A Week of Gluttony and Asado in Mendoza

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The Long Trek

For our last ten days or so in South America we wanted ease. We were worried about where we would spend the time between Christmas and New Years. Most of Brazil is crazy busy and expensive during January, and the south of Brazil all heads to Uruguay for holiday and New Years. We also, most importantly, wanted a low-key New Years Eve - no big parties, no fancy restaurants, no great expense. As a result, when we left Brazil we made our way back to Argentina. We were late booking our bus from Porto Alegre, Brazil to Montevideo, Uruguay to start our trip to Argentina. All the buses were booked after the holiday, so we did not leave until the 28th. We ended up with less than 24 hours in Montevideo after our all night bus ride. It was not exactly what we planned, but we knew all the beach areas would be expensive and booked. We booked a Sheraton on points in Montevideo, checked into the hotel, took showers, and ran for some decent food after a 15 or 16 hour bus ride, including a stop at immigration and customs at the border at dawn.

We were told to check out La Perdiz, a stone’s throw from the hotel. We arrived in Uruguay on the 29th of the month, the day of gnocchi. The tradition comes from a lack of money at the end of each month as families waited for their pay checks. What was left in the cupboard was potato, thus families would make the potato pasta, gnocchi, for dinner. I continued the tradition at La Perdiz while Eric downed a very large steak. We complimented the meal with a bottle of Uruguayan red wine made from the Tannat grape. After lunch we walked back to the hotel and through the mall attached to the hotel. Later that night, we saw a movie, the Time Traveler’s Wife, and went to bed early. That was our experience in Uruguay. Not much to go off of I know, but we were still recuperating from Christmas in Brazil.

The following morning we made our way to the bus station. We took a two hour bus early in the morning to Colonia, Uruguay, where we boarded a ferry boat to cross the river into Buenos Aires, Argentina. Within a little more than twenty four hours, we hit three countries and received four passport stamps. We then squatted in the lobby of the Buenos Aires Sheraton for several hours and made our way to the bus station for another over night bus, this time heading back to Mendoza, Argentina. We were totally thrilled we upgraded to the CATA International Royal Suite bus. After a very simple and uncomfortable bus seat coming from Brazil at a fairly expensive price ($100 each), the upgrade was worth it, with the total ticket costing less than $50 a person. We each had a puffy leather executive chair that extended almost flat. We had a personal TV showing several Ben Stiller movies in Spanish. We had a hot meal with red wine and champagne afterwards. We could even pull a curtain between the two of us for more privacy. It was brilliant.

We arrived early in the morning in Mendoza, and it was nice being somewhere familiar. We did not even use a map to make our way by foot across the town to the hostel. It was New Years Eve, a Thursday, and the town was eerily quiet. Not a single store was open and there were no people on the street. We wondered if the day was considered a holiday, or a rest day, waiting for the big party. Then we realized we hit a time change, so it was only a little after 7 am; everyone was asleep. When we walked past a dance club, though, things were just winding up as the last of the partiers were falling out of the door still clutching beers and making their way home. Ah, we missed Argentina.

We settled back into our old Mendoza digs at Hostel Alamo, said hello to our friend Dario and the cat Momo. Max even gave us our old room back. We were thrilled. What followed was one week of eating, drinking, and relaxing, just as we hoped, in our favorite South American city.

Argentinean New Years

After showering and settling in to our room Eric and I made our way to the central market to pick up supplies for dinner. Despite not knowing much about Argentinean cuts of meat we stopped at a butcher to investigate our options. It was just before closing time on a holiday and it was slim pickings. Eric and I purchased 1 kg of beef ribs, four plump chorizo sausages, and every other cut of meat I asked for was out. We settled on a thin lomo steak. We picked up some onion, tomatoes, and a bag of wood for a traditional asado in the courtyard of the hostel. Eric wanted to learn how to make his own traditional grill, and wanted to perfect it over our last week in Argentina. During our last visit to Mendoza almost every night someone was doing an asado and we hoped that for the holiday it would be easy for us to just join in with someone and catch some fresh fire. An asado is more complicated than the grilling and bbq we do in the US. Even in Brazil a bag of charcoal briquettes are used. In Argentina, they make their own charcoal. They light wood on fire and as it gets hot and falls apart, the red hot pieces create charcoal, which is then used to cook the food - low and slow. A typical asado can take over two hours, about one hour to get the grill hot, and another to cook the food. We just hoped we could join in with someone for our first asado in over two months, but no such luck.

