Over Semana Santa, my husband and I left behind the never-ending summer in Santiago and jetted to the end of the South American continent. Patagonia. This was my seventh trip to the region, and people appeared to be stumped what I could possibly be doing there again. Why do you go to Alaska, or the fjords of Norway, or the Grand Canyon? Nature. To experience a pristine, untouched corner of the world. Mountains, Ice, Fjords. Hiking, biking, walking, kayaking, horseback riding, and panoramic vistas at every bend. Being a city girl, sometimes it’s necessary to get into Mother Nature– touch her, feel her, hear her, see her, appreciate her. It’s therapy for urban living.

We flew to the southernmost city in Chile, Punta Arenas and traveled across the windblown estepa from the Straits of Magellan to the town of Puerto Natales, nearly three hours away on the Fjord of Last Hope. Destination? The newish hotel, The Singular Patagonia, which hugs the shores of the fjord in historic Puerto Bories. The handsome brick factory built in 1915, now a historical monument, has been expertly “recycled” using environmentally friendly architecture to transform the old frigorífico, cold-storage space, which originally exported mutton to Europe. Tall ceilings, large picture windows, and warm light stream into the space and fill it with warmth and coziness, reflected in its cushy furniture and leather armchairs, inviting you to linger over your Cabernet and a book.

While you could certainly knock yourself out with one excursion after the other, this hotel was relaxing and we were grateful for a quiet rainy day-turned-snowstorm on Good Friday. As the snow came down with fury, we cozied in our hotel room drinking red wine and reading a book. I went to sweat in the Turkish steam bath—with a view. There’s something comforting about being inside, warm, and safe when the elements are so brutal outside. We dined on perfectly seared guanaco fillet (cousin of Alpaca), wild hare in escabeche, succulent sea scallops, Patagonian hake with crispy skin, and fresh, organic vegetables. And a lot of wine. Considering our far-flung location, I could hardly believe the wine picks like Casa Marin Pinot Noir, Lapostolle Sauvignon Blanc, and even Miguel Torres Santa Digna Estelado, a pink sparkler made from the Mission grape.

That Saturday, we crossed the border into Argentina at Cerro Castillo towards El Calafate. As we moved though the Argentine estepa, we left behind the fall colors, trees, and mountains and traversed miles of wide open pampas. Argentine Patagonia is predominantly an arid, cold desert tinged by specs of mata negra and coirón grasses, giving the appearance of a golden carpet as the sun’s rays shown down on the terrain.

We snaked towards El Calafate, catching a shimmer of the intensely turquoise Lago Argentino. In the distance, the jagged peaks of El Chaltén (or Fitz Roy) rose like daggers, Argentina’s equivalent of Torres del Paine. As we descended towards civilization, our driver mentioned that the province of Santa Cruz is Kirchnerland. That’s right, the home province of the late Nestor and currently very “noted” Cristina Kirchner, Argentina’s president.

We arrived at Eolo, secluded in the windswept Anita Valley about 25 minutes from town. The mountain peaks were dusted with snow like powdered sugar, the distant memory of Friday’s snowstorm. Modeled on a classic sheep estancia, Eolo’s architecture pays homage to the old estancias with corrugated zinc walls and gabled roofs. Eolo is the perfect refuge from the elements of these latitudes of the earth.

The interior showcases plush textiles and earthy tones to contrast the beautiful, parched scenery outside through picture windows where your eyes never tire of the landscape. Eolo felt warm, comfy, delightfully homey yet sophisticated. Although blustery, we trekked up the hill, Cerro Frías, behind the hotel to discover dozens of wild hares, the farm’s resident calves, and horses grazing for a dazzling view of the lake and Torres del Paine in the distance.

The next morning, we headed for the Perito Moreno glacier, one of the few glaciers that are stable (that is, not receding). Part of the Patagonian ice field, the third largest in world after Antarctica and Greenland, we signed up to do a trek on the glacier. To be honest, I was not sure how this would go over…let’s see, strap on some ice skates and go Mountain climbing. Hmm…

I did it. The trek made me appreciate the immensity of the glacier, however, it’s not a sport I will be taking up anytime soon (hello, big crevices!). The texture of the ice surprised me as to felt like hiking on a bunch of crush ice cubes. The glacier is certainly alive and in motion. As we hiked, the azure ice had intricate rivers flowing, pools, and even caverns carved from the water.

As we returned to Eolo, exhausted from the hike and overdose of fresh, cold air, the sun peeped through the clouds casting golden spotlights on the fields where sheep pastured peacefully. The clouds shifted and the sun shone, like a spotlight, on the steep hills, illuminating them in large swaths of yellow and orange. We delighted back at the lodge in afternoon tea with pistachio macaroons as the wind howled. As fickle as the weather can be in Patagonia, the only true constant is the wind. It can be as gentle as a tickle, shrill as a banchi, or even assaulting, shaking the window panes.

