When I think about different foods, a location usually comes to mind, like pasta and Italy, or foie gras and the Hudson Valley, or truffles and France. When I think of meat I think of Argentina- and that vast swath of the chlorophyll filled pampas- the grassy plains in the interior of the country that provide the flavor to beef that has the rest of the world looking on in envy. Don't get me wrong, USDA beef is spectacular and is a very close second, but let's recognize Argentine beef for what it is- the best on earth. So being that I am a big fan of beef, I was drawn to Buenos Aires and the legendary steakhouses, or parillas, that pleasure the local portenos. I had only two nights, and there were three establishments that I wanted to dine in, so lunch was going to have to suffice for one spot. The three were in reverse chronological order were: La Estancia, La Brigada, and Cabana Las Lilas. I put them in this order, because I figured I knew which one I was going to like best, and made sure to go there first in case we were not able to be go to all of them.
La Estancia is a very large, one room parilla on a street named Lavalle, which is a pedestrian only street (most of the time) in the heart of Buenos Aires. From the street one can see the many cuts of meats grilling on a pit or a grill, and as I opened the doors I was consumed by the smell of burning wood and greeted by a very old door man that was enlightened by my daughter's smile. We were shown to a table in the rear of the restaurant, and took our seats. This was the day we were flying home and was going to be our last meal in South America. We started with a large Quilmes beer, which is served in a bucket of ice like a fine wine would be. I must say I really wanted to compare the three restaurants apple for apple, so I ordered the same three items at each of the stops, and tried bites of my family's plates for any variety I needed. The three items were chorizo sausage, sweetbreads, and lomo- or filet mignon to the northern latitude dwellers. Except for this spot, where I finished off with a skirt steak. The sweetbreads here were very large, about the size of a hamburger at McDonalds, but thicker. The waiter showered the treats with a lemon and we served ourself off of the grill that had been placed on the table. the texture provided enough resistance so that my fork alone would not quite penetrate the piece. The flavor was well-rounded and a house-made chimichurri was spicy hot, but not up to what I was hoping for. deeming lemon enough for the rest that I ate. The chorizo sausages were very nice, loosely ground and seared perfectly to seal in the natural juices. the flavor was excellent. The table ordered a mixed grill of chicken, pork, and beef, and the skirt steak was only decent, which proved to make this the number 3 spot in BA. It was tied together in a circle and was dry and tasted like roast from Applebee's. No juice or flavor. But the decor of the restaurant made it look like we were outside in those pampas with tree-like pillars and murals on the wall of cattle and clouds. **1/2
On the second night in BA, we tried La Brigada, which is in the San Telmo district. This place is famous as being a hang out of the Argentina National Football team, and the walls are adorned with jerseys of the game's legends and has the feel of a very masculine place. There are three stories and a large wine cellar in the basement which can be seen through an acrylic floor by the piano. Servers wait for you at the door and escort you to your table like one would escort wedding guest. Once seated we were presented with menus bound in cow hides and ordered some white wine to start with. An article I had read suggested the tail of sirloin, but to keep with comparing I ordered the lomo which proved to be a slight miscue. The rest of the table ordered the tail of sirloin and they proved to be cut-with-a-spoon tender. My filet was good, and the sweetbreads and chorizo were very very good. La Brigada ***
So this leaves us with one restaurant to redeem Argentina as THE spot for carne. In 2006 I read an article in the New York Times food section titled: Meals worth the price of a plane ticket, and after El Bulli in Spain the writer listed Cabana Las Lilas. in his very short list of 6 restaurants. I was intrigued, what could be done to beef differently to make an overnight flight to BA worthwhile. I wanted to find out what was so special about this place in the Puerto Madera district, sitting right on the water way near the Puenta de la mujer. Upon arrival I checked in with the hostess and stated I had made a reservation some time back to dine there (8 months to be exact). As I waited for the second cab to deliver my fellow diners I saw a tour bus pull up and unload a mass of tourists in very non-South American garb. I started to shutter and wonder what I had gotten into. surely they were not about to dine in the glorious Cabana Las Lilas dressed as they were. Sure enough they were herded into the restaurant, which my eyes that had not yet seen the expansive dining rooms that enveloped the entrance, and I wondered where they were going to put them. A few moments later another bus pulled up, same result. I was starting to wonder if I was either in the wrong spot or if I had made a mistake. When the remainder of my party arrived, I stepped back to the hostess and told her we were