Back To Being Me

Today, with a little time to wander I strutted off the San Telmo looking for a place real Argentines eat. Enough of white tablecloth dinners at the high dollar restaurants by my hotel. Enough of being catered to. Enough of elegance and Buenos Aires with "airs".

Desnivel is a simple, dare I say it, no frills restaurant where local families and friends out to share a meal together gather. This is not the white glove service offered in the more exclusive restaurants in town but simple, homey, and -- by the way--  delicious fare offered at reasonable prices for working people -- and anyone who loves good food.

Right by the door, where you will be waiting for a table if you arrive anywhere near meal time, is the mammoth grill that fires many of Desnivel'd entrées and feeds a small counter for fresh made grilled meat sandwiches. The heartbeat of this friendly place and a pretty warm place to stand --- even on a crisp fall Buenos Aires day.

It's probably not much to look at. The decor is pretty much a rag-tag collection of old flags, posters, and an odd photo collection of Argentine film stars, comedians, and soccer players. None of them signed as if they had been customers, just dusty old photos covering a little space on the walls. The food, placed on the red checkered (covered in vinyl) tablecloths with a hurried smile, is the real decor here.

I started with the classic Argentine appetizer and evidence of the food genius of this food centric country, Provoletta. A thick slab of grilled provolone cheese flavored lightly with spices and olive oil. Fondue at it's most elemental taste, Raclette with no potatoes. Thick, oozy, flavorful cheese. I've got to remember to make this at home.

Although I was tempted by the delicious looking special of baked lamb, I felt compelled to compare and contrast. It was my last day, my last Argentine meal for a while after all. I went to order my usual collection of grilled offal -- sweetbreads, intestines, blood sausage. My waiter, though hurried (not at all unpleasant) with many tables to serve, pointed out the restaurant's mixed grill platter. "Less expensive that way." he advised. I ordered the platter and for less money added grilled kidneys to my dinner.
I have a new favorite place. The meats were perfectly grilled. Tender, crispy, delicious. The chimicurri sauce -- the argentine condiment of choice -- was peppery and vinegary and the perfect foil to the fatty, rich-tasting organ meats. Desnivel is my new must visit in BA. It has everything I look for in a bustling, vacation restaurant. Great food, friendly people, and a full menu of dishes you want to try. In spite of the long line on anxious patrons waiting for tables you never feel rushed, always welcome to linger and be one of the restaurant's family.
I'll be back for the baked lamb.

Alfajores

This simple little cookie is an Argentine obsession. Generally two shortbread cookies sandwiched with creamy dulce de leche (a thick milk custard served one everything from ice cream to breakfast pastries) -- although other flavors exist. They come covered with chocolate or meringue, packed in boxes or as single servings. The most famous brand is from the chain of Havanna stores but every cafe offers a version and finds plenty of takers. I brought a box home for James.

A Menu Oddity

The first time I saw it I assumed it was a fluke. Chicken "Maryland,"  a dish I've now seen on several Argentine menus, combines the poultry with peppers, corn, ham, and banana sauce. As a native of "The Old Line State" I certainly saw lots of ham and peppers and corn growing up, and of course the Delmarva area is, locally famous for chickens. But, I never recall seeing a banana sauce, much less a banana growing in my home state.
I haven't had the nerve to order this particular Argentine invention yet.

El Mirasole

Although I usually make the effort to cross town to track down some regional specialty or hidden local treat, some nights a simple place I can walk to is in order. Luckily in Buenos Aires you don't have to go very far. Less than 3 blocks away from my hotel is El Mirasol, one of a small chain (5 locations) in BA serving grilled meats and multiple varieties of fried empanadas.

A bit more expensive than many of the excellent parillas (grill restaurants) in the capitol city, El Mirasol's locations are a favorite lunch spot of businessmen and diplomats -- and open early for dinner (many restaurants don't even open the doors until 8 pm or later), handy for visitors not accustomed to Argentina's late night dinner hour.

The namesake flower on the restaurant's napkins. White tablecloths and careful, formal, French style service are the norm at Argentina's traditional, better restaurants. The informality of cheerful servers introduced by name has, perhaps mercifully, not caught on here.

I started with a "gaucha" (cowgirl) salad, a mix of potatoes, broad beans, beets and tomatoes all tossed in olive oil dressing. Delicious with just a sprinkle of salt.

