This is a pretty incredible city, not quite as I remember it but nothing ever is. It's a great mixture of European classicism and Latin American populism: Buenos Aires is like an old woman far past her prime who still chases after younger men; you know that in her prime she was the hottest little thing around and even though her physical body has decayed she still maintains that confidence, class and style imbued by that once-masterful physical shell. In a sense it's sad to see the city living so much off its past but at the same time I can't blame her: she really is beautiful!
Everything in this city bleeds Italy and Spain (something like 90% of the people have ancestors from there) but they've still managed to infuse that Latin American...there's no word for it, it's a feeling that can only be expressed with a hand gesture that makes a forty-five degree arch from the heart downward or by ... the French phrase je ne sais quoi which seems a very appropriate description for this particular situation.
Time here runs fast only when people are walking-- everything else is sloooow: the meals; the coffee; the chats; the laying-out in the parks...life in general moves at a pace more to my liking. Then again, most countries move slower that the US. It's amazing how much Americans work and how fast life there is compared to most of the world, including our European brethren. You have no idea how many times I;ve gotten a "What?" (in a tone of utter disbelief) when I say that most Americans get two or three weeks of vacation per year. It almost makes me cry. Every single time. But back to BsAs...
I compare it a lot to New York City...not so much physically (though it is incredibly dense: the city proper is about twice as dense as San Francisco proper, and half as dense as Manhattan Island) but in how both were-- and are-- magnets for people from all over the world. Definitely on different levels because NYC is unique but let me make my case.
Both cities welcomed millions of European immigrants from the 1880s (Italian unification) to the 1940s (end of WWII). When you think of the millions of Italians that arrived in NYC know that MORE arrived in BsAs. And even MORE in Sao Paolo! From a city of about 250k in the 1880, Buenos Aires proper reached 2M by 1924 and topped 3M by the end the second World War (12x larger; compare that to NYC, which increased its population by a factor of about 6 during those same years). Then there are the Spaniards, and the Germans and the Poles and those from the collapsed Ottoman Empire and and and...you get it. Even now it continues drawing hundreds of thousands of people from nearby Uruguay, Peru, Bolivia, Paraguay and Ecuador and throughout Latin America. There are tons of Europeans here and so few Americans. Latin America has a bad image in the States I guess.
I sense in both cities a shared culture of massive urbanism that incubates creativity. But it's not New York. People here aren't Italian-American. They're not "of German ancestry." They're not "Puerto Rican." Very simply, they're Argentines. It was hard for my American let's-hyphenate-your-culture mentality to grasp at first but now it makes much more sense than our system. Then again, they have very few blacks or Asians so I guess being Argentine is simpler if you all look the same!
And more...
Buenos Aires had the first subway system in the Southern Hemisphere and Latin America, having built the first line in 1913. Five more lines were built, the last in the late 30s (recall that "past its prime" jab from earlier?). They are woefully inadequate for a city of this expanse and population but the city is planning on adding a few more. This being Latin America, financial crises and corruption seem to eat away at infrastructure projects and they may never be built. Sure there are new parts of the city-- most notably Puerto Madero and some awesome skyscrapers in Palermo-- but by and large this city is full of buildings unless you tear one down there isn't room for something new. Coming from San Jose-- a city built mostly post-WWII-- BsAs appears a bizarro version, having been build up and out before the second war.
On a totally unrelated note:
I live in a neighborhood called Recoleta. Or Retiro. Or Barrio Norte. I'm still unsure as I think my apartment overlaps all three. But only the first two are real neighborhoods, while the third is becoming more common in usage but is not considered real...yet. Well, whatever. I live in one of them and it's really the nicest neighborhood within the city center (it's really an issue of centricity for me...I need access to trains, buses and subways as well as my bank and street food and parks). It doesn't have the hip shopping or the fancy clubs but it has the old money and the Hermes and Polo (which they actually play here...I've been watching a lot of it and it's actually pretty awesome) and blah blah blah from Paris or Geneve or some other European capital.