The morning we returned to Chile, we were blessed with the most magnificent sunrise. The dark, eastern sky slowly filled with threads of intense pink, orange, and purple as the sun announced its daily arrival. It was a grand show, on par with an opera or any concert. I sat there with my espresso in complete awe. It was one of those fleeting moments that no picture can do justice. The midnight blue waters of the lake slowly took its greenish hue, and this corner of Earth moved into daylight. Perhaps that is the true magic of Patagonia. It reconnects every single one of us back to nature’s magic. The only objective of our days there were to contemplate and appreciate the beauty of this planet we are so fortunate to live on. I, for one, always return from Patagonia feeling tremendously grateful.

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One of the things that I most love about living in South America is the street food. Those roadside stands, the market tables, and the hawkers are such a huge part of the eating experience here.  Here’s my short list of my favorite street foods from Peru, Chile, Argentina, Uruguay, and Brazil.  Go to a place recommended by someone’s who food opinion you trust, or use common sense as to the cleanliness of the vendor and freshness of the food, which can never hide. Just writing this post is making me hungry.

Chile

On any given morning at La Vega you’ll see a crowd of people gathered around stands where short women, roll out orange-colored dough into disks. Tossed into hot oil, they float to the top in the bubbling oil and handed to you on a skewer. This, my friends, is Chile’s favorite street food called sopaipillas. Fleshy orange pumpkin (always savory, never sweet) is cooked, mashed, and needed into the dough for a delicious, fluffy, savory taste. How do they like it? Laced with racy pebre, chili sauce tinged with cilantro and onions.

Many corners are makeshift restaurants pumping out colossial sandwiches and the ubiquitous completos, hot dogs with the works. Take one skinny hot dog, plus a bun, and see how much chopped tomato (1/2 cup), mashed avocado (2/3 cup), and mayo (1/4 cup) it can possibly hold without falling apart under its own weight. Then, try to eat it—gracefully. These babies are, for a reason, the much-beloved post-partying food.

During warm weather, Chileans have an internal thermometer that soars with the mercury in the afternoon. They don’t reach for Iced Tea or Lemonade here. No, no, no. Head out into the downtown area and carritos hawking mote con huesillo are on just about every corner. It’s the ice cold juice made from sundried peaches that make this drink magic.

Peru

Peruvian street food always feels like a party since there’s so much flavor happening in every bite.  Anticuchos are arguably a gastronomic subculture throughout the country where people line up in the early evening to sink their teeth into tender, rich beef heart marinated in the most umami-licious concoction of flavors your palate could every imagine. And grilled over open flames. So. Damn. Good. If you’re a vegetarian, I am really sorry because this is one of those food rites of passage in Peru where there’s a clear before and after.

A close second favorite of mine are tamales. Always made fresh in the morning, the vendors (usually women) sit tucked away in corners selling these steamed, hot treasures (all made with fresh, non GMO Peruvian corn). They sell out like hot cakes. There are two types—salado or dulce. The savory version has chili, onions, a bit of meat, and an olive while the sweet one has raisins. Why they don’t have whole bakeries making these abroad yet is beyond me. I am totally addicted to them.

While I could go on about ceviche, a given in Lima and most of the country, most curious is that in the highlands, or La Sierra, locals l-o-v-e to snack on hard-boiled quail’s eggs. It’s not uncommon in the Sacred Valley to see vendors shelling quail’s eggs and selling six of them for a sole (about US$.30).

Brazil

 The last time I spent a day on Ipanema beach in Río de Janeiro, many moons ago, I marveled at how everything I needed in life magically appeared on my canga, Brazilian beach towel. Forget your SPF? No problem. Stepped on your sunnies (shitttt!)? Check out 100 designer knock-offs. Hungry? Why, yes. Very. How about some skewers of juicy, just-off-the-grill camarão (shrimp) with an ice-cold beer and touch of lime. Now these guys are really reading my mind.

Beyond the beaches, I became enchanted by pastéis, a form of the empanada brought to Brazil by the Portugese. I have brilliant memories of walking through the Saturday market in Jardins (São Paulo) to stop at a stand pumping out the crunchiest, most delicious ones ever I have had tasted. The secret? The fry-master swore that the touch of cachaça, a local firewater, in the dough made it crisp–it does, tested in our cookbook. The crunchy outside encased dynamo fillings like shredded chicken breast with gooey catupiry cheese, or prawns with a touch of spice and chunks of tender palm hearts.

In northern Brazil, particularly the state of Bahia, aracajé was brought by with the slaves from Western Africa, sold on the streets of Bahia by freed female slaves. This bean cake is a mixture of mashed black-eyed beans, onions and shrimp fried in dendê (palm oil). Palm oil, amigos, is not for the faint of heart. It’s incredibly aromatic, heavy on your stomach, and artery blocking. Let’s suppose you’ve thrown health precautions to the wind and want to eat it following local custom. Have the baiana de aracajé dress your bean cake with spicy, shrimpy  pastes, like vatapá and caruru, after it’s been halved. Top it off with a crunchy, fresh salad.

