Your Word Order, Please

Do you speak Starbucksian? I am not simply referring to the ubiquitous, upscale coffee chain’s now famous, and much-written-and talked-about words for their small, medium, and large cups (– i.e. tall, grande, and (trademarked) venti – words that many people find pretentious to use, but actually have some basis for being: for example, a “tall” is 12 oz., two ounces more than the usual New York coffee cup. (See “grande” and “venti” explanation further below).

What I’m concerned about today is word order -- the word order necessary to get the drink the way you want it: take what my daughter, Alice, ordered the other day: a tall, sugar-free, skim, 2-Splenda, no-whip, cinnamon Dolce Latte. Alice is 17 and has been drinking coffee for about a year – when did she acquire such verbal, “barista-speak” sophistication?

In 2005 Starbucks put out a free guide to their beverages called, “Make It Your Drink” – a tiny treasure I happen to own. Some of my foreign students back then would go to their nearest Starbucks but felt their English, and especially Starbucksian English, was too weak to order much beyond plain coffee or tea. (And as a Spanish-speaking student once explained – and marketing students, please take note: “I always order the ‘grande’ size because it makes me feel at home.” “Grande,” as you probably know, means “big” in Spanish and Italian and at 16 oz. is quite big; but the biggest size, “venti,” is 20 oz. and means “twenty” in Italian.)

The little booklet, however, offered a ray of linguistic light: first came the glossary that defined the various terms – doppio, shaken, Americano, macchiato, etc. It then explained the order in which it was best to say them: what type of cup (must specify for “iced”); what type of coffee (caf or decaf) and/or how many shots of espresso; what size cup; what kind of syrup (maple, hazelnut, vanilla, etc.); what type of artificial sweetener; what type of milk (whole, 2 percent, skim, soy, etc.) and what kind of drink itself – cappuccino, frappuccino, latte, etc. (Italian drink names add that panache that English just can’t match.)

So for one who prefers a simple and relatively inexpensive “tall Earl Grey,” I am always amused by others’ ability to rattle off such word-order-perfect drinks like “an iced, decaf, triple, grande, sugar-free vanilla, soy, 1 Equal, extra-hot mocha,” for roughly 75 cents per adjective.

Word order in general is interesting, because it is so unconscious. For instance, in my first sentence I called Starbucks the “ubiquitous, upscale” coffee chain. Why didn’t I call it the “upscale, ubiquitous” coffee chain? Do I hear, “Because it SOUNDS better?” Yes, but WHY does it sound better? Why does “one, big, red balloon” sound better than “red, big, one balloon?” It’s what your English teacher might have at one time (when they taught grammar) called “syntax.” It’s the set of internal grammatical rules that are rarely taught and mostly just absorbed through listening and speaking a language.

Still, linguists and grammarians have taken some pains to analyze English word order and, though they are not in total agreement, they have come up with some basic structural guidelines. Take adjectives: “One giant, fresh cup of steaming-hot, black, shade-grown South African coffee” is following the rule of “number, size, age, appearance, color, origin, material.”

Outside of places like Starbucks, we normally keep our adjectives limited to three, tops, to describe something: “the fabulous, new, Scorcese movie;” “a sleek, antique, red Jaguar;” “comfortable, worn-out, leather shoes;” these are examples of a general word order placement that goes: opinion, dimension, age, shape, color, origin, material. Sort of like the old Burger King ad: two, all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun.

Now let’s try word order of a different sort. Which (below) sounds better?

a) I take the train every day to work;
b) I take every day the train to work; or
c) I take the train to work every day.

If English is your first language, you probably, unhesitatingly picked c). If you picked b), you’ve got Germanic ancestors calling you; and likewise, if you picked a) you’ve got some Latin blood. Those languages have different word orders from English, which is what adds to the “foreign-ness” sound when we try speaking their languages, or vice-versa.

The subtle choices in those sentences above boil down to Place and Time. Although in English we generally say, “time and place” as an expression, when it comes to word order, we put “Place” over “Time.” That is, “I go to the movies (place) every Wednesday (time).” Try adding more detail, and the order remains: “I go to the movies in the city, down in the Village, at 13th and Broadway, at the Loew’s 4-story multiplex every first Wednesday of the month at 6 p.m.” Place-place-place-place before time, time, time, time, with each phrase getting more and more specific.

Anyone who has studied French, Spanish, or Italian knows soon after cracking open the textbook that adjectives normally go after the noun – as in “sweater red,” instead of our “red sweater.” They also put prepositions like “from” or “at” at the beginning of sentences where we have switched to putting them at the end, if at all: “Where do you come from?” and “What time is the train?” in Spanish come out, “From where do you come?” and “At what time is the train?”

Some of my young, elementary school students who have now been in this country long enough to master English word order have begun to unconsciously occasionally slip in English word order while speaking their native language – much to the amusement, shock, or horror of their parents.

So whether or not you speak proper Starbucksian, you now know basic Starbucksian word order – and probably even some Italian names for coffee drinks. And just knowing that should help you, if you’re ever in doubt, sidle up to the counter, give a venti-sized grin and ask for any big-beige-frothy-artificially sweetened-or-calorie-laden drink you want. Cheers.