There are invasive species, such as insects, snakes, and other critters. In Rome, there’s another kind of invasion, not as creepy, but equally upsetting. 

The invasion of Rome started years ago with that most American of restaurants, McDonalds. We have the (in)famous McDonalds at Piazza di Spagna, which launched protests across Italy when it opened in 1985. My dad didn’t mind it — he’d go every now and then for a Big Mac. Today, we’re pretty much used to it. In fact, walking the opposite direction from our place, we also have a second McDonalds, which took over the space once occupied by Burger King. I have to admit, every now and then, I too patronize the Golden Arches in Rome, mostly for the french fries. The interior of the one next to Piazza di Spagna is nice and interesting enough to draw random admirers. It also has decent restrooms. There are several other McDonalds around Rome.

A quick walk down Via del Corso gives you glimpses into some of the many other invading global brands… 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Frankly, I don’t mind some of the invaders, such as the Five Guys that opened in Termini, Rome’s main train station (we were supposed to get another one a few minutes’ walk from us: signs went up pre-Covid but it never materialized). I like having the gorgeous new flagship Apple store just down the street. I am also incredibly happy that I can now buy stuff from Amazon.it, as I remember the old years when the “closest” Amazon was in the UK.

Thank God, however, that the worst of the invaders was successfully beaten back. Dominos tried to sell its “pizza” in Italy. It failed miserably.

But now there is a new invader, and I am hereby joining the Italian Resistance to repel this foe. Yes, Starbucks has launched its invasion of the Eternal City, establishing a beachhead a few minutes away from us. I walked by, quite by accident, to find a line of people waiting to get into it. 

 

I HATE the idea of Starbucks in Rome. I also just don’t get it. I can walk a couple doors down to my little coffee bar, Burro & Alici, presided over by the affable Vito, and enjoy a very nice espresso in a cute little china (not paper) cup, standing at the bar, for just €1.50. Vito also has all the local scuttlebutt, such as when the proprietor of the neighborhood pizza joint was arrested for laundering money for the mob (apparently I was the last person in the entire neighborhood who didn’t already know this).

In all candor, I do purchase from Starbucks in the States every now and then. I have consumed its espresso, latte, flat, macchiato, cold and nitro brews, and even — once on a dare — its Apple Crisp hot concoction. I offer no excuse nor rationalization for being a customer. (Once the Clover machine left my nearest store to go live on a farm, my desire to do business there dropped precipitously.)

In addition to the product, I value the experience that comes with food and drink. The quality of the espresso at U.S. Starbucks always falls short for me. The experience falls farther short, no matter how hard the company tries to make its stores feel more “coffee pubby.” Then there’s the fact it’s so much more expensive than a well-made shot in Rome. There is also simply no need in this universe for the high-calorie, sugar-filled Starbucks stuff, such as “Sugar Cookie Almondmilk Latte” or “Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino” (these are real names taken from the their website). And the olive-oil-in-the-coffee thing? I can’t bash what I haven’t tried, but I also can’t give that thing more of a side eye…

No matter what, though, in the end, this is what a coffee should look like in Rome, people!

The only good thing to come out of finding this Starbucks location is that it drew my attention to the building it’s in.  It’s located between the Chamber of Deputies and the Pantheon. I discovered that the building has some lovely features. I am guessing that is the only reason I will ever have anything nice to say about the Starbucks in Rome.

 

 

 

So, I am begging you — join the Resistance. When you go to Rome, don’t go to Starbucks, but go to the little local coffee place on your street. Me, I’ll be doing my duty, throwing back my inexpensive, delicious little coffee while chatting with Vito.