I spent this Saturday afternoon in Uruguay, strolling around the (aptly named) colonial town of Colonia. (Really it’s Colonia del Sacramento, but I have yet to hear one person call it such.)

I suppose that when I learned international geography back in the 7th grade (I still remember some of the mnemonic devices we were taught), somewhere in the back of my mind I always knew there was a chance I would end up visiting Argentina. At least I had heard of it before - my best friend’s parents were from Buenos Aires. But I confess that there was no part of me that ever expected to be in Uruguay. Since then I’ve learned many things, however, one of which is that Uruguay seems to be to Argentina what Canada is to the United States; it shares a border and a language but is a separate nation - in government, history, currency, and (presumably) culture. Although I’m not entirely sure how, or why.

(I apologize to any Uruguayans reading this, and Canadians. I’m not above the occasional cultural generalization - but please do feel free to chime in and correct me. Or to tell me to screw off.)

As I usually do when I’m in a new place, I decided to sample the local fare for lunch; in this case it was a ‘chivito’ - one of the few things on the menu that I haven’t seen around Buenos Aires. And in a rare linguistic difference between Argentina and Uruguay, if you do order chivito in a restaurant on this side of the River Plate you are ordering baby goat - NOT this sandwich. When it arrived at the table and got my mouth watering, I decided it was time to write a little bit about what I’ve been eating down here. This is what my chivito looked like:

I’m sure that some of you will find this image and the idea of eating what it depicts to be a turnoff. I tell you, however, that if there is one thing I learned from this chivito it is that sometimes, contrary to my instinct, you CAN just pile everything you want to eat on one plate; or, in this case - one sandwich. If you can’t make out the details here, this work of Uruguayan culinary art contains lomo, ham, bacon, lettuce, tomato, cheese, and a fried egg. I made a complete mess of everything, but it was TASTY. The lomo is the South American kind, rather than Spanish - beef tenderloin instead of pork. And yes, I did accompany it with a salad. I’m not a total masochist - I can only justify eating as I do down here by having some greens everyday.

Normally, at lunch here in BA, the salad is my excuse for a plate of empanadas, part of my ongoing quest to find the best ones in town. Every culture I can think of has its version of dough-filled goodness, from samosas to calzones, pierogies to spring rolls. (Or wontons - I’m not sure which is a more appropriate example from China). To complicate matters further, every country within the Spanish speaking world has its own take on the empanada. (For a more in-depth comparison, the link will take you to Wikipedia.) For several years now, my favorite of all of the above has been the classic Argentine kind, thanks in part to Cafe Novecento, one of the best Argentine restaurants in New York, and part of small chain that is also in Buenos Aires, Cordoba, Punta del Este, and Miami.

What I’ve learned here, however, to both my dismay and my pleasure, is that there IS no ‘classic Argentine empanada.’ There are regional differences that I am still struggling to get to the bottom of; I have yet to eat two that have the same shell, or the same filling. The dough runs the gambit from pizza dough to puff-pastry; the inside can be meat, chicken, ham and cheese, ‘humita-’ which is corn with a mysterious white sauce, vegetables, or any number of other ingredients. The meat can be ground or cubed, spicy or ’suave;’ a driving part of my ‘research’ here is to find some that is actually spicy. This is not Mexico… while I love both the people and the food here, they tend to be wussy about the heat.

As far as I’ve noticed, the only real common denominator between Argentine empanadas is the use of an oven in their preparation, rather than a fryer. This is what I love most about them - in the best of cases, they are even baked in the ‘horno de barro,’ the wood-burning oven, which gives the shell a great smoky crispiness and is a large factor in my addiction. The size also tends to stay pretty consistent - they are relatively large.

Here’s another photo, the Argentine counterpart of the above chivito lunch shot. Yes, I’m aware that it’s almost identical… what can I say, I like to sample the local brew as well. I usually save the vino for dinner.

My evening meal, on the other hand, normally looks nothing like this. Most common in my dinner diet, and apparently that of the rest of the country, are grilled meat and pizza. Pizza and pasta are ubiquitous here - constant reminders of the Italian influence; the meat is without argument some of the best on the planet, and is also the keystone of Argentina’s culinary reputation. It has been fascinating to learn that meat is as common as it is here not because of the quality, but rather because of the price. It is simply the most accessible protein here, which has been hard to wrap my North-American head around, especially as familiar as I am with the New York steakhouse culture, where a quality steak can run anywhere from $20 to $60 (US) in a restaurant. In Buenos Aires, despite the booming restaurant scene and crazy inflation, it is still literally impossible to pay more than $20 for a steak, in the best restaurants in town. A decent salad can be almost as expensive as a prime piece of meat - and I’m not exaggerating here. Not to mention that the beef is all from free-range, grass-fed cows, the kind that is both hard to find and bank-breaking in the United States. Of course this also explains how good they are at preparing it.

For a more in-depth and better educated exploration of the food here, I highly recommend you take a look at SaltShaker, Dan Pearlman’s blog about food, drink, and life in Buenos Aires. He is a talented chef who has been at it for much longer than I have - both the writing and the living in BA. We had lunch together the other day, and we both ordered empanadas as soon as we sat down.

I hope I’ve made your mouth water, and made you want to come share a meal with me in Buenos Aires. I’m certainly starving now- it’s definitely time for lunch. You all know what I’m going to eat.

November 11th, 2007 | gastronomia