In early November, I wrote about how false Google information led me to Nuevocentro Shopping in Córdoba City in search of a newly opened KFC. Unfortunately, the place wasn’t open yet. The only sign of hope was a construction wall hinting that a KFC would open there someday.
One of our Argentine friends was surprised when we told her about the whole ordeal. She didn’t really get it. The first thing she asked was, “Why the rush?” We tried explaining that it wasn’t just about the fried chicken—KFC represented home for us. She still didn’t understand and gently suggested that we try to find other things in Argentina that made us happy instead of getting so attached to one restaurant. Although her words stung a bit, we knew she couldn’t truly grasp what it feels like to miss home. So we let the conversation go.
Jump to December 11th—and our dreams finally came true.
KFC, which until recently had only operated in Buenos Aires, had begun expanding into other provinces, and Córdoba was finally getting its turn. So, just like before, I rushed out of the house to see it for myself—and, of course, to bring home a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken.
When I arrived at Nuevocentro, I headed straight to the food court, which was surprisingly empty. For a moment, panic hit me. Was I really about to be disappointed again? Thankfully, no. All I had to do was turn the corner—and there it was.
KFC was officially open for business, and customers were already digging into their fried chicken and sides.
There was also a huge line—something you usually only see at Burger King or McDonald’s here. I jumped right in, but the wait wasn’t bad at all; within 15 minutes, I was at a touchscreen menu placing my order.
The staff was incredibly friendly and helped answer everyone’s questions, which was great because I had a few of my own. For instance, I didn’t see cole slaw or onion rings on the menu. It turns out they’d run out of onion rings, and cole slaw wasn’t available at this location yet.
Also missing were mashed potatoes with gravy and warm biscuits—staples back home. Apparently, they’re not offered anywhere in Argentina, not even in Buenos Aires. But honestly, I came for the crispy fried chicken, so I wasn’t too heartbroken.
I ordered an 8-piece bucket, two medium fries, two bacon-and-cheddar fries, a large popcorn chicken, and four medium drinks.
Since I was paying in cash, I had to finalize the purchase at the register. Before doing that, I asked one of the staff members to take a photo of me in front of the giant fried chicken bucket display. She happily said yes, snapped the pic, and sent me on my way to pay.
The area was loud and chaotic—people were placing orders faster than the kitchen could keep up—but it made sense for a grand opening. I wasn’t expecting perfection; I just wanted a bucket of chicken to take home to the hubs.
When I got my order, I noticed they’d given me four small drinks instead of four medium ones. Normally, I might have said something, but since I had a ton to carry and was taking the bus, I figured smaller drinks meant slightly less odds of spillage.
If I had one complaint, it’s that they were extremely stingy with sauces. My huge order came with exactly one honey-mustard sauce, and I had to buy barbecue sauce separately at the register.
By the time I got home, we had to reheat everything, but it was still delicious. We were just grateful we no longer had to travel all the way to Buenos Aires to satisfy our KFC cravings.
In the photo above, the hubs decided to mess with me and completely “Tiny Tim” my plate—if you’ve seen A Mickey’s Christmas Carol, you know the reference. Tiny Tim’s family was so poor they could only afford the tiniest meal for Christmas Eve dinner. Thankfully, that wasn’t our reality, and he filled my plate properly after he finished laughing. Even after we ate until we were stuffed, we still had leftovers for the next day.
This year has been emotionally and financially tough for us, so having a simple moment—something as small as enjoying familiar comfort food—felt like a much-needed break from everything. I guess that's not the kind of thing every will understand. But sometimes it's the little things, like a bucket of fried chicken, that remind us joy can show up right when we need it the most.
