From the outside, El Emporio, a corner cafe down the street from the Santiago home of the legendary Chilean poet Pablo Neruda, seemed like any other shop: tidy dark green awnings, tile floors, a small seating area. Neighborhood regulars chatted out front with dog walkers and delivery workers. I ended up there on a recent weekday morning in February, already baking hot and trying to find a real coffee in a country known for its ubiquitous powdered Nescafe variety.
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