<\/p>\n

I think that I speak for everyone when I say — well, write — that it doesn’t take long for you to want to return to where you just came.<\/p>\n

It has been just over a month since my return from South America, and I already miss the\u00a0idiosyncrasies of the people and culture. At times I find myself saying “che!” instead of “hey!”, or making grandiose gesticulations when I get into a political debate with someone — waving my hands or pinching the air.<\/p>\n

However, I find myself fortunate to be in Toronto, a city of such diversity. It helps in the healing process. Since World Cup fever has descended — not just here, but everywhere — living in Little Portugal has been an unforeseen aid in readjustment. If I feel the desire to see old(er) men congregating around tiny televisions over cheap beer, I just walk up and around the streets of my neighborhood.<\/p>\n

So it was, the other day, that I decided to go for a long walk, taking in and observing the changes that have occurred since I was last here. I am happy I did so because on Queen Street West, just south of Little Portugal, I found a cafeter\u00eda specializing in Yerba Mat\u00e9. I was immediately drawn in.<\/p>\n

Inside El Almacen<\/a>, which roughly translates as “the general store,” there are black-and-white photos of tango dancers and buildings in Buenos Aires. On the bar, a tall, brass espresso machine sits beside glass pedestals filled with alfajores<\/em>, the Argentine version of an Oreo cookie.\u00a0Behind the bar, placed up high, are gourds and bombillas<\/em> — steel straws made for sipping mat\u00e9<\/a>.<\/p>\n

One of the owners, a man from Mendoza, opened the cafeter\u00eda just over four months ago in hopes to share the mat\u00e9 drinking culture with Canadians. I decided to put the experience to the test and ordered a mat\u00e9-in-a-gourd.<\/p>\n

It was delicious and oddly familiar. The brand was Taragui<\/em>, imported directly from Argentina.<\/p>\n

Not only do the owners, a married couple, provide the full mate experience, but they also sell the bags of yerba, gourds, bombillas <\/em>and jars of dulce de leche<\/em> for all those that need a little Argentina fix.<\/p>\n

Warm and welcoming, El Almacen is much more than a mere general store. It is a spot that — at least once in a while when I am crying a little for Argentina — I can sit and sip. It’s one more thing that balances my impulsive travel plans and let’s me readjust a little more\u00a0seamlessly.<\/p>\n

By Brit Weaver<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

About the Author<\/strong>
\n<\/p>\n

Toronto born and based, Brit is an avid leisure cyclist, coffee drinker and under-a-tree park-ist. She often finds herself meandering foreign cities looking for street eats to nibble, trees to climb, a patch of grass to sit on, or a small bookstore to sift through. You can find her musing life on her personal blog,\u00a0TheBubblesAreDead.wordpress.com<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I think that I speak for everyone when I say — well, write — that it doesn’t take long for you to want to return to where you just came. It has been just over a month since my return from South America, and I already miss the\u00a0idiosyncrasies of the people and culture. At times […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":7373,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1,2562,2583],"tags":[2305,357,690,1651,559],"yoast_head":"\n