Anyway, the neighborhood ends abruptly to the east a few blocks from my apartment where it meets the train tracks. Further east of the tracks lies a tollway and beyond that the docks and the River Plate. Well, in part of that rail yard and below the tollway lies a famous villa miseria...basically a shanty town. So famous, in fact, I don't know its name and neither do you. It's where the kids who sing on the train for a few centavos come from. It's where the mother using a newborn for sympathy (also for a few centavitos)comes from. It's probably where some of the pickpockets come from. But whatever, what amazes me is how close such a large villa miseria is to the CBD, tourist zones and uppity neighborhoods.
My understanding is that it developed after the financial crisis of 2001 (Google it!) after some nouveau poivre (new poor, I just made it up!) took over excess land in the rail yard. The government, having gone through something like four presidents in a week, was in no position to force those people off the land so the people stayed and are in the process of turning cardboard into corrugated metal into brick and mortar. Now it's history. And my reality.
Crap, well I'm pretty much done here. As a constant analyzer of all things I've mostly enjoyed reliving these memories. And if I bored you along the way know that I bore myself myself in a few places, too! You can tell where because the writing will abruptly shift to a new topic without the obligatory transition sentence! I'm going to go back and add a few italics and correct the most obvious grammatical errors. The rest I will leave and call my "style." SL
29 October 2009
08 October 2009
Week 2: The Party Scene
Well, the party scene is operating a a CRAZY level. Two weeks and my brittle Californian lungs have had enough! By body is not as young as I feel, which is unfortunate, really. What follows are two examples of the party scene here, which also summarize it very aptly, for me at least.
1) My third or fourth day here I was heading out with some folks from the Hostel Carlos Gardel in San Telmo. It was already 11 and was getting pretty ancy to get the night started. The people I was going out with told me it was far too early and remained on the couch watching a movie. We agreed to meet up at La Puerta Roja a few blocks away on Chucabambo (a hostel resident worked there and gave us free drink tickets...we had to go!!).
So I headed out alone, hoping to stop in at various bars while always making my way to Chucabambo. Well, by now it must've been all of 23:15hs (I'm learning their ways-- bear with me). My first stop was El Balcon, which is a bar I'd visited on my first night: second floor of an old colonial building overlooking Plaza Dorrego, high ceilings with brightly-colored walls. I didn't even have to climb the steep and narrow stairs to know there was nothing there for me. The upper doors were locked and only one bartender had arrived.
I returned to the hostel, laid on the couch another couple of hours and headed out at about 02.00. We were still early but there was enough of a crowd to make it fun. The place peaked about 04.00 and closed near 06.00. The entire bar (seemingly) migrated around the corner to another bar where the fun continued. I barely made it to 06.00 before nearly falling asleep.
2) My roommate Heiko invited me to see a DJ who's playing at Creamfields Buenos Aires in a few weeks. We went to Levitar which is a pretty cool electronic boliche (club). We arrived at about 02.00 and it was still a bit early since the DJ didn't go on until about 03.00 or 04.00. By the time the DJ came on the place was packed. This was now a Friday morning mind you and surely most of these people had to work or go to class in a few hours.
Levitar finally threw us out at about 08.00 and some promoter offered to take us to an After, an after-party club a few blocks away. We got there and by now it was about 09.00. All of the people at Levitar who were wearing sunglasses--and who I thought were douches-- were now looking pretty effin brilliant in my eyes. The Sun was way bright and here we were standing in a long line at 09.00 on a Friday while people walked and drove to work. I felt like a bad person...and I still feel bad when I see people heading to work as I'm going home. A very crappy POS feeling.
This place was called Hummer (a massive blank-white facade with only the word Hummer written in pink neon) and it seemed to be going off. At 09.00. It turned out our promoter couldn't get us in after all but it's all for the better: I was dead tired and didn't have my shades.
So, now some drinking tips for this city:
1) Don't drink too much!
Despite drinking for hours and hours people here are very good at pacing themselves.
2) Pour foamy beer!
