The Universe is having some fun with me.
Yesterday I went to a gorgeous little cafe in Palermo SoHo called Baraka with Sally and her amor, Carlos, and his daughter. If you are in Palermo, you really should go, Corner of Gurruchaga and Goritti. Fantastic coffee and ginger infused beverages, along with organic foods and sweets. Plus the whole environment is cozy and comfy without any pretension. And the prices are great.
So, I ordered a cafe doble and I saw a display of beautiful muffins when we walked in. On the menu it listed "Muffin" along with the available flavors. One of which was arandano, or blueberry, which is my favorite. So I ordered a muffin de arandano.
When the plate arrived, my eyes grew to saucers, it was a huge blueberry crumble tart. It was gorgeous (and insanely tasty), but it was not a muffin. I laughed and explained to my friends what I was expecting, I pointed to the display and asked Carlos "Como se dice?" It was explained to me that it was a Budin. We laughed over the word mix up, I inhaled my "muffin" and all was well.
I now knew what a muffin was in castellano. I was prepared for future ordering.
Fast Forward to this afternoon. I went to a different cafe, saw another lovely display of what I know as muffins and knew was budin in Buenos Aires. Read the menu and saw "budin" listed with a variety of muffin-like flavors. I ordered a cafe doble y un budin de limon. Confident I had cracked the code.
I got my coffee along with a gorgeous slice of lemon bundt cake. Not a muffin at all. I started laughing, which really confused the waitress. I think that she was concerned that I was either unstable, or she had missed something. I tried to explain the sitation (she spoke no English). I went to the muffin display, pointed, and asked "Como se dice?" She said "Panecillo". I told her about my ordering in the other cafe and that the work in Ingles was "Muffin". She started laughing. She pointed to a small fruit tart and said "Es un muffin!" We spent a few seconds pointing at different things and telling each other in our languages what the name was.
She then apologized and said that since she had already cut the cake, she could not take it back. I said it was ok, I would be happy to eat the lemon cake. I knew it was not in my cards to have an Inglese muffin (as she called it) any time soon.