Starbucks experience

Someone has written his experience of ordering a coffee in one of the modern restaurant. Enjoy the write up Starbucks experience ☕ FROM “ORU DEGREE COFFEE” TO “WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO CUSTOMISE?” 😂 There was a time in Madras when ordering coffee was one of the simplest things in life. You walked into a coffee hotel and told the server: “Anna… oru degree coffee.” That was it. No further questions. A few minutes later, you got your coffee in a stainless-steel tumbler and davara — steaming hot, strong, aromatic, with that beautiful froth sitting on top. You poured it from tumbler to davara, davara to tumbler, perhaps two or three times... And you knew: This is coffee! No app. No QR code. No loyalty programme. No “customise your beverage.” Then came Starbucks. Recently I thought, let me have a simple coffee. I walked in confidently. “Sir, what would you like?” Coffee. “Americano? Latte? Cappuccino? Mocha? Macchiato? Espresso? Cold brew? Frappuccino?” Aiyo! I only said coffee! I wanted the thing that wakes me up. Then comes the size. “Tall, Grande or Venti?” Small, medium, large-nu solla mudiyadha? I say large. Then: “What milk would you like, sir?” Milk! “Whole milk? Skimmed? Oat? Almond? Soy?” Cow milk! The same milk that has been coming from cows long before Starbucks discovered it. Then comes the syrup. “Vanilla? Caramel? Hazelnut? Mocha? Salted caramel?” Vendam, vendam! I came for coffee. I didn't come for a liquid sweet shop. But they are not finished. “Extra shot?” “No.” “Whipped cream?” “No.” “Cold foam?” “No.” “Caramel drizzle?” “No!” “Chocolate powder?” NO! At this point I am wondering whether I am ordering coffee or constructing a new flyover. And then there is always someone ahead of you who knows the entire Starbucks dictionary. “Venti iced caramel macchiato, oat milk, two pumps vanilla, extra shot, light ice, cold foam, caramel drizzle…” I am standing behind thinking: Amma! Idhu coffee order-aa illa ISRO launch sequence-aa? Meanwhile, in the old days: “Rendu coffee.” Finished. And then comes the price. ₹300… ₹350… ₹400… For coffee?! For that money, in the old days I could have had coffee, tiffin and probably still had enough change for the bus. And after paying, you get this giant cup. You think: Super! Large coffee! Then you look inside. Coffee somewhere at the bottom. The rest is milk, foam, ice, cream, syrup and something that looks like construction material. Iced coffee is even worse. You get a huge plastic cup. 80% ice. 15% milk. 4% foam. 1% coffee. Take the ice out and the entire “large” coffee will probably fit into the old Chennai davara. And whipped cream? A mountain. You have to climb through the Western Ghats before you reach the coffee. By the time you reach it, you've got cream on your nose and caramel on your shirt. At that point it is no longer coffee. It is a dessert which happens to know an espresso machine. Give me my old Chennai coffee any day. The smell of freshly roasted coffee powder. The sound of the decoction dripping. Hot milk. Just enough sugar. That unmistakable aroma filling the room. And that first sip... Ahhh! No customisation. No “Would you like to add anything?” No 27 decisions before breakfast. Just: “Anna, strong-aa irukkanum.” And the answer would always be: “Seri saar.” That's all. Maybe this is what we old-timers miss. We didn't have ten varieties of coffee. But somehow... we knew exactly what coffee wa