Uruguay

Wandering the streets of Montevideo (and in all fairness, other South American capitals), you suddenly sense a perfume of nutty, caramel-laden goodness. Where is that coming from?? On the corner, you see a guy doing magic in a copper pot as sugar is transformed into caramel. Roasted peanuts are gently coated as he tosses them with a mesmerizing, efficient movement. Once cooled, garrapiñada turns into little bites of love. They really hit all the right notes you crave in a snack: crunchy, toasty, sweet, salty in each tiny bite.

Also inherited from the Spanish is the love for churros, the European equivalent of a long, tubular doughnut. Churros wagons show up in many parks (where there are kids, of course), typically stuffed with dulce de leche or dusted with cinnamon-sugar. Or take them home and try dipping them in your hot chocolate.

Empanadas may not be original to Montevideo, they’re prolific throughout South America, but there’s one stop that’s a must when you’re in Cuidad Vieja. El Rincón, on the corner of Rincón and Zabala, specializes in 15 flavors of empanadas with decidedly Uruguayan flavors. Try the ham with hearts of palm and salsa golf (mayo with ketchup), this unusual sauce that people go crazy over. How about the capresse with artisan mozzarella, fresh tomato and albahaca, a nod to the heavy Italian heritage? All baked, by the way.

Argentina

Argentina and Uruguay have a lot of overlap in some street foods like the above-said garrapiñada and empanadas. However, when in Argentina, meat is king. Understandably, there are stands offering a parrilla, full grill, for the working folks of the city who don’t have time to stop for lunch or go light up the grill. Porteños love to down choripan (sausage sandwich) and vacipan (flank steak sandwich) straight off the flames. Or try an on-the-go, milanesa, a bread-coated, crunchy steak stuffed in a roll. Dose any of the above options with copious amounts of chimichurri and salsa criolla to hit multiple pleasure centers.

Often, while not technically street food since sold in joints, a slice of Buenos Aires-style pizza like fugazza, a type of pizza made without tomato sauce and topped with onions; or fainá, a flat bread made with garbanzo flour are favorite snacks.

Have fun exploring!

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December. Again. This year, the months passed as if they were weeks, but it has been awesome. Busy. Productive. Fun.

I´m always in favor of New Year’s resolutions and defining my yearly goals to achieve, but before setting off on that exercise, I take a moment to reflect on the year that I have just lived. Save those memories and highlights.

This post is a ranking of what most impacted and inspired me in flavors, wines, meals, places, trips, books, and experiences. It was not easy to choose. Honestly, I feel so grateful every day to be able to make a living from my passion, work with my husband, and share that with with the world. There are so many options. However, after thinking about this for a while, of course, I came up with the finalists.

Three memorable meals in the US: 1) Rasika in Washington DC is by far the best contemporary Indian food that has tantalized my palate as of late. Best. Chaat. Ever. 2) Spoon Thai in Chicago. My brother took me here, and although they speak very broken English, I quickly learned that what’s spicy for Thai, is something I cannot hack (call the fire department my taste buds are ablaze…). I did have an epiphany though with their Tom Kha soup. 3) Hugo’s in Houston. If I lived in Houston, you’d have to peel me away from this place which serves authentic Oaxacan cuisine at brunch, from chilaquiles to mole. Two lethal margaritas on the rocks lead to a fuzzy afternoon and siesta.

Three memorable meals in South America: 1) Last year I celebrated my 34th birthday at Osaka in the W Santiago. It was a parade of one sexy sushi fusion roll after another, and tiraditos that melted in my mouth. Heaven. 2) One freezing cold June afternoon in Buenos Aires at Brasserie Petanque in San Telmo, I ate the best steak tartar in my life. This dish is why I will never be vegetarian in this lifetime. 3) Gardenia in Montevideo, Uruguay is a nuevo resto by a young chef couple from Spain & Brazil. Its fun, edgy gastronomy that rewrites the rules and pushes the envelope with its traditional yet innovative flavores and textures.

Best road trip: Crossing from Awasi in San Pedro de Atacama over the altiplano (by vehicle) to Purmamarca, in Northwestern Argentina. On our vuelta, we went through Salta and its stunning canyons and charming adobe towns of Cafayate, Colomé and Cachi. This landscape bewitched me and made me fall madly in love again with South America and it’s amazing diversity.

Best surprises: 1) My birthday present #34 from my husband. 2) Business trips to the States that coincided with seeing my entire family in Chicago, Pennsylvania, and Florida. At times, I miss having everybody so spread out and far away.

Biggest challenge: At the Epcot Food & Wine Festival, among the events, I had to prep and serve food  for 1,000  people at the famous “Party of the Senses.” This was in huge scale not only in food, but in navigating the mammoth industrial kitchen and managing a team of willing interns. I didn’t think too much, I just crushed it.

