~aventures du louchette flâneurse: 34ème~

December 18th, 2009

“It’s not simply the terrible coffee that keeps me opposed to Starbucks,” I might say, world-wearily. “It’s the aggressive homogenization of the urban spaces of the world, by now a familiar, lamentable story. Oh Gap, oh Benetton!” And so forth.

Kindly imagine my horror when upon arriving at an address–a home I hoped to find intact for research–to discover it has been converted into a Starbucks. That, my friends, is irony!

To their credit the interior is maintained, for the pleasure of historians and coffee-swillers alike (sorry to report most coffee in Paris is bitter and watery, but none as bad as Starbucks, whose over-roasted beans require caramel cream to blanket–there now I’ve offended everyone).

Yet kudos, Parisian Starbucks, sincerely, for having courage to say nay to those insidious orange blown-glass lamps and yes to ceiling cherubim. Thank you kindly for the chance to tour this space without purchase. (How have I so much firsthand Starbucks experience? Ask my husband, the turncoat.) Some advice regarding coffee in Paree can be found here.