Lorena, one of the hostel employees, was cooking dinner that night with some of the guests. Other guests were cooking as well, about twenty of them from around the globe, but no one was grilling. Around 10:30pm, typical time to start thinking about dinner in Argentina, Eric and I started the asado on our own. With Lorena’s help, Eric got himself up and running but it was slow going. All of the other guests sat around at their tables for dinner a little before midnight. We had our meat on the grill and were coming slowly along. It was a conversation starter though, as all of the European guests milled around outside, we struck up conversations. They were intrigued that we were even trying to take on the local custom, but of course there were jokes that we might not get the chance to eat before dawn. But, at last, about quarter after midnight, and after our toasts to the New Year, we finally ate and it was worth the wait. The ribs were stunning, perfectly cooked with tasty gristle on the outside. After dinner, we joined some folks in the backyard, some Dutch, Brits, and a Belgian, we drank wine and fernet and coke before heading to bed a little after 5am. We were proud of ourselves staying up late after an asado, drinking fernet, just like a true Argentinean. Well, we were proud of ourselves until the morning. We spoke to Eric’s sister in Maryland, who has five kids, and we have never heard her sound so terrible. Apparently, she stayed up with Eric’s other sister, Catherine, and his seventy five year old mother until 4:30 in the morning celebrating the New Year. We were stunned. And, we thought we were up late.

New Years day was tough. We slept through breakfast and woke after noon. All of the restaurants were closed near the hostel as was the supermarket. We were not even sure what kind of food we wanted, and settled on Grido ice cream. I am officially an adult - staying up until 5am and eating ice cream for breakfast.

One of the reasons we wanted to return to Mendoza was to eat at our favorite restaurant, La Barra. We enjoyed two fantastic steak meals during our last trip. We tried to eat at La Barra our last night in Mendoza, but it was inexplicably closed on a Saturday night. This was a chance to set things right. We tried to have dinner there on New Year’s Day, but failed. They were closed. Every other time we walked by they were closed as well, to the point that we stopped trying. On New Year’s Day we had dinner with our new friend Felipe and his wife Lena. They are from Porto Alegre and we planned on meeting them while in Mendoza. We boasted about La Barra. We failed. Felipe also wanted to try the Vines of Mendoza tasting room - also closed. We settled on a nice dinner at Sr. Buque, a parilla, or grill house. It was what I missed from Argentina. We finished off two bottles of wine, sparkling water, four plates of various cuts of steak including Eric’s 450 gram bife de chorizo steak, some vegetables, and empanadas, with a total well below $100 for the four of us. We sat outside and chatted for a few hours before returning back to our hostel to introduce the Brazilians to fernet and coke. One of the funnier things that came out of the discussion was the ignorance of Americans in regards to their South American neighbors. In addition to a bunch of myths that most Americans think about Brazilians, Felipe said they assume that everyone walks around naked or next to naked, they do nothing but play soccer (which may be partially true), they speak Spanish, and that the capital of Brazil is Buenos Aires (which is in Argentina, and no the capital of Brazil is not Sao Paulo, it is Brasilia). I just about fell off my chair because I know this statement holds great truth.

A Week of Beef, Wine, and Mate

This blog entry includes no big planned events or tours. We returned to Mendoza for pure gluttony - to eat and drink. After our first 36 hours in Mendoza, with our bellies full of wine, beef, and fernet, we were happy to be back in one of our favorite places. We enjoyed our favorite café con leche with golden sweet factures at Quinta Norte. We were very happy to be back to our wine habit - a habit of drinking fantastic, great value wine, usually purchased at the Carrefours supermarket for less than $5. We were also thrilled to be drinking mate again. We picked up the habit last time we were in Argentina. We purchased a cup for drinking mate, a silver straw called a bombilla, and a thermos. We filled our mate to the top with herbal tea, and filled it with water from the thermos. When we arrived at the jail cell hostel in Rio we realized that our thermos broke during our flight from Santiago. We had, therefore, been mate free for weeks, other than our stay with Thales’ family. One of our first trips to Carrefours in Mendoza we purchased a new thermos and we were on our way. After breakfast we would sit in the courtyard of the hostel, drinking mate, soaking in the dry sun, and playing with Momo. The hostel even had a little pool to dip into. It only went to a little above my waist, but it did the trick on a hot day.