It's just what you do. It results in a flatter beer and changes the taste of it. For crappier beers this is actually a welcomed change.
3) Vodka+Redbull is a Vodka+Speed
They call it what it is here!
4) Fernet+Coke, the national drink.
Imagine something like Jaeger and Coke: gross, right? Yes!!! I hated it the first time, and was told I'd hate it my second time. And my third time. But by my fourth time, I'd like it. [Edit: it took five drinks for me, which others had said was the magic number. I am now in the Fernet y Cola club.]
5) You can't just weiner-in-the-butt a stranger
I saw a foreigner get slapped for doing this. Funny as hell!!! But, yeah, don't do it.
6) Smoking not allowed...
...is what the signs say. The law seems to only require establishments put up that sign but by three everyone is smoking inside. Your clothes will smell in the morning and you'll hate it.
7) Take your sunglasses out with you!
You'll be home after the Sun comes out...
8) "I'm from California"
They don't hate Americans...but they don't love us either! I get a pass because I'm "Latin" (I've been told more than once). But everyone loves California... I've been sung California Dreamin' twice!!
9) If you're a man, be prepared to use the ladies room
The men's room is used primarily for certain activities after a certain late hour...activities that keep you up, let's say. Expect it.
10) Handy beer terminology:
Shopp: pint
Porron: 12oz bottle
Litro: literbeer
1) My third or fourth day here I was heading out with some folks from the Hostel Carlos Gardel in San Telmo. It was already 11 and was getting pretty ancy to get the night started. The people I was going out with told me it was far too early and remained on the couch watching a movie. We agreed to meet up at La Puerta Roja a few blocks away on Chucabambo (a hostel resident worked there and gave us free drink tickets...we had to go!!).
So I headed out alone, hoping to stop in at various bars while always making my way to Chucabambo. Well, by now it must've been all of 23:15hs (I'm learning their ways-- bear with me). My first stop was El Balcon, which is a bar I'd visited on my first night: second floor of an old colonial building overlooking Plaza Dorrego, high ceilings with brightly-colored walls. I didn't even have to climb the steep and narrow stairs to know there was nothing there for me. The upper doors were locked and only one bartender had arrived.
I returned to the hostel, laid on the couch another couple of hours and headed out at about 02.00. We were still early but there was enough of a crowd to make it fun. The place peaked about 04.00 and closed near 06.00. The entire bar (seemingly) migrated around the corner to another bar where the fun continued. I barely made it to 06.00 before nearly falling asleep.
2) My roommate Heiko invited me to see a DJ who's playing at Creamfields Buenos Aires in a few weeks. We went to Levitar which is a pretty cool electronic boliche (club). We arrived at about 02.00 and it was still a bit early since the DJ didn't go on until about 03.00 or 04.00. By the time the DJ came on the place was packed. This was now a Friday morning mind you and surely most of these people had to work or go to class in a few hours.
Levitar finally threw us out at about 08.00 and some promoter offered to take us to an After, an after-party club a few blocks away. We got there and by now it was about 09.00. All of the people at Levitar who were wearing sunglasses--and who I thought were douches-- were now looking pretty effin brilliant in my eyes. The Sun was way bright and here we were standing in a long line at 09.00 on a Friday while people walked and drove to work. I felt like a bad person...and I still feel bad when I see people heading to work as I'm going home. A very crappy POS feeling.
This place was called Hummer (a massive blank-white facade with only the word Hummer written in pink neon) and it seemed to be going off. At 09.00. It turned out our promoter couldn't get us in after all but it's all for the better: I was dead tired and didn't have my shades.
So, now some drinking tips for this city:
1) Don't drink too much!
Despite drinking for hours and hours people here are very good at pacing themselves.
2) Pour foamy beer!
It's just what you do. It results in a flatter beer and changes the taste of it. For crappier beers this is actually a welcomed change.
3) Vodka+Redbull is a Vodka+Speed
They call it what it is here!
4) Fernet+Coke, the national drink.
