Is That A Trenta, Or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

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The Mayans predicted this. They were thinking asteroid, melting of the polar ice caps, earthquake...something along those lines. But nope. The earth will just spin off it's axis because we're all buzzing too hard, or maybe the earth will just sink out of orbit under our combined weight.

Good to know Starbucks is doing its part to usher in 2012.


I'm with J on the revolting antics of the fast food industry these days. Fast food took quite a licking from Super Size Me and Fast Food Nation, and quickly adjusted their practices to provide "healthy" alternatives - salads, wraps, and the like. To counterbalance this, within the last few years they've also started marketing in the other direction: as if individual unhealthy foods are not enough, they now seem determined to take two or more foods that are unhealthy enough on their own and combine them for no good reason. What's better than cheesecake? What's better than a baked potato? A cheesecake baked potato!

Meanwhile, McDonald's has been striving to compete with Starbucks by offering thinly-veiled copies of their signature coffee beverages. Now Starbucks is trying desperately to keep up with McDonald's. That's a little bit tragic. Maybe Starbucks was never the Meryl Streep of coffee shops, but it was no Megan Fox, either. It was nice that they didn't advertise. It was nice that they offered basically only espresso-based drinks. It was nice that they didn't aim for the lowest common denominator. In my eyes, Starbucks was always about comfort - a place where you could drink a delicious coffee beverage and read, meet with friends, or just take a nice relaxing break.

Now, it might be best known as the place homeless people go to take a shit.

Let me preface this by putting it right out in the open: I am a shameless Starbucks junkie. Well, that's not entirely true - I do have some shame. When I go out to eat, I will almost always pick a one-off hole in the wall type place, or at least something you wouldn't find in your average suburban shopping mall. No Cheesecake Factory or Olive Garden for me. And I eat fast food only in the event of an emergency, such as being very hungry, it being very late, and finding myself in a location that gives me few other options. I live in New York City, after all. If I want to eat something unhealthy, I can do much better than Burger King! This city is crawling with great burger places, some of them aspiring to be healthy, and many of them I believe use actual beef. How novel.

However, when it comes to coffee, I generally choose Starbucks. I love a cute local cafe as much as the next cute local cafe-loving guy, but considering my needs, Starbucks just works. You can find me sitting at a Starbucks for five or more hours at a time, writing my latest masterpiece (or this blog). I do this because if I write in a coffee shop, there are fewer distractions. Sure, there are kids running around screaming, wannabe actresses squawking about their newfound veganism, portly middle-aged men in suits barking into cell phones, pervy old men looking at pornography, and schizophrenics shouting about how doomsday is hidden inside the reduced fat cinnamon swirl coffee cake, but I find all of this strangely comforting. It's home to me, and it allows me to concentrate. Short of renting a short bus full of special needs children and buying them each a drum kit and a very young chimpanzee, there is simply no way to recreate this soothing Starbucks environment at home.


Now, keep in mind I am not one of those people who sit there for hours and don't buy anything. Au contraire! I spend a pretty penny. If I'm there for more than a couple hours, I usually get two beverages and often a snack as well. (I have a weird tic: I can't work unless I have a beverage on hand. Damn you, mermaid bitch!) It's safe to say I'm an aficionado (that's Spanish for "addict").

Yes, I love my coffee. If I could, I would be drinking coffee at all times, no joke. If I have just finished a coffee and you offer me more coffee, I will always say, "Yes, more coffee, please." I enjoy coffee-flavored treats such as ice cream and tiramisu; if they ever made a coffee burrito, I'd certainly give it the old college try. In fact, there are certain foods I would only try if I was told they were dusted with coffee.

Sometimes I leave one coffee shop only to meet someone at another coffee shop. Do I get tea this time? No. I get more coffee. I am drinking coffee right now. The great thing about coffee is you can drink all you want, and you won't get fat - all that'll happen is you'll get an ulcer and your heart will explode. Some people pour a bundle of sugar or cream/milk into their coffee, adding calories and diluting the inherent coffee goodness. Not me. I like my coffee like I like my men: bitter, dark, and not returning my text messages. Which only makes me crave it all the more.