ready to be seated. Past the grill, through the first dining room, through the second large dining room with doors open to the fast approaching night, and into the third very large dining room that must have seated 110 people. There must have been 250 people dining at the restaurant as we were seated. The waiters were clad in tuxedos and brought out two platters for the table before our waters were even filled. They consisted of roasted peppers, spanish ham, mushrooms, and a semi-hard cheese. We later learned this was part of the 8 peso seating charge applied to each adult diner. As we settled in for our first dinner in BA, I read over the wine list and ordered a nice pinot noir for the table. I know what I was going to dine on, but looked over the menu to get a feel for the choices of such a large churrascaria. They had all the bases covered as far as meat goes. there were cuts that I knew, some I had forgotten, and some I had not run across before. As the head waiter came to our table (we had a wait staff of 4 for our 8 top table) we started to give our preferences. when my mother ordered her steak well-done the waiter said "we might have a problem there, the chef is quite picky and may not cook to that temperature." I did not know whether to say congratulations to the chef or what the hell is he thinking. After a quick trip to the kitchen and apparently an approval from the chef, the order was confirmed and we all followed with our orders of steaks medio-crudo, or medium rare. I also ordered the sweetbreads and chorizo bonbones as they were billed. An appetizer here is assumed to be for the table when ordered, so these two dishes were brought first to my place setting and served with two forks in the ultra-classy manner, and then offered to the rest of the settings, although there were only two takers on the sweetbreads and 1 on the chorizos since there were so few. The chorizos were succulent and made my mouth sing in joy of the wonderfully juicy array of flavor that had been presented to my taste buds. just enough spice with the excellent red chimichurri to put a bead of sweat on my forehead, the way I like it. And then the sweetbreads, ohhh the sweetbreads. I have liked sweetbreads for some time now, but in Louisville the only spot that always has them on the menu is Palermo Viejo, and they keep my cravings in check when I am at my home base. So I have not seen them prepared too many ways. When I put the fork, or tendedor, to the first bite, I heard it crunch and saw it split. I was taken back as I was not expecting a crunchy sweetbread. I rushed the bite to my lips and was awarded with pure heaven. There are but a few things that can make me smile in utter amazement from years of exploring this great earth. And at times the most simple things can accomplish this feat, such as a crunchy sweetbread served in Beunos Aires, Argentina. The full flavored morsels had been charred to the point where there was no black grill marks, but the outer edges were crispy and the middle was semi-tough in a good way. this is what that gent at the new york times was talking about. After the starters, the main courses were hand delivered to the table by the chef himself, who seemed to have demigod status amongst the waiters as they hurried to set up his easel to place his masterpieces upon. He placed the tray on the stand and looked at our table, smiled and vanished back to the kitchen. The head waiter then passed out our steaks and baked potatoes. Before I go any further, let me tell you abot the service. My water glass was never empty, one of the waiters seemed to be on guard at all times as we dined, and when I would place an empty bottle or dish near the edge of the table, it was whisked away within 30 seconds. As I cut into my steak my lip turned up a bit. it was medium, not medium rare. I asked the opinion of the third waiter in command and he conversed with the second in command and seemed to be very hesitant in agreeing with my claim of an overcooked steak. As we were inspecting the steak, out of nowhere the head waiter came up from behind me and as if he had been in on the whole conversation scooped the meat up and said that steak is medium. within 20 seconds, that's right. 20 seconds I had a perfectly cooked steak in front of me. the master server asked me to cut into the steak and check its heat. ahhh, perfection. The steak was as flavorful as anticipated, the owner serves only beef from his personal ranch in the pampas. A slighlty different flavor than US beef, the Argentine beef seems a bit more complex than the US counterpart. A baked potato which had been requested with sour cream on the side showed up sans sour cream, and when I asked the waiter for a side of crema, he brought a new potato with sour cream slathered all over it in 15 seconds. Now as busy as this place was it was impossible to leave the room in 15 seconds, much less go to the kitchen, get a potato, and apply butter, sour cream, and chives. where did the potato come from, under the waiter's hat?, from another diner's table? I had never seen two mistakes corrected with more speed. I was amazed at the level of service and professionalism being displayed. For dessert I had a cream brulee which was very good, although I swear I almost ordered sweetbreads for dessert. And so it goes.... Cabana Las Lilas ***** worth every penny of that plane ticket!
AE