I started, as I generally do, with grilled sweetbread -- mojellas. These were crisp and sweet and delicious -- though maybe not the mind-blowing flavor of La Brigada's version.

Another of my usual standbys. chinchulines -- grilled intestine. Though super tasty these didn't have quite the exterior crunch I crave. I think this is one dish perhaps better served in the back alley dives and lower end restaurants. It needs no dressing up.

Entraña. Grilled skirt steak. A little rare for my taste but packed with flavor.

After. Again.

A Happy Neighborhood Spot

El Sanjuanino is  place that'd be easy to miss (though no one does) if you didn't know what was hidden behind the rustic front doors. Just a short stroll from my hotel is a place generally regarded as making some of the best empanadas in Buenos Aires. And, believe me, there is a lot of competition.

I slipped in and took a chair at the last empty table.

At about $2 each these empanadas -- big pockets of flaky dough stuffed with tasty, homemade fillings -- are some of the best buys in a city bursting with food deals. I started with Carne Picante. Not nearly spicy enough for me but I can't deny the delight I felt at biting in and finding a whole un-pitted olive. El Sanjuanino revels in it's rustic nature, in both decor and recipes.

The Argentines use a knife and fork but I couldn't resist picking up the meaty pie.

 I followed my "spicy" meat empanada with an "empanada frita" -- fried not baked in the blisteringly-hot wood oven and literally bursting with juice in every bite (messy but worth it) and an onion and cheese pie practically overflowing with molten cheese.
As I marveled in the perfectly formed seals of crust a non-stop flow of locals waited at the tiled counter for endless carry out boxes of the beautifully formed pies.

 Fiercely proud of it's traditional regional dishes, El Sanjuanino features locro, a thick corn (maybe hominy) and pork stew originally from the Andes mountain range and now eaten throughout the country, especially to commemorate the anniversary of the May revolution. I hate to miss a specialty (especially a unique regional one) so I dug into a bowl thickened with beans and cornmeal and flavored by smoked meats and Argentine chorizo. This is deep, rich, almost funky strong flavor that cries out for a winter day. Not for the meek but not to be missed.

You Can't Go Home Again? Or Mistaken Ordering?

 I am no vegetarian.
My last trip to Argentina I had a mind-blowingly delicious steak at tourist and local stalwart La Brigada. Delicious though it is, La Brigada is not generally the kind of restaurant I frequent. It is fairly expensive in a country where good, affordable, delicious food is everywhere. The menu has an English translation (which generally sends me running for the hills). La Brigada is not a secret dive. The waiters are all charming, serve with a flourish and generally speak English. More strikes against it.
But, even Anthony Bourdain could not argue with the beef I remember from my last trip.

 Seated for an early lunch I quickly perused the near endless list of beef, lamb, goat cuts and offal available.

Mojellas, Argentine style grilled sweetbreads, are the food I crave and can rarely find outside of the land of the gaucho. These are maybe the best I have ever had -- and believe me, I've had them everywhere. Crisp exterior, delicate creamy interior, brought to life with just a squeeze of lemon. I think my eyes rolled back in my head after just one bite.

I should have stopped there.

 Next from the a la carte menu of grilled delights, chinchulines de cordero -- grilled lamb's intestines. Why did I decide to branch out? I usually order the beef version of these crispy, fatty, crunchy oddities and love them. The lamb version, at least as served at La Brigada,  just don't have the same depth of flavor, the same ratio of chewy to brittle, the same overwhelming whoosh of delight.

Clearly I was flustered when the waiter questioned my choice to not order, as he called it, "meat." I capitulated and allowed him to steer (no pun intended) me towards bife de chorizo, a monster sized strip loin steak.  I know better. This more than man-sized cut did not have the toothsome flavor of thinner or more exercised Argentine cuts I prefer (and will be tasting soon). In fact -- in a first for any steak I have had in this beef loving country -- La Brigada's offering was actually dry and chewy. I was so shocked I left it standing on the plate. Another first.

I blame myself. Like a restaurant rookie I ordered fast and -- in a hurry to get to an afternoon meeting, didn't order well. I'll go back to La Brigada and try again. In the meantime I will linger in the memory of the most delicious sweetbreads ever -- and make sure to order them again.