Outside of our evening out with Felipe and Lena we rarely ate out at a restaurant in Mendoza. One night, while recuperating, we ate some mediocre Italian food. We ate a few sandwiches and such for lunch a few days, and aside from that, we ate meat. Lots of meat. After our dinner with Felipe, Eric made another go at an asado, with great results. We just cooked up some small sausages and the lomo we purchased for New Years Eve. Eric was becoming an asado master.

We woke Sunday morning at the hostel and saw our friend, Langdon, was in the hostel using the internet. It was grand to reconnect with him. We agreed to work on an asado that night with our new Dutch friends, Frederica and Franz. Another Dutchman, Cliff, joined the group too. They had wanted to try one but were hesitant about trying to figure it out. When we saw Langdon that morning, I just had a feeling I would eat well that day. Langdon agreed to join in with us and the Dutch. That night, Eric started up the fire with some suggestions from Langdon. After a few minutes, Langdon joined Eric to give him some “pointers” - then Langdon took over, with great results. Eric had been doing a good job, but the asado master created a master piece. Eric was merely an asado apprentice. We had rib eye steaks, cooked to perfection, some of my favorite beef ribs, chorizo, and grilled vegetables. Langdon even threw a whole pineapple on the grill for dessert. It was great fun. Once again, next thing we knew it was quite late, but we had another great night. One of the best things about this trip has been the opportunity not just to speak with the locals from the country we are visiting, like we did in Brazil and Vietnam, but to learn from people from all over the world; most of them have been Dutch. It’s a small country, but they all seem to travel everywhere as we are meeting them pretty constantly.

Countryside Asado

One of the employees from Hostel Alamo, Dario, has become our friend. When we first arrived Dario suggested we head out for an asado in the country. On our last full day in town, Dario picked us up and we made our way out of the city with Dario’s girlfriend and Langdon. Dario has a smaller car and we were a bit tight with the five of us plus food. It probably would not have been too bad if Dario’s trunk was not filled with some giant speaker, or bass thing, I was not too sure. But, when he cranked up the music it was vibrating my back to the point of giving me a massage. An hour outside of the city we arrived at Aguas del Pizzaro, on the road to Chile. We were not sure what to expect.

The Aguas was a private park up on a hill. They had a series of grills set up with little sinks and picnic benches. They also had a gorgeous pool with a view over the mountains. It was unfortunate because we thought about bringing our bathing suits and just did not. I almost sucked it up and went in my matching bra and panties but felt self conscious about the potential sheerness. Nevertheless, it was educational watching a true asado master at work. Langdon is great, but in the end he is a transplant to Mendoza. Dario is born and bred Mendocino. He has strict rules - no vegetables. He has always been very critical of Langdon with his asado experiments. For us, though, he made an exception, grilling up some brochettes (kebabs) and some onions. Now, I don’t eat onions. They are really the only food I do not eat. I will eat some onion rings (particularly from Burger King, which do not really count because they are dehydrated fakeness) and I like a French onion soup, but eat around most of the onions. Dario placed large spring onions in the fire, not just on the grill. They were black and charcoaled on the outside when ready. After peeling off the outer layer the inside was sweet and fantastic. I had not only seconds, but thirds. Dario also grilled a green pepper stuffed with an egg cooked over the grill, which was fantastic.

As for the meat, Eric finally solved a mystery. Back at our first Argentine asado in Cordoba with our tourism student friends from San Luis, we had the most fantastic cut of meat. It was almost like a flank steak, thin and tender, but with a strip of thin fat on the top that crisps up like bacon on the grill. Well, Dario pleased Eric beyond belief when he brought out this mystery cut of meat. Mystery solved. I was told it is an entrada, or something like that. There is no true translation into English and Langdon assured us we cannot find it in the US. I was explained where on the cow it comes from so maybe I can make nice with a private butcher to find the cut. Other than that, it will be repeat trips to Argentina for this steak. In addition to two cuts of beef, Dario brought out another Argentine specialty - intestines. We ate small, grilled chicken intestines in Japan, so this was not a first. I had promised myself that I would try unusual foods during this trip, and that I would not shy away from anything. I have tasted everything that was put in front me during the year, but have been disappointed in my lack of “adventureness”. I hoped to redeem myself a little bit here. The intestines were great - thin, crispy outside, with a soft inside, like the consistency of a pate. I had seconds. But, Eric was more impressed with me eating onions than he was with the intestines.

