Buenos Aires (Argentina)
19 AUG 2012
Silencio es salud (Silence is health) is one of the more 'intruiging' signs that was hung on the Obelisco de Buenos Aires during the mid 70's term of the then Peronist government led by President Isabel Martinez de Peron.It was 'alleged' by government officials that the intention and placement of the sign was to act as a deterrent to motorists from creating excessive noise whilst driving along the Avenida 9 de Julio, and of course everywhere else in the city. It was widely interpreted however as a none too obvious statement by the government that any voiced disapproval of their policies and methodology would be seen as being active aggression against them and in turn could also be considered as 'potentially hazardous' to those political dissidents voicing their disapproval. Kind of ironic in a sense considering the National Reorganisation Process instigated by the military junta that came to power after their own coup of 1976, and consequentially, the instigation of their seven year Dirty War where 'forced disappearnces' of individuals on ideological grounds was considered the norm. It was a grave, and is now, an overwhelmingly suppressed period of time in the psyche of most Argentinians, the echo of which has carried on down the years and is displayed in the obvious reluctance of individuals to talk about the period. The mental scaring of the population, whilst not entirely visible, has an left an indelible mark on their society reflected sociologically within the way their organizations and institutions function, the manner in which their 'way of life' operates and also in their form of development generally. Whilst I'm not complaining about the 'way things work, I am intrigued at how historical events, and more pointedly, politically driven trauma, manifests itself within their sociological fabric. Things can turn slowly here. There is the overwhelming sense that bureaucracy has put the brakes on progress, but with that said, the passion that these people have for their families and life in general is something that's unparalleled! It's one of the things that I love about this place, and whilst it's not quite tangible it's definitely evident in their spirit.
Obelisco de Buenos Aires - Buenos Aires - Argentina
Obelisco de Buenos Aires - Buenos Aires - Argentina
Evita on Avenida 9 de Julio - Buenos Aires - Argentina
I don't know why eras such as that of the Argentine military junta from 1976-1983 fascinate me. It's kind of like the fascination that I have for Pol Pots' agrarian socialist revolution of 1975 or the Rwandan genocide of 1994. I think my interest is triggered by the dark, morbid hysteria that exists in those periods and also by how collectively, a people allowed for such atrocities to occur. I mean I know that sounds a little simplistic but an interest always needs to begin somewhere, but as always I digress.
I woke up on this Sunday morning in Buenos Aires relatively early and went out to immerse myself in my favourite BA barrio of San Telmo. Old world charm, a little bit of Paris, a little bit of Madrid, all wrapped up within its own BA style. San Telmo is one of the oldest barrios in BA, filled with deteriorating old colonial style buildings, cafes, bars, parrillas, antique stores and tango parlours. It's filled with character and the vibrancy of life. It makes me feel good just walking the streets at any time.
I woke up on this Sunday morning in Buenos Aires relatively early and went out to immerse myself in my favourite BA barrio of San Telmo. Old world charm, a little bit of Paris, a little bit of Madrid, all wrapped up within its own BA style. San Telmo is one of the oldest barrios in BA, filled with deteriorating old colonial style buildings, cafes, bars, parrillas, antique stores and tango parlours. It's filled with character and the vibrancy of life. It makes me feel good just walking the streets at any time.
San Telmo on an early Sunday morning - Buenos Aires - Argentina
San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
Calle Chile - San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
My first stop of the day was a little north of San Telmo at Casa Rosada, the official executive mansion and office of the Argentine President. A little known tidbit about the building, something that I didn't know until recently, the (pinkish/reddish) colour of the exterior comes from a mixture of limestone and bulls' blood. Apparently limestone was used to protect the exterior from speedy deterioration that would have been induced by the humidity of BA, and the bulls' blood....?? That I don't know. They're Latin, maybe that just thought it to be extremely macho or something? I checked out the museum for a little while and whilst not that entertaining it allowed me to practice my Spanish reading skills, which I must say are coming along nicely now. The location of the building is on the eastern side of Plaza Mayor which since the foundation of the city in 1580 has been the epicentre of most things politically related and is also the place where the human activist group Asociacion Madres de Plaza Mayor initially use to gather. If you wanted to know more about that group then I recommend that you look it up, it's Dirty War related, I can't really do them justice and somehow the politicized nature of their 'group' has become quite contentious.
