Andes, Asado, and Adios

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It had to come, the end of our trip to Argentina. But not until a few more adventures were had.



Last time we left you we were describing a roadside Asado (bar-be-que) with three guys who were spending their Tuesday afternoon fishing and enjoying some meat and wine. After I wrote that blog I felt I had not done justice to our new friends. Seems it is a tradition in these parts to share large containers of wine, could be the plastic two-liter water bottle we were using on the side of Ruta 94, or it could be a glass jar, or there are even large vessels made to suit this purpose. What we were told was it was something you did only with friends, a way of passing the wealth, of sharing with those you know. So the fact that these guys not only fed us but passed the cup, well, welcome to Argentina where if people know you love their land they just love you right back.



After the roadside stop we headed on to Sol y Neives (Sun and Snow) and a horseback ride that had been recommended by Andres, our guide at the Casa de Uco winery the day before. We had stopped by after the tour to arrange the ride, and our young guide was happy to do it but insisted we arrive at 5 p.m. So we were there fifteen minutes early and escorted to some fine looking caballos already saddled with the traditional Andean saddle, a hard English style frame with several sheep skins laid over it. Off we went and it quickly became apparent why it was important to arrive on time--the first job was to round up the family's goat herd and pen them in for the night. That job accomplished we set off for what began as an easy ride through a valley with the foothills of the Andes rising around us. We were agog with the scenery, everywhere you turned their were snow capped peaks and glaciated valleys that could have served as a textbook example of how these things are supposed to look.



After about 40 minutes of this casual wander through the valley our young guide, Sabastian, headed us straight for one of the foothills...on which no horse trail or other path was visible to us. But it was to him. He put his horse in climbing gear and without ever looking back headed strait up what had to be a 40-45 degree angle rock-covered hillside--the parts of the hillside not covered with rock featured Rosa Mesquita, a thorny rose bush from which the rose hips are used to make jams and creams. I am pretty comfortable on a horse, but this climb was something else and required one hand on the saddle to keep from sliding off. At one point Bill had fallen behind and could not make out the trail, having to call our guid back to him.



Once up the hill we had a tremendous view but took no photos--I was too busy concentrating on keeping on the faint horse trail that led us across about 400 meters of ridgeway that was maybe ten feet wide and dropped off both sides back down to the valley floor, about 1000 feet below us.



Of course, what goes up must come down...and down we went, switching back and forth so tightly that the first rider often found himself looking at the hooves of the horse behind him, without raising his head. More than once all three horses stumbled. None of us fell off. We made it back, just as the sun was setting over the Andes. At that point I said to Bill that I thought our guide was probably about 15, because of the way he led us...and in, he just took off and never looked back unless we called out needing help finding the trail, which we often did. Frequently we would lose sight of him and he would clear a ridge before our slower horses and we would have to try to figure out on our own which way we were to go. Not a complaint, just on observation on young people this age who place more confidence in us old gringos that we probably deserve.



Our last full day in Argentina began with our final bodega tour. Number ten was at Laureano Gomez's "Bodega garage". Seems that Senor Gomez is a rather famous winemaker, being the chief winemaker for Salentine and Trapiche, the two biggest wineries in Argentina. But he grew tired of mass producing wine and thus quit, starting a small winery in his garage...thus the name. It has grown and now turns out some of the best boutique wines in the country. Our tour was led by his son, and this one was special in that they were making their first Malbec as we arrived and all of the samples came not from bottles but fermenting and holding tanks as well as a number of aging barrels. We were quizzed on each wine, asking if we could sort out the grape, what the finished product would be, and what it would compliment. It was a great time and a perfect tour to end on.



We now had to head back north to Mendoza in order to be close enough to make one more visit with DAD, the school we were at the first days we were here, and get on to the airport on Thursday. But there were no rooms in Mendoza to be had due to a championship futbol match, so we ended up at Finca (farm) Garciarena, perhps the luckiest find of the trip. We arrived at the farm and settled in, asking about whether or not they served dinner that night. Yes, we were told, they did. However, that night the Garciarena clan was gathering for an asado and they wondered if we would like to join them? Guess what we said.



The festivities began at 8 p.m. with the lighting of the fire. Nicolas who had welcomed us is, it turned out, the third generation of Garciarena's and was in charge of the place as well as tonight's asado. He was joined by his brother Padlo (a prosecutor for the state of Mendoza who is involved in prosecuting those in the former governments responsible for the disappearance of many young men who opposed the military dictatorship) and his family including his son Salvador who speaks flawless English. There were little children, Nicolas' wife Ana who is a professor of teacher education, and several other cousins. The meats and vegetables went on the grill around nine, which is also when the family wine came out. The farm is about 40 acres of grapes, peaches, tomatoes, and a few other vegetables. They sell all the grapes except about 5% of the harvest which they use to turn into wine for the family and guests. It stood up to anything else we had had.



When the food came off the grill Salvador approached us and told us that the food was ready and where would we like to sit? We asked our choices and he said: "We would like you to come sit with our family. We are using the table in the hall that my Grandfather Garciarena made and he always said he did not want any places to be vacant when we sat down to eat." It would be our honor and pleasure was the only reply possible.



The meal was probably the best we had in Argentina. The beef, both ribs and steaks, cooked to perfection, spicy chorizo sausages, and blood sausage as well. Pumpkin, eggplant and squash grilled just to where the skin was shrinking off. And large bowls of fresh tomatoes (in March!!!) just picked from the garden, with a bit of olive oil (from the farm) sprinkled over them. And of course, more wine. We sat down at 10 and ate, talked, and laughed until 12:30 when we just had to go to bed in order to get around for the return trip the next day.



The Garciarena family and the guys next to the road cooking on the berm tell you all you need to know about Argentina. These people love their country and savor sharing it with whomever shows up in their lives, no matter when that might be.

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Photos

Wine tasting direct
I want one of these in my garage

The Climb
Our guide going back to show Bill the way up the last few meters of the climb.

Creek crossing
One of about a dozen we made.

Kitchen time
If we are going to be family, we have to help with the dishes!