Imagine something like Jaeger and Coke: gross, right? Yes!!! I hated it the first time, and was told I'd hate it my second time. And my third time. But by my fourth time, I'd like it. [Edit: it took five drinks for me, which others had said was the magic number. I am now in the Fernet y Cola club.]
5) You can't just weiner-in-the-butt a stranger
I saw a foreigner get slapped for doing this. Funny as hell!!! But, yeah, don't do it.
6) Smoking not allowed...
...is what the signs say. The law seems to only require establishments put up that sign but by three everyone is smoking inside. Your clothes will smell in the morning and you'll hate it.
7) Take your sunglasses out with you!
You'll be home after the Sun comes out...
8) "I'm from California"
They don't hate Americans...but they don't love us either! I get a pass because I'm "Latin" (I've been told more than once). But everyone loves California... I've been sung California Dreamin' twice!!
9) If you're a man, be prepared to use the ladies room
The men's room is used primarily for certain activities after a certain late hour...activities that keep you up, let's say. Expect it.
10) Handy beer terminology:
Shopp: pint
Porron: 12oz bottle
Litro: literbeer
03 October 2009
One week and counting (or: Part 1, the FOOD)
My first week in Buenos Aires came and went without fanfare or recognition. It was a bitterly cold week that saw me battle an Antarctic air every morning, afternoon and night--a battle a never came close to winning because I came prepared for Spring and its later, warmer season. I brought my heavy coat only because I had room and was under the weight limit (I came in at 47.5lbs coat, tequila and all). Even so, I managed to get sick and am still recovering; today, Friday has been the warmest day thus far and my body welcomed the warmth with new-found energy and health.
I spent most of the first three days running around town on the Subte (subway) and colectivos (buses) following dead-end leads on places to let. My main aid was Craigslist but I found most of the apartment descriptions terribly misleading; I drowned my deceptions with warm cafe con leche and medialunas. Luckily I managed to find a place-- not exactly what I'd imagined but it will be fine for now; also: I was tired of disappointment. Finding a shared apartment also gave me free time to spend with my fellow hostelers, though it did remove a reason-- a point, really-- from my daily city walks. Instead of purpose I now walked around for the purpose of others, walking with them on errands very similar to ones I'd once been slave to. (Irony: I was free of personal obligation but willingly and happily enslaved myself to those of others. I suppose it is true: when a chore is done voluntarily it stops being a chore.)
But wait, there is a point to all this, a reason for all these words I've arranged into phrases and ultimately sentences (and hopefully, more importantly, emotions). Food! Yes! Between everything I was doing with whomever I was doing it with, food was always on my peripheral vision. Of course. I've managed to try most things uniquely Porteñan (Buenos Airean) with the following notable exceptions:
Panchos (hot dogs; funny thing: the Pancho Mejicano has: jalapeños, some other hot pepper, and 4 types of hot sauce! Nothing else! Excessive but I will eat it when I have someone to impress.)
Ravioles de ricotta
Higado (liver)
Chichulines (tripe)
Mondongo (stomach stew)
Morcipan (Morcilla+pan; a blood sausage on a french roll)
I'm certain there are others I've yet to hear of, see or smell but rest assured that if it's semi-edible I will consume it (and write about it)!
Now the more extensive and very, very delicious list of what I have tried:
Milanesas: breaded veal cutlet, pan fried and usu. served with papas fritas, though also mashed potatoes. My favorite thing ever and, if you know me, you won't be surprised to learn this is the first thing I ate upon arrival!)
Empanadas: Fist-size savory pies; can be meat, chicken, cheese and ham, veggies, etc. My favorite so far has been cheese and onion.
Choripan: Chorizo+pan; a mild chorizo sausage on a french roll.
Ñoquis: Gnoccis: delicious here like everything else, especially with a light tomato sauce topped with a mild sour cream and loads of Parmesan cheese.
