Tag Archives: chilean food

Of Mice and Men

The last few days we were in Buenos Aires, are hectic, so there is little time for me to write. Therefore I am writing up the weekend and our return from home. So if there are any errors or omissions I hope you will forgive me. There is one up side of this though; it extends my holiday mood for a few more days as I recall happy times in the City of Tango.

Saturday.

If the best laid plans of mice and men can go awry, then you will understand how my poor organisation can end up in chaos. We had already postponed our lunch with Philippe due to over booking, but today we had reserved the afternoon for him.

We set off down Guardia Vieja in the hope of visiting Guardia La Vieja again. Unfortunately I had not checked, and it seems they do not open during the day. There are two “Organic” restaurants also on Guardia Vieja, but I don’t do organic. Carrot cake and lettuce leaf butties are not what I think of when thinking food in Argentina.

So we set off down Corrientes, Philippe knew of a place opposite the Abasto called El Rey. He was a bit more reliable and the place was there, and open. It was Chilean food, but somehow we ended up with Pollo Entero again.

The chicken arrived already quartered; there was a huge plate of chips and just for healthy balance a huge plate of salad.  The chicken was cooked to perfection with an unknown (to us) variety of spices. The chips were perfectly browned and even the salad was a good mix. (Usually here they overdo the onion and under do the lettuce). All this was washed down with a fine Malbec.

The only downside of the experience was the door that no one seemed to understand should be shut after going through it. The weather now is getting cooler and nobody likes to sit in a draught.

We finished up with coffee in the apartment. All our business sorted, there was nothing left but to say adios for another year.

My plans for the day continued to go wrong; Janis had said we should meet in Lo de Celia, but we had arranged to meet Roger and Mirta at Consegrados. I checked the times and there was no reason we could not do the two especially as they were only three blocks apart. So I mailed Janis to tell her.

Janis though decided that she would come to Los Consegrados so we all met up there.

Viv and I had a few dances but she was still suffering, so her instruction to go play was not unexpected.

From where we were sitting though it was not easy to cabeceo and I could not really see who I was asking to dance. My first victim was a real surprise, blessed as she was in the chest department, she was also very tall. I think Viv Janis and Mirta were all somewhat amused by me attempts to look dignified as I tried in vain to find somewhere to put my head that would not lead to embarrassment. Still the lady in question did not seem to mind too much and despite my obvious discomfort, I did enjoy the experience.

I also met up with a lady from Windsor called Jane, who is a friend of Janis. I told her if she is ever up north to give us a visit, but I doubt she ever will. Londoners think the world ends at Watford Gap.

We all sort of broke up early. Roger and Mirta were tired and headed off back to their hotel and with Viv not dancing, we decided we had also had enough, by about ten thirty.

Janis stayed on with Jane and we set off into the night.

We do not know this side of town that well. (It is reputed to be dangerous, phffat) I thought we could walk through to Congresso so that is what we did.

Even this late at night some of the buildings were beautiful to look at, although my little camera would not do them justice without the light. We saw a 168 stop, and for a second or two thought about just jumping on, but sometimes after a milongas we just enjoy walking together and reliving some of our experiences. For me some of our best times together are when we are just strolling after the milongas.So we walked on.

When we finally got to Congresso we stopped off at Moncloa the café where we had met Maggi last year. So at close to midnight we had Submarino (Hot milk into which you melt chocolate) and medialunas, watching the never-ending traffic around the square, until it was time to catch our colectivo home.

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