The fastest way to make enemies in Argentina is to compare the asado to a barbecue. It’s the same, right? No, the locals will tell you, through gritted teeth, it is not the same. Your gas-fuelled blow-torching of conveyor-belt beef patties has nothing in common with our sacred asado.
Look up Argentina in the dictionary and the definition says, ʻsynonym of meatʼ. Okay, thatʼs not true. But it should be, because this country is all about the carne. Give or take a few steaks, Argentineans eat about 55kg of beef each a year. Thatʼs almost double what North Americans put away.
Two weeks ago, I was walking towards London Bridge after work through Borough Market. People in the pubs spilled out on to the pavements to make the most of the warm air. I’d stopped in a pub on the way home with a couple of friends and we were in no hurry. Then I saw Porteña (tag line: Argentinian Street Food), and I was overwhelmed with memories (it doesn’t take a lot). We perched on one of the stools outside, ordered half a dozen empanadas (dos de carne, dos de pollo y dos de jamon y queso), a bottle of Malbec (Quilmes was on offer – obvio) and I was back in Buenos Aires…
It’s easy to get carried away with the stereotypical image of Argentina as the land of red meat, but there is far more to Argentine cuisine than empanadas and steak. Which is obvious when you think of the ingredients that make up this country – Hispanic, pre-colonial and endless waves of immigrants, all mixed together in a rich stew. Scratch a little deeper and you will uncover all kinds of other influences. The country’s modern chefs have drawn on regional dishes beyond the Pampa and its famous grass-fed beef cattle…
My countdown of the 5 best steaks in Buenos Aires… Having lived in London for the past two years, steak has been largely off the menu. It’s not that steak isn’t available in London – it’s just that it’s either poor quality or will cost you a week’s rent. Sometimes both. Imagine my anticipation when my family and I arrived in Buenos Aires, the self-styled steak capital of the world…
As a Brit homesick for Argentina, it is undoubtedly the meat that I miss most (sure, friends and that, but mostly meat). But fear not: London is the place to find Argentinian restaurants that have the similar cuts, the same offal, and the perfect malbec to accompany it.
After their football team, the object of Argentines’ national pride is their meat – and they have every right to revel in one of the deadly sins. It’s widely accepted to be some of the best in the world and, as a consequence, they also indulge in another deadly sin: gluttony.
Granted, it doesn’t help that chinchulines look exactly like what they are; namely the small intestine, but these little innards are an indispensable part of that indispensable Buenos Aires experience: the asado barbecue. Closing your eyes is one tactic. Another is to quaff enough Malbec to not really care what you throw down your throat. But those who do have the, er, guts to order dangly bits of cow will be rewarded with a tasty treat, or at least a good story to tell your mates at home…