Bife de Lomo/ Bife de Chorizo/Vacio: Not sure what cut of meat they're from because they basically put a huge piece of meat and cut bits of it. Regardless, all of the meat here is free-range grass-fed, natural blah blah blah and primarily veal. Before you cry and call PETA on me: the young ones are DELICIOUS. Coming from a former long-time (6+ years) Vegetarian this should mean something. I will only eat baby animals from now on.
Hamburguesa AKA Hambu: Eh, a hamburger. The Suprema comes with ham, an egg, french fries, lettuce, tomatoes and cheese. Lettuce and tomatoes you say?? Yes, they double the price. I'm from California and I need my veggies! Hambus are usually served as a pair, which can be surprising to the uninitiated (but I finished them like a good Porteño would!)
Matambre: Boiled eggs, sweet peppers, olives and other goodies wrapped in what looks like flank steak and served sliced, deli style.
Jamon Crudo: Cured ham, basically the national equivalent of jamon serrano or pruiscutto.
Tortilla: A Spanish omelette; potatoes, egg and various other goodies. Served like a slice of pie.
Tarta: Torte; quiche-like with less egg and a crusty cover. Also served like a slice of pie.
Pizza: Varies by method of consumption: By-the-slice tend to be thick-crust while delivery-style are just like in the USA. Meat on pizza is not the norm.
Dressings: Salsa Golf is mayonnaise and ketchup. Mayonnaise is the same. Ketchup is different. Salsa Golf is BOMB.
Vino: The national grape is Malbec because, if anything, it's the only place in the world where it grows to its potential. I know little about wine (and I've only had bottles in the ARS$10-15 range; read: cheap) but it is good, especially with breakfast but also good with lunch, dinner or a snack. I've had it served cold once but I suspect that will become more common once summer settles in.
Quilmes: The national beer. Not very good but then again I'm spoiled. Often comes in liter bottles to share.
Chili-Bomb: Hot pepper-infused Vodka dropped into an energy drink; I was craving something spicy [see note #4 below] and a cute Porteña and Brasilera recommended it and said I wasn't a man if I hadn't had it; well I'll be God-damed if I was going to let two South America floozies tell me I wasn't a man! I took it like water and while they were trying to get the burning out of their throats I told them I was Mexican and laughed! The shoe's on the other foot or something. I don't recommend it but I will buy you one if you come down here!
Notes on FOOD:
#1: The Parrillas, small hole-in-walls in poorer barrios are where you find good and cheap poor-people food, which is really the best there is. This is where Choripans, Morcipans, Vacipans are found. My favorite places so far and the one place where public drunkeness seems acceptable (well, until a woman shows up at which point the screaming drunks are warned to behave because there's a lady in the room. They stubbornly oblige and proceed--in a fruitless attempt-- to romance the woman regardless of age or attractiveness.)
#2: Delis offer a mixture of Italian and Spanish meat options and French cheeses. Not surprising given that everyone here is either of Spanish or Italian heritage and everyone looks up to the French, as they should, culinarily-speaking.
#3: The fruit and vegetable racket it run exclusively by Bolivians; if not for them I wonder if there'd even be any fruits and veggies here. I've hear rumors they control the supply of peppers in town so I am trying to befriend them.
#4: Nothing here is spicy and I'm having trouble locating peppers and/or sauces (see #3). If you'd like to send me either write and I'll send my address.
#5: I haven't yet explored ethnic foods here but surely I will get to them. Then again, what I thought was an inherent bodily need for Mexican, Vietnamese and Japanese foods has yet to materialize, and maybe never will. But I will fo' sho' hit up the Arab Shwarma shop this weekend and "borrow" any hot sauce they may have. Or maybe the Superpancho mejicano dealers are who I have to go through...
#6: Meat is generally as cheap as fruits; house wine is generally cheaper than soda or water. Adding lettuce and tomatoes to a ham and cheese sandwich, for example, will nearly double its price. House wines are always a peso or two cheaper than sodas or water.
#7: Veggie options abound. Pasta are always a delicious option; empanadas are always available without meat; hell even Mickey D's and BK offer soy burgers, something they don't even offer in Vegetarian-friendly California!
