Starbucks and Change

Yes, It's true, I frequent Starbucks in Istanbul. But I do have some good excuses. First of all, it seems like there are more 'bucks on Istiklal Cad., then there are mosques. There are at least two NEW ones on the mile long strip, since last year. But of course, that's not reason enough. Sometimes, it's hard to get something "to go" here. Starbucks has that down. You know, those commuting-to-yoga-class lattes? They always have soy milk. The employees always speak a bit of English, at least coffee shop english - soy, tall, extra shot - you know, the important stuff. Also, the food in the Starbuck's here is very a la Turka, and it's good! Sure, they have the muffins big as your head, and the pie in a cup drinks, but you can also get your soy latte with a tasty pogaca, or mini peynirili. A pogaca is a light, savory roll and a mini peynirli is a wonderful LITTLE sandwich made on some sort of whole grain bread with olive paste and white cheese. They also have some yummy looking roasted veggie sandwiches and smoked salmon wraps that I've yet to try. Oh, and you can always use your Visa. Ah, Westernization is not ALL bad.

It's not all good, either. Last year, I was so pleased, that the sizes in the Istanbul Starbucks were reasonable: short 8 ounces, tall 12 ounces, and grande 16 ounces. The oversized 20 ounce venti didn't even exist. That's the way it should be. Eight ounces is MORE than big enough for a latte, especially since they only put in one shot of espresso. And who needs a 20 ounce coffee drink? For God's sake, this isn't Quick Trip! But it is America, and unfortunately now it's Turkey, too. This year, the sizes have been supersized. The smallest order is now the 12 oz. tall, the medium size the 16 oz grande and voila, the big daddy VENTI measuring in at 20 oz. The poor little short, my size of choice(with TWO shots), is a thing of the past.

But you know what they say about change. I'll roll with the flow. In the meantime, I'll continue to purchase my little 6 ounce hand pressed juices from the Bufe, and be reassured by some of the familiar people, places and things that remain.

The Painter, affectionately known as Teddy Bear Man, continues to wander Sofyali Sokak. He must have lost his teddy bear, but thankfully he's also lost the syringes with which he used to play. The incense selling clown man is still here, with his cartoonish clothes and oversized prayer beads. The boys still sell midye dolma, or stuffed mussels, from trays carried on their heads. The call to prayer sounds five times a day, and a cool breeze blows naturally up from the Bosphorous. And even though a sizzling plate of fajitas just arrived at the table across the alleyway from where I'm writing, I'm still able to sit here at the House Cafe, all day if I like, sipping my chai.