Favorite new cuisine discovered: Korean food is driving me crazy. I am addicted to it. Kimchi. Bulgogi. Kimbap. Ddeokbukki. Fortunately, Little Korea is only three blocks away in Patronato.

Best new cookbook: Only one? Darn, that’s hard. Ok… Alice Waters, The Art of Simple Food. The queen of the organic/fresh food movement shares her easy techniques to transmute ingredients and respect their noble origin. I love it because Chile has the most amazing produce (like California) which needs little to no doctoring. AND, I just got a huge mortero, mortar-and-pestle made from volcanic rock for Christmas. Forget the food processor, now I can grind it all up in the Stone, which Waters suggests. Yay!

Three words to describe 2011: Growth. Believe. Enjoy.

Three words to describe the culinary scene in Chile: Effervescent. Blossoming. Diversifying.

Three most memorable wines consumed in 2011: This was pure agony…but I did it. Chateau Haut-Bailly 2005; Chateau Cos D’Estournel  2000; Polkura G + i 2008.

Best new discovery in Chilean wine: Miguel Torres Santa Digna Estelado made with the País grape.

Favorite new ingredient: Mapuche pepper from the Canelo, cinnamon, tree.

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Grill Master, “Pelado,” from Estancia el Colibri in Córdoba, Argentina prepares his asado.

As a cook and foodie jumping between Chile, Argentina, and Uruguay on a regular basis, it has taken me a while to finally hash out the difference in cuts between what I grew up with in the US, what I prepare  in Chile, and what I dine on when in Argentina & Chile. Cuts of beef do considerably vary from country to country, so my intent in this post is to create this free chart as a resource for those of you scratching your head every time you head to the supermarket, an asado, or eat in a parrilla, grill.  This is NOT a discussion of grilling techniques, that’s another post entirely.

One cut that did not have an exact translation was Malaya and Matahambre. In the Southern Cone, they create tight rolls out of this flap of meat over the ribs, and stuff it with carrots, spinach, roasted red pepper, hard boiled egg, and poach it for a couple hours since it’s a tough cut of meat. You’ll commonly see it sliced down for cold cuts in delis or markets.

Another thing that also confuses the heck out of everyone is the doneness for steaks when dining out. There is nothing more tragic than a beautiful cut of grass-fed beef being transformed into a piece of shoe leather when it had all the potential to produce ecstasy for a carnivore. If you like your steak bleu, literally grilled 1 minute on each side, you can ask for it the same way in Chile & Argentina.

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www.gardeniamvd.com

I am at the end of what can only be described as one of those spectacular meals. You know … where you stop to take copious notes and numerous pictures (some call it food porn, I call it memories). The flavors, textures, sensations, all meld together into one warm, fuzzy, wine-induced meal full of love. I am quietly sitting here sipping on the last drops of a velvety, feminine Merlot from the boutique winery Casa Filgueira. I am not in Buenos Aires, nor Santiago, nor Lima, not even Sao Paulo. Nope, I am in the most unexpected, and perhaps most under-the-radar, up-and-coming foodie destination in South America: Montevideo, Uruguay.

Where did I have this gastronomic enlightenment in a city typically known for asado, asado y más asado?  Gardenia.

My day didn’t start out this good. After a meeting with fellow food writer Clara OCampo from El Gastronauta the night before, she raved about this stylish new spot breaking all the clichés with what Montevideanos love to eat: grilled meat, salad, a lot of potatoes, and most definitely nothing too spicy.

Enter Gardenia. In this newish restaurant, two foreign chefs both in their early 30s, armed with international culinary experience and a lot of ganas and passion, had come to Uruguay to innovate, educate, open, and dazzle the local palates.

I decided I would go at lunch. It was a beautiful, warm fall day so I took my time walking along the Rambla as the sun reflected off the bluish waters of the Rio de la Plata. From Pocitos, I trekked up a hill to an area coined as “World Trade Center” (why is there a World Trade Center in every Latin capital?). Clustered around a central plaza of tall office buildings, the upscale restaurants obviously catered to the lunch and dinner crowd. I entered following the sign towards what I thought was Gardenia. I surveyed the ambience. Not exactly what I would define as stylish, a bit ornate (dragons everywhere), but maybe that’s my taste.

Lunch was a mediocre glass of Tannat, an ok piece of lenguado (sole), a soggy salad, and when they served me macedonia as dessert, I just about lost it. Seriously, what a bad rec?! Well, it all became crystal clear when I got the bill. In fact, I nearly died. I was in Gardenia’s neighbors. I could hardly believe my stupidity in having wasted a meal on that place. Annoyed at myself, I stormed into Gardenia, next door, and immediately recognized my error. The space was luminous, spacious with high ceilings, jazz playing in the background and an instantly refined, warm vibe. S-h-i-t Liz.