#8: There's an obvious and glaring lack of coverage concerning "sweets." Reason: I'm not a sweets kind of guy. But if they're your thing trust me: there are shops dedicated to confectionaries and everything looks absolutely gorgeous and is made fresh daily.
#9: Buenos Aires has a large Jewish population and is in many respects similar to NYC in that they received large waves of European immigrants during the same time periods and from similar places. But unlike NYC, there doesn't appear to be much of a Jewish culinary impact, and by "impact" I mean "Where are the freakin' Jewish delis because I'm dying for a Katz-like pastrami sandwich!!!!"
What I know is this: I've eaten consistently better here than anywhere else. The food here is by no means cheap, but a huge plate of gnocci and a glass of cheap wine makes me happier than a five, five dollar, Five Dollar Footlong. SL
I spent most of the first three days running around town on the Subte (subway) and colectivos (buses) following dead-end leads on places to let. My main aid was Craigslist but I found most of the apartment descriptions terribly misleading; I drowned my deceptions with warm cafe con leche and medialunas. Luckily I managed to find a place-- not exactly what I'd imagined but it will be fine for now; also: I was tired of disappointment. Finding a shared apartment also gave me free time to spend with my fellow hostelers, though it did remove a reason-- a point, really-- from my daily city walks. Instead of purpose I now walked around for the purpose of others, walking with them on errands very similar to ones I'd once been slave to. (Irony: I was free of personal obligation but willingly and happily enslaved myself to those of others. I suppose it is true: when a chore is done voluntarily it stops being a chore.)
But wait, there is a point to all this, a reason for all these words I've arranged into phrases and ultimately sentences (and hopefully, more importantly, emotions). Food! Yes! Between everything I was doing with whomever I was doing it with, food was always on my peripheral vision. Of course. I've managed to try most things uniquely Porteñan (Buenos Airean) with the following notable exceptions:
Panchos (hot dogs; funny thing: the Pancho Mejicano has: jalapeños, some other hot pepper, and 4 types of hot sauce! Nothing else! Excessive but I will eat it when I have someone to impress.)
Ravioles de ricotta
Higado (liver)
Chichulines (tripe)
Mondongo (stomach stew)
Morcipan (Morcilla+pan; a blood sausage on a french roll)
I'm certain there are others I've yet to hear of, see or smell but rest assured that if it's semi-edible I will consume it (and write about it)!
Now the more extensive and very, very delicious list of what I have tried:
Milanesas: breaded veal cutlet, pan fried and usu. served with papas fritas, though also mashed potatoes. My favorite thing ever and, if you know me, you won't be surprised to learn this is the first thing I ate upon arrival!)
Empanadas: Fist-size savory pies; can be meat, chicken, cheese and ham, veggies, etc. My favorite so far has been cheese and onion.
Choripan: Chorizo+pan; a mild chorizo sausage on a french roll.
Ñoquis: Gnoccis: delicious here like everything else, especially with a light tomato sauce topped with a mild sour cream and loads of Parmesan cheese.
Bife de Lomo/ Bife de Chorizo/Vacio: Not sure what cut of meat they're from because they basically put a huge piece of meat and cut bits of it. Regardless, all of the meat here is free-range grass-fed, natural blah blah blah and primarily veal. Before you cry and call PETA on me: the young ones are DELICIOUS. Coming from a former long-time (6+ years) Vegetarian this should mean something. I will only eat baby animals from now on.
Hamburguesa AKA Hambu: Eh, a hamburger. The Suprema comes with ham, an egg, french fries, lettuce, tomatoes and cheese. Lettuce and tomatoes you say?? Yes, they double the price. I'm from California and I need my veggies! Hambus are usually served as a pair, which can be surprising to the uninitiated (but I finished them like a good Porteño would!)
Matambre: Boiled eggs, sweet peppers, olives and other goodies wrapped in what looks like flank steak and served sliced, deli style.
Jamon Crudo: Cured ham, basically the national equivalent of jamon serrano or pruiscutto.