After stuffing ourselves silly with meat and the occasional veg, it was time to retire to the pool. I was not too disappointed that I did not bring a suit considering that it was considerably more breezy in the country. I even wore my fleece while in the shade. At the pool, I was fairly content to sit on the side with my feet dangling in. We started our post asado drinking with a round of fernet and cokes, but Dario’s girlfriend wanted a rum and pineapple drink. We took care of the ordering especially because Dario was supposed to take us to the central market with him to do the shopping, but instead covered the tab on his own. We, therefore, ordered a Bacardi and pineapple. It was a 40 peso drink, about $10, which was unusually expensive, but considering we did not pay for much more than a few bottles of wine for the meal, we figured it was worth it. The bartender cut open the top of a fresh pineapple, scrapped out the insides, threw it in a blender with a load of rum, and refilled the pineapple shell with the mixture. It was tasty. Surprisingly, after finishing the drink a bartender came by the side of the pool and refilled the shell, and they refilled it one more time at the bar at no charge, making the $10 drink a good investment. It was a great afternoon, which we did not really want to end, but of course, in Argentina, the day of fun never ends while it is still light outside, unless it is after dawn.

We returned to the city and Langdon invited us over to his apartment, just up the road from the hostel, for some frozen fruity drinks he calls “death punch”. Our group was joined by Langdon’s British roommate and her Mendocino boyfriend. It was a lot of fun talking with them although it was a bit tiring. Eric does not speak much Spanish, I can only understand it when they speak slowly, and even then I get the gist but not every word, and two people at the table spoke little English. This seemed to be a common theme with several of our encounters in South America. After things started to break up I could not believe it was not all that late. I was stuffed. We returned to the hostel with Langdon, sat in the courtyard drinking some beers and sticking our feet in the little pool. That was when Langdon paid us an enormous compliment. Langdon is a bit protective of his adopted home. He has a problem, for example, with expats who live in Argentina but don’t bother to learn Spanish. He also has a problem with people who solely move to Argentina because it is cheap without absorbing any of the local culture. When Langdon noticed that we had absorbed some of the culture in Argentina, he said so. We learned to not only enjoy the wine and the Quilmes beer like most tourists do, but also learned to love mate, Fernet and coke, eat dolce de leche, and do a proper asado. We shopped at the Mercado central. We spent time in the country. He was impressed and we were proud to be more than the average tourist because we truly fell in love with Mendoza and cannot wait to return.

We were sad to leave Mendoza. On our last day, we checked out at 10am and waited for our bus, which left at 9pm. During that time we squatted in Hostel Alamo. We made plans to do one more lunch asado for Dario when he arrived at work. Langdon was going to swing by too. We were fairly lazy with getting ourselves up and out. We were also fairly lazy about making our way to the central market to find the mysterious entrada meat and our favorite ribs. Instead, we settled for some chorizo and ribs from the supermarket. It was a big mistake. The ribs were not as good and the chorizo was pretty awful. We tried to repeat Dario’s egg stuffed pepper, Mendoza with Dario’s asado feast and gone out in style. I felt like we pushed our luck. Once again it felt as though Mendoza was kicking us out the door as we were leaving. We also never had our opportunity to eat at La Barra. Regardless it was a fantastic stay and everything we hoped for.

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Photos

Being Silly on the Ferry
On the way from Uruguay to Argentina

CATA Royal Suite
Stretching out in style heading to Mendoza.

Momo the Cat
At our window

Eric's First Asado
Happy New Years

The Most Important Job
I am the taster

Our Asado With Langdon
With grilled pineapple

The Pineapple Bomb
It was a shared drink

Comments

[Cheryll]

The CATA Royal Suite Bus was very cool. You were wined and dined better than on an airline. Very impressed with Eric's tradional asado!!!!! Cheryll

[ariel]

the cut of meat is entraña, and it is reallly the best one, if you come again some day, you should go to "punto de encuentro" where you will eat the best asado in mendoza.it is at 10min away city, im glad to here you liked mendoza, the asado and the fernet.