Photo: www.gardeniamvd.com

Marina is certainly not alone in this project. Her husband, also the chef, Raúl Florenza, decided to expand the Gardenia brand, already successful in Marina’s hometown of Sao Paulo with three restaurants in Gabriel, Pinheiros, and Alphaville. Why Montevideo? Why Uruguay? When asked, they cited being tired of the big city Paulista life, a city of 18+ million people. They were looking for someplace close yet different, tranquilo, maybe have a family, a place to innovate. Ballsy? Making any international (business) move is, but I would say Uruguay was particularly daring. Uruguayans are particularly traditional when it comes to their food and opening their social circles to foreigners. After all, it’s a small country. All of Uruguay’s populations wouldn’t even make up 1/6 of Sao Paulo, to put it in numbers.

Marina and Raúl bring together a fascinating mix of cuisines: Mediterranean, Spanish, Brazilian, and make the most of the local, seasonal ingredients. Is it eclectic and adventuresome? Yes, enough to be constantly interesting, but not to provoke fear of the unknown in the diner. What most caught my attention were the details. There was a constant focus on contrasting, bright flavors, textures, temperatures and colors. A constant pushing and pulling so that with every forkful, spoonful, or sip (the wine, of course), there was a new layer to be discovered. Savory, thoughtful creations that provoked umami in my mouth. That’s right, my first intuitive impression I had of Marina and her caring, embracing nature showed up the food. And tack on near perfect service and great wines like Pizzorno or Casa Filgueira.

So where did I travel on this odyssey? Given I am wheat-free, we had to work around that but I started with crunchy, homemade sweet potato chips tossed with celery salt and the most perfect roasted garlic, paired with the Casa Filgueira Sauvignon Gris. Next, a bite of a sublime carpaccio with merluza negra, black hake, pounded paper thin and laced with minced green apple, chopped pistachios and parsley with a drizzle of peppery olive oil. OMG. Next was Raúl’s delicious, refined rendition of gazpacho. The soup was creamy, balanced, with perfect acidity and an addictive mouth feel as it was passed through a fine sieve. I uncovered a skinned cherry tomato cleverly nestled at the bottom of the bowl, a little mouth burst of the finest of fine brunoise veggies, which some cook had patiently stuffed into that tomato.

After, I savored one of my favorite Brazilian dishes ever, moqueca, a rich coconut sauce made with a touch of nutty dende (palm) oil with fish, shrimp, and seafood floating in the pinkish broth. Marina and Raúl insisted on bringing more “mini” courses. Sure, why not? The wine is flowing and company is good. How about oxtail braised in Tannat sauce with a sublime mashed potato purée? Gamey, meaty, tender, delicious. I was toast. I passed on the crème brulee made with mate. There are limitations to my stomach space. I decided my Merlot would be “dessert”.

Since my escapade in Gardenia in Montevideo, we caught up with Marina and Raúl in Santiago on a chilly, rainy Good Friday. We went to the markets and then came back to our apartment to cook together. Well cooking “together” really didn’t happen. With two totally creative restaurant chefs in the kitchen wanting to convert Chile’s bounty of produce and seafood, I stepped back and let them cook for me—again. A guest in my own kitchen, what a novelty. I even got to sit on the other side of our island to be entertained as Raúl seared, sauteed, fried, chopped, and delighted us. We ate and drank by course, for hours, and went on a different yet similar trip to the first one in Montevideo.

Passion, originality and details. Marina and Raúl get food and what makes a restaurant experience work. If you want to do something totally different your next time in Uruguay (or Sao Paulo), go to Gardenia and let them woo you. It’s worth the detour from Punta del Este, Carmelo, to see their way of conceiving food. Just be listos to go for a ride.

Photo: www.gardeniamvd.com

Gardenia is open from Mon-Fri 12-3:30pm; 8pm-midnight and Sat 1-4pm; 9pm-1am. Reservations highly recommended. Be sure to follow their wine recs too.  (598 2 628 8838)

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June 7, 2011. I wake up and peer through the heavy, draped, velvet curtains of our hotel room overlooking the roof tops of Palermo Viejo. Darn, it’s one of those icky winter days when the clouds descend and shroud the city in a bone-chilling fog. Thick, gray and dense fog. I grab my iPhone to check the Weather Channel (quite possibly my favorite app), to see how much I have to bundle up to head outside. The weather forecast reads, “Volcanic Ash.” Seriously. That’s the weather forecast? Uh oh.

We turn on the news. Apparently, the “fog” is not fog at all. It’s the fine, gray volcanic ash that spewed out from the Puyehue-Cordon Caulle volcano in southern Chile over the weekend, over a thousand kilometers away. The same ash that has buried much of Bariloche and the Patagonian provinces of Neuquén. The bad news? Buenos Aires airspace is closed until further notice and all planes are grounded.

