Fried Chicken: A New Platonic Form

I am surprised at how strikingly different Chile and Argentina are, given that they are neighbors. I guess it was a little stupid of me to assume that all Latin American countries are generally the same, because they're really not. I especially started realizing this when Facundo got here and pointed out all the differences between Chile and his country. Of course, his observations are pretty discriminatory against Chile, and he often loudly imitates Chileans when we are in the metro surrounded by them.

The most striking difference has been the high level of capitalism in Chile as contrasted with Argentina. In Chile you can find a wide array of American food chains: Dunkin' Donuts, McDonalds, Burger King, KFC, Applebee's, Pizza Hut, Subway (most of which I have eaten at during my time here. I'm sorry, okay?). In Argentina, you can only find McDonalds and Burger King. In Chile you can find almost any American import you want. In Argentina you can't find basic things we take for granted like peanut butter, maple syrup, Skittles, Ramen Noodles. It's always an adventure when Facundo and I go to the super market. He gets so excited when he sees stuff like Skittles and Ramen Noodles, because in Argentina he has only come into contact with things like that through me, when I bring him stuff from the US. After the 2001 economic crisis in Argentina, the country closed its borders to a lot of US imports, so most of the American products previously available to Argentinians disappeared. So the last time Facundo tasted fried chicken and maple syrup was eight years ago.

It's been really entertaining to watch Facundo fall in love with capitalism since we've been together and especially since he moved to Santiago. I'll never forget the euphoric look on his face each time he has tried a new American food: first it was Nerds, then Sour Skittles, maple syrup, Reese's peanut butter cups (he is particularly in love with those), Cherry Coke, marshmallow Peeps, burritos, pepperoni pizza from Pizza Hut, and finally, today, Kentucky Fried Chicken.

For eight years Facundo has lusted after fried chicken. Once, back in 2001, he ate some fried chicken from a Wal Mart in Argentina, and he has been enamored ever since. He idealizes it to the point where it has become something like one of Plato's Forms. So today, when we decided to go to KFC to have some fried chicken, he got so excited that he could hardly contain himself while we waited in line. We ordered a great big Chicken Box, which contained 3 chicken thighs, 8 nuggets, and 5 chicken strips. I have never seen Facundo rip into food so aggressively or eat so much of it in one sitting. Surprisingly, I think the fried chicken surpassed his expectations. At one point, with his hands covered in chicken grease and a huge smile on his face, Facundo said to me, "Thank you so much, you don't know what this means to me." HAHAHAHAHA.

I really wish I would have brought my camera to take a picture of Facundo's nirvana-like chicken experience. But it'll have to do for now to put up a picture of a bucket of chicken.

I have a feeling we will spend many an afternoon at the KFC in Santiago.