But lest you worry about my health, rest assured: I also consume a lot of alcohol to counterbalance it, so by the end of the night I'm at a nice even keel.


On my average visit to Starbucks, I already consume more than a trenta's worth, so I'm not sure what this new size will mean for me personally. I'll admit, sometimes I go to Dunkin' Donuts specifically for their large iced coffee, which I usually take home in a wheelbarrow. (It's not as strong as Starbucks' iced coffee, though, catering more specifically to the milk-and-sugar demographic. When I tell them I want it black, they look at me as if I've asked them to top it off with wolf semen.) Two ventis is about right for me. Throwing a trenta into the mix is just confusing. Do I get a trenta and a tall? A trenta and a venti? Two trentas and a Valium? I don't know! I suck at math! Especially in Italian. I know there are people out there who will order a trenta, but does anybody really need one? And, more importantly, will we be able to lift the cup without pulling a muscle?

While I was initially excited about the idea of a trenta iced coffee - the same way I'd be excited about, say, a pet rottweiler trained to maul anyone who's prettier than me - I quickly came to my senses. It's a simple case of "be careful what you wish for." Because once you get what you wished for, the only thing left to wish for is more. And more, and more, and more. There's a reason we don't fulfill every one of our fleeting desires, and that's because after trenta, there's always quaranta, then cinquanta, then...centinaio? Pretty soon, Starbucks will eliminate the need for tables: we can just sit on our coffee cups, so long as they are placed near an electrical outlet. Is there where we, as a society, are headed? I mean, seriously, what's next? Free defibrillators if you upgrade to a coffee hot tub? Twelve rottweilers trained to maul anyone who's prettier than me? See, you have to draw the line somewhere.

I do feel as if Starbucks has taken its eye off the ball, and that saddens me. I used to be special; now I'm like a teen prostitute from the Ukraine who might like to leave her abusive pimp if she weren't dependent on him for heroin (or in my case, an iced venti americano - but same difference). They offer free wireless to everyone now, which means even more pervy old men can take up table space and outlets looking at internet porn. As if Starbucks weren't already packed before. And you know what, Starbucks? I don't really want to share you with the people who would otherwise be going to McDonald's. Sure, they buy each of their seventeen children a $6 Frappuccino, and are probably the main reason why you are still in business. But let McDonald's have them. You have me. Remember me? Your loyal Gold Card-carrying customer?

Think of all the thousands of hours we spent together, laughing or crying in front of my computer screen, making other customers wonder why the fuck I'm not on medication. You make my heart race faster. You give my leg the jitters. You provide multiple outlets for me to plug into, often for hours at a time, and you're fine with that. One day, you will probably be the death of me, and I'm perfectly fine with that. Because I'm not living without you. My love for you used to be venti. I didn't think I could possibly love you any more, but it turns out I can. Now I love you trenta.

But darling? You really need to do something about all those strays using the bathroom.

It's just not attractive.



Seven ounces better,

X.

My Other Car is a Cup of Coffee

Bigger is better, right?

Sure it is!

Especially when it comes to food and beverages. In a world of KFC Double Downs, IHOP Cheesecake Stuffed Pancakes, Friendlys Super Duper Pooper Burgermelt, or Burger King's 5-whopper-burger pizza burger, Americans are  delivering a crystal clear message to the food and beverage industry:

Our asses aren't big enough. (stop.) Our pants aren't tight enough. (stop.) And our arteries aren't clogged enough. (stop.) Please send more butter! (dies of heart attack).

And the food and beverage industry is saying: "Oh yeah? More? Sure! To the laboratory!" From this dialogue, the innovation passing our faces and noses everyday is practically inspirational. Buns being replaced with hamburgers. Bacon being wrapped in bacon. Cakes being deep fried and served with liquid cake dipping sauce. It's like the fast food folks have been waiting for an excuse to serve a double pizza sandwich since their founding days.