“Control Liz, control. Do not have a meltdown.” We fly tomorrow to Salta in Argentina’s Northwest, or so we had planned. I resort to slightly delusional, self-calming measures. I convince myself it cannot be that bad. Not like Europe in April 2011 when thousands got stranded, including my own brother, in Paris for nearly a week. However, the gravity of the situation sets in as we take to the streets of Buenos Aires. As the sun rises, there’s a distinct brownish haze that distorts and reflects the sun’s rays. A thin layer of ash covers the cars. The normally busy skies of Buenos Aires have fallen silent. I will save you the rest of our travel saga, as I am sure you can guess what happened…

We got stuck in BA.

Not for an eternity, thankfully, but an extra 2 days. We did make it to Salta and back to Santiago on time. That morning our flight was cancelled over and over again, I was thankful that our wonderful hotel, Legado Mítico, had a great staff monitoring the flights online for us. Since, apparently, this issue could be recurring until the volcano calms down, these are two key sites for those of you traveling in Argentine air space. First, the news site that kept us up to date on the official committee meetings was www.infobae.com reporting on the air space that was opening or not. Then, for specific flight information, the official government website for Argentine airports including Ezeiza and Aeroparque, http://www.aa2000.com.ar, was infinitely more reliable. We learned that the airlines only updated, at best, a couple times per day with many times incorrect information. We discovered this after one bunk trip to Aeroparque to be told by LAN staff that “more info would be available in 4 hours”. Knowing that Argentines often say “maybe” when they really mean “we have no freaking clue,” we said, “screw this” and rebooked for the last flight to Salta the next afternoon. When you have the luck to get stuck and be forced to stay in a cool city like BA, who wants to waste time at the airport? We wanted to get down to more important things like enjoying our Buenos Aires querido.

In all fairness, I think that I brought getting stuck in BA upon us. Prior to our trip, I had been moaning about how, once again, we were embarking on a flash trip to Buenos Aires. Another in-and-out of the city in a bang in only 3 days with virtually no free time to just estar, be, and soak up what makes Buenos Aires so delicious—its urban lifestyle: the restaurants, boutiques, cafés, arts, walking the beautiful neighborhoods and parks.

And so I got my wish. Two extra days in Buenos Aires.

We revisited some perennial favorite restaurants like lunching atSudestada in Palermo Hollywood with its attractive picture glass windows and spicy (if you ask for it) pan-Asian cuisine. I had the vegetable-pork rice noodles and to my surprise, I think I may have actually scalded my taste buds for the first time in Buenos Aires thanks to the Laotian chef. Another day, we lunched for hours on end and soaked up the daylight over a lush Fabre Montmayou Malbec, succulent steak tartare and duck confit at Petanque, a wonderful brasserie in San Telmo. Being in Argentina, I let my true carnivore self come alive so I delighted in forking into a bloody, tender bife ancho with a glass of the slinky Urraca blend (made by Walter Bressia in Mendoza), at the oh-so-local Don Julio parrilla.

We walked from our hub in Palermo Viejo deep into the neighboring Villa Crespo passing through Little Armenia, where bakeries filled with Middle Eastern treats and the aromas of fresh pita tinged the air.  We hit the “Murillo” leather district, where store after store, block after block, is filled with every imaginable leather item. Only in Buenos Aires could I envision dressing myself from head-to-toe in leather. We walked up to Almagro to take my husband to the classic café,Las Violetas, far from the throngs of tourists at Tortoni off Avenida de Mayo. We sat down to a perfectly frothy espresso, glazed medialunas and families delighting in the Saturday paper while digging into their sweet pastries. As we walked, I savored these old school barrios, so evocative what life in Buenos Aires is all about, not just the glitzy storefronts of Recoleta and sights that tourists see. Buenos Aires is a city of neighborhoods and hard working folks. The corner verduleria (vegetable stand), butcher, dry cleaner, pasta shop churning out tons of homemade pasta and artisans still working over marble slabs to fold ricotta-stuffed agnolotti. Of course, there is always the empanada joint, bakery, and quintessential porteño meeting point: the café.

While we did have some food land mines (note: don’t do Mexican of any sort in Buenos Aires, what was I thinking?!), we discovered some new gems. On Friday, we dined at the under-the-radar foodie spot, Las Pizarras. There are no menus, just pizarras (oversized blackboards), touting the fresh-from-the-market menu that rotates on a nearly daily basis. The chef, Rodrigo Castilla, is cooking up orders in the back. We dug into a perfectly executed shaved roasted beet root, butternut squash, and baby spinach salad drizzled with a mandarin dressing and a silky goat cheese mousse, paired with Lurton’s zingy Pinot Gris from the Uco Valley in Mendoza. For the main, I couldn’t resist the braised, pulled lamb shoulder made into a ragout and stuffed into roasted eggplant. My husband was tapped out on all the red meat and went for an earthy, mushroom risotto with sheep’s milk cheese, both paired with a bright, fruity Malbec from La Madrid. Homey, real food, satisfying flavors and a good price-quality ratio (something that is getting out of whack these days in BA, ojo). The next day, we lunched at a newish El Efímero Festín, a vegetarian and gluten-free (hoorah!) haven in Buenos Aires. Off a quieter block of Palermo, on Uriarte with Cabrera, the restaurant has retro décor and a young vibe. The emphasis is on fresh ingredients with a selection of main course salads, fish and vegetarian dishes using abundant quinoa and tofu. I loved that everything was marked as gluten free as I felt like between pasta, pizza, sandwiches, and medialunas, I was in a wheat land mine, constantly, clinging to steak and salad (and Malbec) fervently.

