My day here is never complete without a visit to my beloved café, situated right at the Borges train station a mere 1 1/2 blocks away from my house. I so love everything about this place, from the dark wood paneling and cramped picnic table seating to the lady customer that offers daily tarot readings, although at times the number of smoking customers can put a damper on my enthusiasm (at which point I just amble on home to return when the air's cleared somewhat).
Like all cafés in Buenos Aires, the menu isn't just coffee drinks but booze as well. So you can have a daiquiri along with your café con leche, or a daiquiri in your café con leche--not really, although they offer a cappuccino with Tia Maria or rum or whiskey, such a nice afterschool treat on days when parent politics can prompt you to drink away your consciousness. It's just so freakin' awesome how win/win (cue Michael Scott) the concept of a café bar really is...
My beverage of choice is bewilderingly confusing to the Argentines. I like my café con leche y con crema, and here it is usually con leche or con crema. If you prefer both, then you're better off ordering what's considered a cappuccino Italiano, except I want my milk and cream without that heaping tablespoon of cinnamon and cocoa powder, thankyouverymuch. Which is why this Borges café is so great. They like me, they really, really like me (cue Sally Field), and they're willing to put aside their better judgment to bring me what I want without a suggestion to the contrary (yes, this regularly happens in other establishments). One afternoon, faster than you can even say "put those cancer sticks away, bitch," my beverage of choice was dutifully delivered to me by the hot young man in attendance, the Argentine Gael Garcia Bernal (ladies, I will offer up evidence to support), all without my asking for it! It's practically Cheers minus the "Norm" part.
Enjoy these photos of my café. My café. It has the same pretentious ring as my fiancé. I hope the dingo doesn't eat my ... (cue that other sitcom).