Tortilla: A Spanish omelette; potatoes, egg and various other goodies. Served like a slice of pie.
Tarta: Torte; quiche-like with less egg and a crusty cover. Also served like a slice of pie.
Pizza: Varies by method of consumption: By-the-slice tend to be thick-crust while delivery-style are just like in the USA. Meat on pizza is not the norm.
Dressings: Salsa Golf is mayonnaise and ketchup. Mayonnaise is the same. Ketchup is different. Salsa Golf is BOMB.
Vino: The national grape is Malbec because, if anything, it's the only place in the world where it grows to its potential. I know little about wine (and I've only had bottles in the ARS$10-15 range; read: cheap) but it is good, especially with breakfast but also good with lunch, dinner or a snack. I've had it served cold once but I suspect that will become more common once summer settles in.
Quilmes: The national beer. Not very good but then again I'm spoiled. Often comes in liter bottles to share.
Chili-Bomb: Hot pepper-infused Vodka dropped into an energy drink; I was craving something spicy [see note #4 below] and a cute Porteña and Brasilera recommended it and said I wasn't a man if I hadn't had it; well I'll be God-damed if I was going to let two South America floozies tell me I wasn't a man! I took it like water and while they were trying to get the burning out of their throats I told them I was Mexican and laughed! The shoe's on the other foot or something. I don't recommend it but I will buy you one if you come down here!
Notes on FOOD:
#1: The Parrillas, small hole-in-walls in poorer barrios are where you find good and cheap poor-people food, which is really the best there is. This is where Choripans, Morcipans, Vacipans are found. My favorite places so far and the one place where public drunkeness seems acceptable (well, until a woman shows up at which point the screaming drunks are warned to behave because there's a lady in the room. They stubbornly oblige and proceed--in a fruitless attempt-- to romance the woman regardless of age or attractiveness.)
#2: Delis offer a mixture of Italian and Spanish meat options and French cheeses. Not surprising given that everyone here is either of Spanish or Italian heritage and everyone looks up to the French, as they should, culinarily-speaking.
#3: The fruit and vegetable racket it run exclusively by Bolivians; if not for them I wonder if there'd even be any fruits and veggies here. I've hear rumors they control the supply of peppers in town so I am trying to befriend them.
#4: Nothing here is spicy and I'm having trouble locating peppers and/or sauces (see #3). If you'd like to send me either write and I'll send my address.
#5: I haven't yet explored ethnic foods here but surely I will get to them. Then again, what I thought was an inherent bodily need for Mexican, Vietnamese and Japanese foods has yet to materialize, and maybe never will. But I will fo' sho' hit up the Arab Shwarma shop this weekend and "borrow" any hot sauce they may have. Or maybe the Superpancho mejicano dealers are who I have to go through...
#6: Meat is generally as cheap as fruits; house wine is generally cheaper than soda or water. Adding lettuce and tomatoes to a ham and cheese sandwich, for example, will nearly double its price. House wines are always a peso or two cheaper than sodas or water.
#7: Veggie options abound. Pasta are always a delicious option; empanadas are always available without meat; hell even Mickey D's and BK offer soy burgers, something they don't even offer in Vegetarian-friendly California!
#8: There's an obvious and glaring lack of coverage concerning "sweets." Reason: I'm not a sweets kind of guy. But if they're your thing trust me: there are shops dedicated to confectionaries and everything looks absolutely gorgeous and is made fresh daily.
#9: Buenos Aires has a large Jewish population and is in many respects similar to NYC in that they received large waves of European immigrants during the same time periods and from similar places. But unlike NYC, there doesn't appear to be much of a Jewish culinary impact, and by "impact" I mean "Where are the freakin' Jewish delis because I'm dying for a Katz-like pastrami sandwich!!!!"
What I know is this: I've eaten consistently better here than anywhere else. The food here is by no means cheap, but a huge plate of gnocci and a glass of cheap wine makes me happier than a five, five dollar, Five Dollar Footlong. SL
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