Casa Rosada - Buenos Aires - Argentina
Casa Rosada interior - Buenos Aires - Argentina
As I tend to do in most places that I visit, I just walk. I don't ever jump on those garish double decker buses or take 'private guided' tours, I prefer a place to allow itself to wash over me in its own manner and time. So I headed up Avenida Roque Saenz Pena and hung out with that good 'ole BA landmark, Obelisco de Buenos Aires on Avenida 9 de Julio. Now for all of you that don't know, Av 9 de Julio is wide, like ridiculously wide! You could cross it in one hit but you would have to run. I've seen people bridge the gap, taking the avenue at full sprint, but realistically it'll take two shots to make it at a decent walking pace.
Sunday in San Telmo is an absolute gift. My first experience of 'ST Sundays' was quite accidental. Two years earlier my frind Dina and I had stumbled upon the Sunday 'antiques fair' that also masquerades as a market and culinary emulsion of Argentinian and indigenous cuisine. This time I was prepared for the journey down Defensa, which with Sunday hordes, market stalls, odd ball musicians and its diversity of food can literally take hours. The route from the top of Defensa to the end (to the end of the markets) is literally kilometres in length and a slow meandering walk with frequent malbec and morcipan stops is an absolute treat for someone whose dietary requirements of red wine and meat is flooded by options and opportunity here. I love it, it's as simple as that. On this day the sun is out, the smell of smokey burnt meat wafts tantalizingly over the crowds and I am in my happy place. This is exactly what I was wanting Buenos Aires to provide me, this is what my BA dreams were comprised of, and without doubt the city knows how to deliver. Of late I've come to realize that some places can just make you feel at home. They don't necessarily have to be the most attractive of cities, they just need to have soul, passion and and a bit of vibrancy. These cities send out the invites and all you need to do is RSVP.
San Telmo markets - Buenos Aires - Argentina
Masses in the markets - San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
Now that's a sausage fest! San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
Sunday in San Telmo is an absolute gift. My first experience of 'ST Sundays' was quite accidental. Two years earlier my frind Dina and I had stumbled upon the Sunday 'antiques fair' that also masquerades as a market and culinary emulsion of Argentinian and indigenous cuisine. This time I was prepared for the journey down Defensa, which with Sunday hordes, market stalls, odd ball musicians and its diversity of food can literally take hours. The route from the top of Defensa to the end (to the end of the markets) is literally kilometres in length and a slow meandering walk with frequent malbec and morcipan stops is an absolute treat for someone whose dietary requirements of red wine and meat is flooded by options and opportunity here. I love it, it's as simple as that. On this day the sun is out, the smell of smokey burnt meat wafts tantalizingly over the crowds and I am in my happy place. This is exactly what I was wanting Buenos Aires to provide me, this is what my BA dreams were comprised of, and without doubt the city knows how to deliver. Of late I've come to realize that some places can just make you feel at home. They don't necessarily have to be the most attractive of cities, they just need to have soul, passion and and a bit of vibrancy. These cities send out the invites and all you need to do is RSVP.
This guy sings for the crowds each Sunday. I took a photo of him back in 2010, and here he is two years later
San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
San Telmo on a lazy Sunday afternoon
Barney Stinson in old age - San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
The average intake of beef is around 70kg per person per year, though in the past Argentines ate even more (can you believe it!?)/ Most of this consuming takes place at the family asado, often held on Sunday in the backyards of houses all over the country .Here the art of grilling beef has been perfected. This usually involves cooking with coals and using only salt to prepare the meat and then soaking it in the ubiquitous chimmichurri, a sauce made of finely chopped parsley, garlic, chili, oil and red wine vinegar. I make my own chimmichurri these days and have my meat rest on it for a while after I've finished being all 'manly' on the grill, but that's another story.
Emerging from the family tradition of the asado is the steak house. In San Telmo you could trip over yourself and land squarely at a table in a steakhouse without trying, they're everywhere. For me that's the way life should be. Meat here is also treated in the manner that it should be, it's not tortured or 'deconstructed' or made into a 'meat foam' that you suck up through a straw. It's the real deal, it's plentiful and absolutely delicious!
In any parrillda you can get the following cuts of done to your liking, bife de chorizo (sirloin; a thick, juicy and popular cut), (bife de costilla T-bone; a cut close to the bone; also called chuleta), (bife de lomo tenderloin; a thinly cut, more tender piece),(cuadril - rump steak; often a thin cut),(ojo de bife – ribeye; a choice smaller morsel),(tira de asado – shortribs; thin strips of ribs and meat sliced crosswise),( vacío – flank steak; textured and chewy, but very tasty), and of course many, many more. On this night I head to a familiar parrilla named Don Ernesto on Carlos Calvo in San Telmo. During my last visit to BA in 2010 I had eaten here twice. The portions are insanely large, the ambience is quintessentially Argentinian and the Malbec is 'on tap', well, kind of.
