Hispanidad: Krispy Kreme invades Mexico

By Gregory Tejeda <a href=www.upi.com>United Press International From the National Desk Published 5/20/2003 8:15 AM View printer-friendly version

It is amusing to see U.S. brands and products become popular in Mexico and other Latin American countries.

Take Chili's, the suburban-American restaurant chain that strikes many Mexicans as being a fun-filled place to eat "foreign" food, in the same way people in the United States go to Chi-Chi's for a change of pace in their dining.

I even find it humorous that the biggest-selling soda pop brand south of the Rio Grande/Rio Bravo is that most "American" of drinks -- Coca Cola.

In fact, it's more "American" in Mexico than it is in the United States, since Mexicans still drink it out of glass bottles and Coke officials haven't tampered with the formula in Mexico the way they have in the United States. Coca Cola in Mexico still has that same unique taste, unlike the United States, which has turned it into a third-rate clone of Pepsi.

But good taste ought to limit the use of foreign brands, and I believe that line was crossed last week when negotiations were completed on a joint venture that will ultimately bring Krispy Kreme doughnuts to Mexico.

Krispy Kreme?

What did Mexicans ever do so bad that they deserve to have those icky-sweet and overly sticky buns and rolls shoved down their throats?

If officials with the Winston-Salem, N.C., company get their way, there will be up to 20 Krispy Kreme stores across Mexico by 2009. Some time after that, there will be mounds of "Yanqui" doughnuts being peddled in places like Venezuela and Argentina, as the company is looking into expanding to South American countries as well.

It is nauseating to think of my ethnic brothers and sisters being confronted with Krispy Kreme and those tacky neon signs that urge people to rush into their stores like lemmings just because a new batch of doughnuts is freshly baked.

As one might figure, I don't care much for Krispy Kreme or its signature brand "Hot Original Glazed" doughnut, which is a southern U.S. concoction that only in recent years has managed to creep its way up to my sweet home, Chicago.

On those rare occasions when I have a roll, I want something of substance. Krispy Kreme pastries are so yeasty they almost feel like they're puffed up with air. One bite and there's nothing left.

The way they're also coated with honey or sugar or other sticky-sweet flavorings also leaves my hands so gummed up that three days later I'm still leaving sticky prints on everything I touch.

I don't understand their appeal, even though I know people who swear by them and insist the best junk-food delight on this planet is a Krispy Kreme doughnut when it comes straight out of the oven and is still piping hot.

The company has stores in 37 states and across Canada, and is developing them in Australia and Great Britain. Now, they're moving in on the rest of the Americas.

Krispy Kreme Inc. created a partnership with Grupo AXO, which will do the grunt work of picking markets and developing the Mexican stores. The U.S. company has a 30 percent equity interest in the joint venture.

Grupo AXO has experience in bringing U.S. brands to Mexico. Since 1994, the company has brought Tommy Hilfiger clothing and Warner Bros. Studio Stores to the land of Benito Juarez.

Alberto Fasja Cohen, a Grupo AXO president, believes there is a place in Mexican culture for the glazed doughnut, saying, "There is no doubt that Mexico will be an important and successful part of Krispy Kreme's continued expansion throughout the world."

I'm skeptical of that, especially since Mexico is the home of that ever-edible pastry known as the churro.

A churro is a crispy and sweet pastry shaped in the form of a long, thin tube -- maybe a foot long and three-quarters of an inch in diameter. The insides are filled with assorted jellies or (my favorite) chocolate, and then the concoction is fried.

I don't eat them regularly (my waist-line says I shouldn't eat them at all). But when I do, they provide a sugar jolt that lasts a few seconds. The first (and last) time I ever had a Krispy Kreme, the sugar rush was so intense I could almost feel my arteries clogging, and my mouth was coated with so much goop the overall sensation was disgusting.

So who's going to win the upcoming Mexican pastry war? I'm sure Krispy Kreme officials will spare no expense in trying to spread themselves into Mexico and many people will try one just to experience something "American."

But if common sense prevails, the churro will knock the glazed doughnut out of the Mexican ballpark. That would be a victory for good taste benefiting all mankind, especially since insofar as the mass-produced U.S. doughnut is concerned, everybody knows Dunkin' Donuts is better.

-0- (Hispanidad is a weekly column about the culture of Hispanics and Latinos in the United States, written by Greg Tejeda, a third-generation Mexican-American. Suggestions for topics can be made to gtejeda@upi.com)