Great food

Buenos Aires has great food. Argentina is, of course, most famous in North America for its beef and its wine. I have to say, I’m not sure I really know how to judge the quality of beef. Growing up, my family’s red meat consumption was mostly in the form of hamburgers (my dad makes the best, and I’ll fight you on that) and the occasional pot roast or stew. Actually, my mother would eat stew every day if she had her way, but my brother and I went on strike at a young age after it was the only dish we ate for an entire winter. At least that’s how it goes in my memory. I have eaten steak only four or five times in my life. I had filet mignon once at one of those Japanese restaurants where the chef juggles knives and cooks the food at the table. I was probably eleven or twelve years old and went with my aunt and cousins. They, being good Cubans, ordered their steaks rare; I, taking a cue from my Irish mother who microwaves her meat after my father cooks it, even if it’s already crispy, asked for mine well-done. Apparently this is a filet mignon faux pas, and the chef made a big deal of serving everyone’s food and then having to wait around for mine to finish cooking. I distinctly remember him slapping it with the spatula, perhaps to prove that it was good and dry. But I digress.

So Buenos Aires is known for its beef, which comes from cattle that graze in the pampas, the vast plains to the west and south. Actually, Argentina has a gaucho, or cowboy, culture that is alive and well; I often see gaucho paraphernalia decorating the windshields of busses and there is a gaucho market a little outside Bs.As. The most traditional ways to eat Argentine beef are asado and parrilla; both are kinds of barbeque. I’m a little embarrassed to say that I have not actually had either. Well, I sort of had parrilla, but I went with a vegetarian and we shared a vegetable version. The grilled veggies were yummy, but did not quite constitute the traditional Argentine experience. I have, however, eaten my fair share of beef. My host mother makes an excellent roast, and meat is served at La Alameda on a regular basis. As I said, I’m not an experienced judge of beef, but I can say that meat here is very good. Also, they like it well-done.

Wine is a subject with which, while I know just as little about it as I do about beef, I have more experience. I really like wine and, although I usually buy cheap wine because I am a poor student, I can taste the difference between good wine and cheap wine. Here, the cheap wine is good wine, while expensive wine is really good wine. I can buy a bottle of wine for nine pesos (a little less than three dollars), and it tastes just fine to my finely attuned college student taste buds. Really, most college students are just excited by wine that doesn’t come in a box with a pour spout. The price also means there is a lot of incentive to drink wine over other beverages because, as I said, an entire bottle of wine can be had for nine pesos while a 20-oz bottle of water (a glass of tap water is difficult to come by in restaurants) or soda is between six and eight pesos.

As wonderful as Argentine beef and wine are, there are three other food items that, in my opinion, make a trip to Bs.As. worth it. The first is empanadas. I’m going to go ahead and assume you all are familiar with empanadas—if you’re not and you live in Arlington, take a drive down Columbia Pike. Here they are stuffed with the traditional ground beef or chicken, but can also be found with mozzarella, basil and tomato, tuna, bleu cheese, ham and cheese, spinach, and a whole array of other ingredients.

The second amazing food is helado, known in English-speaking places as ice cream. Here you can really see the city’s Italian influence, as the ice cream is more like gelato. There are helado shops on almost every street corner, which means it is a daily struggle to eat anything else. My favorite flavors are chocolate suiza (dark chocolate with dulce de leche), coco con dulce (coconut with dulce de leche), and dulce de leche (dulce de leche with dulce de leche).

Which brings me to the third: dulce de leche. Dulce de leche is made from milk and sugar that has been boiled down and boiled down until it turns into a thick, gooey, delicious caramel (the name means milk sweet, or milk candy). It is put in or on top of everything from cookies to bread to fruit. I love it. I hear other foreigners complain that dulce de leche is too sweet, but, as a Cuban, I have no concept of “too sweet.” In case you’re wondering, as a Cuban I also have no concept of “too loud,” “too close,” “too much garlic,” or “none of your business.” It appears the only trait I picked up from my mother is my strong aversion to meat that is still bleeding.

I could go on and on about Argentine dishes. The pasta, the pizza, the tortas, the pastries—all the things that Argentines are miraculously able to eat and still maintain their size 4 figures. But I’ll sign off for now, I hear a salad calling my name.