As someone who has always struggled with his weight in the face of NORMAL unhealthy food, this recent sexification of absurd Franken-fat food has me appalled. It's almost as if the years of egg whites only, watch your transfats, mind your carbs, up your fiber, watch your sodium has finally backfired. And Americans, who probably never lost weight eating french fries made in vegetable oil versus standard oil have decided that clearly all this healthy talk is just plain nonsense - and are embracing burger patties that are bigger than their already huge thighs.

And our blog culture is fanning these fanny flames. Whatever fast food restaurant comes up with the most horrifying concoction of the month is guaranteed a ton of articles, some reaching as high as respectable print publications and even television. From this fame comes greater penetration to everyday people who aren't particularly searching out this information. Those people then NEED to try the horrorfood, whatever it may be. Whether to be funny, or because six chicken breasts in the ass of a fried pig actually sounds tempting.

And then there are beverages.

Large cups of soda are nothing new: 7-11 has been converting horse troughs into drink containers and running out of similes for "Big Gulp" as they go. If something is available in a large cup, you can be sure that an extra large cup is a negligible amount of change more. At movie theaters, they have underpriced their 64-ounce soda so much that it is an affront to your intellect and economic sense to get anything smaller than the "aquarium-sized" option.

And then McDonalds went ahead and bought one of the largest billboards just off of Times Square to advertise their gigantic $1 sweet tea. And a note to all of you: it's not blown up for the sake of the billboard, it's actually 440,000 gallons of sweet tea for $1.

Bigger apparently means better. But the key is that it also now means cheaper. If you want organic, healthy food to better your body, you're shit out of luck in the wallet department. The healthier it is for you, the more it costs. However, if you're in the mood for something fried, drowning in cheese, and filled with more cheese... well, that'll cost less than a pack of gum!

It's sad. It's scary. And it's making people fatter by the day.

But there has always been one safe harbor in the corporate Food and Beverage industry: Starbucks. They held themselves above the fray. When trends went in one direction, they gladly sat back and remained the consistent voice of class in chain businesses that are all over the fucking place. When other places went around selling flavored coffee beans, Starbucks threw up their siren hands and said "nope, that results in poor quality beans. Won't do it." (Please note, they now do that too.)

In fact, maybe it's NOT so surprising that Starbucks has caved once again. Years ago, when I worked for them, they said they would NEVER advertise. They now advertise everywhere. They said they would never push the brand into odd categories (please see: Starbucks ice cream, liqueur, and caramel macchiato flavored condoms and dental dams.)

Anyway, clearly you know where I'm going with this. Apparently the 20/24 hot/iced ounces of the Venti beverages at Starbucks just ain't enough any more. Fat America doesn't like riding their segways or waddling back to the coffee place for a second Frappuccino. They want more to drink, and they want it all at once.

Presenting: the Trenta.

Sure it's 31 tasty ounces of iced coffee or tea. For now. Watch them start squashing cinnamon buns into these larger cups the second they realize there's an audience for it. Why, if they could find a way to turn a cup into frappuccino, and then fill it with a different frappuccino, topped off with a straw made from a caramel macchiato biscotti... you can bet they'd be selling that as soon as the technology allowed.

But wait. Let me give Starbucks this much credit: their conservative jump of 11 hot ounces and 7 iced ounces is really not that horrifying. In fact, in a world where restaurants are trying to figure out how to fry lettuce and inject full hamburgers into salad dressing, this increase is sort of an anorexic blip. It is also a classy weight gain, which I credit to Starbucks' odd quasi-italian quasi-hippy branding police. It's not the Wham Slam Monster Cup. It's not the SUPER SIP. It's the Trenta. Which sounds cute and unassuming. Like Venti's slightly heftier sister.

While it's not the worst thing to happen, it still isn't good. How far will it go? What will happen when people demand Trenta frappuccinos? Or Trenta breve iced lattes? Or ask that two Trentas be placed top-to-top, creating a drum-like vessel of 62 ounces? Also - what would it be called?

But these concerns may not be all that important. Because, at the rate (and quality) we're eating these days, we may not be around to see next year anyway.

It's time for lunch!
- J.