks is quite cosmopolitan. Lots of Australians around, and trendy looking Singaporeans. More John Lennon songs. When we got to “Mind Games,” I felt a huge wave of nostalgia, which surprised and amused me. I am hardly an expatriate, seeing as I’m only here for a week. But somehow, the music made me feel like I was far away from home, and that I’d been away for a long time. The soy chai latte wasn’t right, somehow. Too watery. Still, it was something of a treat. For the familiarity.
Like a fool, I decided to figure out a better way back to the hotel, and chose to go up into the overpass since I could find a door for it on this side of the street. It spit me out (after I saw my first indigent Singaporean sleeping in the stairwell) in an upscale mall. Oh God. My daughter is, I’m sure, laughing at the thought of me trying to make my way through a mall. I hate malls and don’t even know how to navigate the ones I’ve lived near for almost a decade. I went around in circles for a while and finally ended up outside again on the street. Which meant crossing about six lanes of crazy traffic to get to the other side.
Patience is the name of the game when it comes to crossing that many lanes of traffic. I wasn’t alone. There were other players. All of us made it across.
Now it’s back to work. Not sure where we’re going this evening, but I’ll be sure to get some pictures.
Americano is watery coffee as opposed to espresso. I think the name came because of all these Americans that used to visit Italy, France or Spain and couldn’t deal with the espresso and instead asked for filter coffee. My mom loves it; I need the hardcore stuff.
Thanks, V. So it sounds like the answer is yes, it’s the kind of coffee Americans think of as “plain coffee” — versus espresso. Did your Mom grow up with espresso and then develop a taste for the watery stuff? That’d amuse me. I grew up on the watery stuff and developed a taste for something stronger when Starbucks started peddling their stuff.
I am so intrigued by the sconefork. Have a safe trip.
Jamie
Hi DZM,
In Spain, when you go to a coffee shop/bar, you have three options:
- cafe solo (black espresso)
- cortado (means, literally, “cut” because you cut the black espresso with a tiny bit of milk)
- con leche (this would be a cafe latte, except that it’s nowhere near as big as even the smallest Starbucks latte)
You only get Americano in houses, when people make their own coffee with a filter pot instead of an Italian coffee maker, so I guess that’s where she developed the taste. My brother used to go bonkers every morning that my mom was the first one in the kitchen and made coffee, because it was just so weak! She drinks cafe con leche when she is out and about, though.