During our extended stay, we hung out at one of my favorite hotels in the city, Legado Mítico. If you have ever longed to step into someone else’s shoes, here you can channel Evita or other legendary Argentines. The location is superb in the heart of Palermo Viejo, Buenos Aires’ food-and-fashion quarter, although it sits quietly tucked away from the action on a block lined with jacaranda and rosewood trees. The project of Salteño Javier Figueroa, with another luxe outpost in Salta, the 11 rooms pays homage to a cultural figure from Argentina, from Jorge Luis Borges and Che Guevara to Eva Perón, each with its one décor. We camped out in La Mecenas, dedicated to writer Victoria Ocampo. The room was tastefully filled with her books, photos, and memorabilia as if we were staying at her home. And that was just it. Legado Mítico made us feel totally at home. It didn’t matter that we were “stuck”. We were taken care of. And on Saturday at 7pm, we finally touched down in Salta to pick up the rest of our journey.

Isn’t an unplanned detour sometimes just what we need in life?

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These gluten-free cheese bread puffs are delicious and fast to make!

Hailing from the Brazilian state of Minas Gerais, these cheese breads, known as pão de queijo, are extremely popular throughout Brazil and are gaining popularity abroad.  Brazilians use polvilho, a type of yucca starch, or yucca flour to achieve a crunchy outer crust and a chewy, cheesy interior.  These breads are perfect for those with celiac disease, since they are completely gluten-free.

Pão de queijo is normally served piping hot, straight from the oven, with espresso for breakfast or as a snack. They are a perfect complement to wine. Leftovers may be frozen for up to three months.   Once they cool, place them in a toaster to reheat and maintain texture.

Ingredients:

(Yield: 2 1⁄2 dozen)

2⁄3 cup whole milk

1⁄2 cup vegetable oil

2-2 1⁄2 cups polvilho doce or yucca starch

1 teaspoon salt

2 eggs, lightly beaten

1 cup grated Parmesan

 Cheese Bread Bites:

• In a saucepan, bring milk and oil to a boil. Sift yucca starch with salt in a mixing bowl.

• Whisk hot mixture into dry ingredients in a steady stream. Incorporate eggs and grated Parmesan.

• Let cool slightly, then knead with your hands till smooth. Break off walnut-size pieces and roll into balls.

• Bake at 350ºF for 20 minutes until golden. Serve immediately from oven.

Mix the Ingredients:

• When heating the milk, use the low setting to avoid scalding.

• To mix, use a plastic bowl rather than stainless steel, ceramic, or glass, which can cause the dough to stick.

• As you whisk, the dough will become slightly sticky and unwieldy for a moment. Keep mixing until uniform dough is achieved.

Add Cheese and Bake:

• After mixing, use the heel of your hand to knead the dough to achieve a smooth, elastic texture and fully incorporate the cheese.

• Let the dough rest for 30 minutes before baking.

• To keep the dough from sticking to your hands, periodically wet them in a bowl of water placed next to the work area, or grease them with oil.

• Place the balls on a greased baking sheet. Leave extra room between them since they puff during baking.

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Polvilho is a cassava starch that replaces wheat flour and gives the cheese bread an intense tanginess. There are two kinds of cassava starch: sweet cassava starch and sour cassava starch. They are both made from the same raw material, the cassava root, but the sour version is left to ferment for 2 days before processing. The sour version is commonly used in Brazil.

RECIPE VARIATION

Smoked Sausage and Feta: Bring milk, salt, and oil to a boil. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil; add

1 sliced smoked sausage or chorizo. Sear 7 minutes until fat has rendered. Remove sausage, cool,

and coarsely chop. Add hot milk to polvillho and mix. Add the eggs, 1/4 cup Feta cheese, and sausage and knead until smooth. Roll into balls; bake at 350F for 20 minutes until golden.

This is an original recipe and photography from Liz Caskey & Francisco Ramírez’s cookbook, Knack South American Cooking. To get your copy, click here.

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Today’s video uses indigenous Chilean ingredients now being exported to the US.  Chilean papayas are known as “carica candamarcensis,” or Mountain papayas, and have no resemblance to their tropical cousins. Similar in shape to a starfruit with a thin, yellow skin, these papayas are grown in the Northern arid areas near La Serena and MUST be cooked before being consumed. They have a barely sweet, musky taste and a toothy texture between a pear and peach. They are now being conserved and exported in jars to the US and available at major supermarkets or specialty grocers like Puro Chile in New York City or Foster’s Foods in Atlanta. This flavor is uniquely Chilean.

In this recipe, the inherent sweetness of the fruit, akin to a shirt-soaker tomato, is used instead of tomatoes in the traditional pebre dish.  Pebre is a type of local salsa found on every Chilean table and used on everything from bread to potatoes, eggs, meat, and of course, fish. The fruitiness of the papaya plays with the tropical fruit and bold acidity in this fruit forward, unoaked Natura Chardonnay from Emiliana Orgánico. Here we pair it with corvina, a type of sea bass (not Chilean sea bass). You can use any firm, white fish with some fat like grouper, halibut, or even sea bass itself. The fullness of the wine also complements the oils in the fish for bite after bite of bliss.  Enjoy!

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Leche asada, meaning “roasted milk” in Spanish, is a rustic form of flan popular all over the region due to its simplicity (milk, eggs, and sugar) and ease of preparation.  Cooks aromatize the milk and infuse different flavors, ranging from vanilla in Peru to cinnamon and lemon peel in Chile, or rich dulce de leche in Argentina.  Use whole milk for a creamy texture.  Free-range eggs also increase the flavor, texture, and nutritional value. To make the caramel, try cane sugar to achieve amber-colored syrup quickly and consistently.  Prepare in a large pan, or divide into ovenproof ramekins.  This flan is served inverted with the juicy caramel around it.
Yield: 8 servings

Ingredients:

2 1⁄4 cups sugar

4 cups whole milk

Zest of 1 lemon

1 cinnamon stick

4 large eggs

• In a deep skillet, distribute 1 1⁄4 cups sugar evenly over medium heat; melt to form a rich caramel.
• In a saucepan, steep milk with lemon zest and cinnamon stick for 5 minutes; let cool and strain.
• Beat eggs with 1 cup sugar until glossy and pale yellow.  Whisk into cooled milk mixture, mixing well.
• Pour caramel into a greased 9×13 baking dish. Cover with milk mixture.  Bake in 350ºF oven in a bain-marie 30 to 40 minutes until top is slightly browned.  Chill before serving inverted.

Tips for Making the Caramel

• As the sugar caramelizes, pull the melted sugar towards the center to avoid burn marks.
• If the sugar looks grainy, lower the heat and continue to stir. When the caramel has completely melted and is a deep amber color, it is ready.
• Handle hot caramel with precaution, as it can cause burns.

Baking in Bain-Marie

• Coat the dish with the caramel.  Then add the milk-egg mixture to the baking dish, filling to 3⁄4 full.
• Place the baking dish in a larger roasting pan and fill with hot water up to the halfway point.  This protects the custard as it bakes. To test for doneness, the custard should slightly jiggle in the center; or test with a toothpick that should come out clean.
• Let cool to room temperature and then refrigerate for at least 4 hours before serving.

MAKE IT EASY!

Don’t be afraid to try making caramel at home. It is simple and fun. Use a heavy pan with a clear bottom—this way you can observe as the caramel changes color to know when it is ready. Also keep in mind that because the pan is so hot, once the caramel begins to change to golden, it goes very quickly. Turn off the heat just before it reaches dark amber, as the residual heat will finish the coloring.

For a recipe variation, try sinful Dulce de Leche Flan!

In a skillet, distribute 11/4 cups sugar evenly; melt to form caramel. Coat 8 ramekins with caramel. In a saucepan, whisk  1 cup milk, 11/2 cups cream, 11/2 cups dulce de leche, and seeds from 1 vanilla bean. Remove; let cool. Beat in 4 large whole eggs and 2 egg yolks. Place ramekins in roasting dish and bake.

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The first (white) strawberry on Earth was discovered in the south of Chile in the 16th century by the Spanish. Today, all berries are an integral part of the Chilean diet and fruit abundance found throughout the Southern region and Central Valley. The berries reach their sweetest peak in the summer months from January to March when you can even see gatherers filling buckets with blackberries by country road sides. This simple dessert is a perfect “make ahead” dish that also incorporates Chile’s flagship wine varietal, Carmenere. Here, we pair a Natura Carmenere from Emiliana Organico which has inherently spicy notes on the nose with homey notes of cloves and cinnamon. The wine reduction sauce steps that up a notch and intensifies the lush fruit flavors. The exotic addition of basil adds pizzazz to the palate although grated dark chocolate is another tempting alternative. If you want to mix it up, try it with a Malbec.

Serve it in a wine glass for a stunning presentation. Best part? You can make the sauce up to 2 days ahead and the cut up the berries the night before. Easy entertaining. Did I mention that leftover wine sauce is REALLY good on dark chocolate, dulce de leche, or even vanilla ice cream? Que disfruten chicos.

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