Emerging from the family tradition of the asado is the steak house. In San Telmo you could trip over yourself and land squarely at a table in a steakhouse without trying, they're everywhere. For me that's the way life should be. Meat here is also treated in the manner that it should be, it's not tortured or 'deconstructed' or made into a 'meat foam' that you suck up through a straw. It's the real deal, it's plentiful and absolutely delicious!
In any parrillda you can get the following cuts of done to your liking, bife de chorizo (sirloin; a thick, juicy and popular cut), (bife de costilla T-bone; a cut close to the bone; also called chuleta), (bife de lomo tenderloin; a thinly cut, more tender piece),(cuadril - rump steak; often a thin cut),(ojo de bife – ribeye; a choice smaller morsel),(tira de asado – shortribs; thin strips of ribs and meat sliced crosswise),( vacío – flank steak; textured and chewy, but very tasty), and of course many, many more. On this night I head to a familiar parrilla named Don Ernesto on Carlos Calvo in San Telmo. During my last visit to BA in 2010 I had eaten here twice. The portions are insanely large, the ambience is quintessentially Argentinian and the Malbec is 'on tap', well, kind of.
Don Ernesto on Carlos Calvo - San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
'Oh yeah - let the meat lovin' begin!!' - Parrilla Don Ernesto - San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
I take my seat in Don Ernesto, order up a morcilla, bottle of malbec and a bife de chorizo...man oh man, I'm set to roll! As I sit waiting to be induced into my food coma I see a man walk in with his wife who takes a seat a couple of tables away. I don't know why but his manner kind of intrigued me. The following is what I wrote, word for word, whilst sitting at the table and obseving his actions.
Silencio es salud en Don Ernesto
A man walks into a parrilla, wearing a light training jacket, one which hangs elegantly over his well honed belly. His expression smacks of a certain distaste for this parrilla, not for the quality of food that it will offer but rather simply for the fact that the amount will never satisfy the enduring yearn for meat that this typical Porteno has.
Parrilla man of Don Ernesto - Like a boss!
He stands at the side of his table, master of his domain, owning his environment, an obvious goliath amongst a throng of minnows and pretenders. He unzips his tracksuit top with purpose (this is a lethal contact sport my friends, make no mistake about it, this is both serious and personal). Unlike the common parrilla jockey that would place their jacket on the back of their chair, this master of meat scrunches his up and tosses it with disdain onto the seat next to him. He won't be needing that for a while! His wife, scornful and with the shooting pain of embarrassment that only the wife of a parrilla maestro feels, admonishes him for the action. This is the only time that I see this man of meat falter. He takes the jacket back but only to scrunch it up once again and throw it onto the very same seat beside him.
What to have? The meat or the meat?
Their waiter arrives but he's nothing more than a sideshow in this carnival. This man has lived perhaps half his life in this establishment, he looks straight ahead with slight apathy and weariness. His eyes slightly glazed, he looks into the distance as his waiter almost apologetically confirms his 'usual' order.
In the moments before his 'test' commences he chats casually with his wife, looking absently at the walls surrounding him he comments;
'I've lost quite a few good men in here'
His wife looks at him squarely in the eyes, she doesn't utter a word but you can see that she's thinking 'you are such a dickhead'.
The starters arrive and a slight smirk breaches his lips. When his wife asks him 'Is it good?' his cutting look back screams 'Of course it's f$*king good, I know my food and THEY KNOW ME!' ...never the less he says nothing and just nods with absolute antipathy.
Napkin scrunched in his hand, held close to his brow, a picture of concentration, he carves through his starter like an absolute professional. A bottle of water rests on the table, unsure of its own place in the universe of this mighty man.
When the mains arrive there is complete silence, as you know, it is for the health of all. He chews deliberately. I would like to say thoughtfully but I know that would be a lie. He is agitated, he almost looks angry, knowing that his experience will be over all too soon and that his 'parrilla fix' will undoubtedly lead to an unnerving craving which will only be satisfied by a return. It's an evil cycle, perpetuated by craving, desire and the quest for the ultimate carnivorous high.
I ask for la cuenta, square myself up with the house and exit the establishment before I witness the conclusion to this epic evening. The malbec has found its way to my head and I in turn to the streets of San Telmo. For this evening my path leads elsewhere, to a place where I can lift more glasses and enjoy wild fountains of red.
A great place to end the night - La Poesia on calle Chile - San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina
