A traditional Argentine Sunday lunch is a two-course affair. The first course consists of white bread, sausages, chimichurri, black pudding, grilled cheese, chitterlings, sweetbreads, ribs, various steak cuts, potato salad and, if anyone has room for it, some dressed lettuce. The second course is fruit salad. Unless you’re a vegetarian or recovering from bariatric surgery, this is one of the world’s great meals.
For a country that takes such pride in its produce (and needs no excuse for a fiesta), it’s remarkable that Argentina’s food and drink festivals are only just gathering pace. Naturally, beef and wine are still the headline acts, but are joined by an increasing number of more specialist events. Here is a look ahead to the best Argentina festivals and fairs in 2012 aimed at the food and wine enthusiast in everyone.
A traditional Latin American Christmas is celebrated on the 24th – known as Noche Buena – not the 25th. The big meal happens after the sun starts to go down, and then it’s straight into party mode, meaning there’s a lot less time (ie none) for TV specials and charades. However, there’s plenty of time for eating.
It is well known that the riverside-dwelling people of Buenos Aires have a blind spot when it comes to fish. So, what is an omega-3-deficient fish-lover supposed to do in the city? Thankfully, It’s not all bad news. Fish is – excuse the pun – catching on. Or at least, it is in a handful of neighbourhoods frequented by foreigners and more adventurous locals. Read on to find out about the best places to get fresh fish and best pescatarian meals!
Although the differences between natural, live and organic foods are not always clear due to people’s unfamiliarity with the concepts, rest assured that cafés, restaurants, markets and shops using these terms are trying to educate the pizza-and empanada-eating brigade to show that organic Argentine food exists, even if it isn’t stamped.
When in Buenos Aires, open your eyes – and bellies – to the craze that keeps evolving: underground supper clubs. Last week I dined with an ousted cult from Alabama, a brain surgeon on sabbatical and an ex-prostitute from Amsterdam – complete with mini-me poodle (still a poodle). Welcome to the puerta cerrada (closed-door) dining…