From Argentina With Love

A Weekend Escape--Escapando por el Fin de Semana

Last weekend, this was the view from our front steps.  In Colorado, by February, even if we don't have much snow, everything is brown, leafless and bleak.  A person starts to feel cooped up and long for some time outside, preferably someplace warm and sunny with beach sand to stick their toes in.  By February, the daily routine starts to feel like a rut and a restless feeling takes up residence, knowing spring and sunny days are around the corner.  By February, I've had it to here with board games, flannel sheets, baking bread and hearty stew.

Our solution:  Miami.

We decided to do something we had never done before:  take a spur of the moment trip, a weekend getaway, just 48 hours change of scenery.  Could we?  We could.  We used saved up miles, arranged for the kids to stay with grandma, and before we knew it, we were off on the red-eye on Friday night.  Along the way we realized we hadn't been alone on a weekend trip without kids since 2006.  2006! 

A trip was well-deserved.

We were delighted when we got to our hotel, Marenas Resort in Sunny Isles.  After a long breakfast, we parked ourselves under an umbrella on the sand.  Amazingly, we happened to be surrounded by Argentines and felt right at home.

Even better, Miami is full of Argentine restaurants.  Overjoyed, we stuffed ourselves with  facturas, sandwiches de miga, sandwiches de milanesa, pastelitos, panqueques, and more.  We visited the quaint Buenos Aires Bakery, New Campo Argentino, and the transendent Graziano's in Coral Gables (where we were treated like royalty by manager Adrian Scalia and his family, gracias!) The Graziano's market around the corner was something to see, too!

Too soon, we were headed back home, where our car was buried under a foot of snow! The memory of the sun on our faces lingers on, as do the flavors of the Argentine comfort food we enjoyed.  More posts to follow on the places themselves, stay tuned for the drool-worthy details! 

El Patio de Babushka

"My brother wants to take us to lunch today," Guillermo announced as we were sitting at my in-law's green kitchen table, tearing into a brown paper bag of pastries from Al Pan Pan.  "He knows of a farm where the family runs a restaurant out of their house, and they cook all Ukrainian food."  That was enough to make me nearly swoon with pleasure. 

Paradoxical as it may be, Ukrainian food and traditions are alive and well in the rural area known as La Escandinava that surrounds General Alvear and Bowen (pop. 4, 562).  Guillermo's parents live in Bowen now, but he spent his childhood nearby on the family farm where his father grew up, too.  The area was settled by Scandinavians, Russians and Ukrainians who dug the irrigation system that made farming there possible and gave it its name.

My hands-down favorite thing about traveling to this area are all these little culinary gems that are founded on a long-standing tradition, and that we only get to do because we have a local with inside information (usually someone in the family).  Couple that with the idea that everything is made from scratch and served with pride, well, it's the antithesis of the American food culture and that's where my admiration comes in.

At lunch time, we drove down dirt road after dirt road.  Farm after farm blurred together, green alfalfa, plum trees, then grape vines, all surrounded by alamos trees that are the signature 'fence' of the area.  Finally, we pulled off and drove down another dirt road, only this time we could see a farmhouse surrounded by trees and a windmill at the end of the drive.  We had arrived at El Patio de Babushka, a well-tended farmhouse with a long tiled patio shaded by a grape arbor.

We were welcomed with hugs and kisses all around by Sra. Orlowski, who led us to the table, simply but elegantly set, in the middle of her living room.  Out came the wine, the bread, a wooden board of picadita--homemade salami, a marinated carrot and onion salad.  Followed by an unending stream of plates, starting with canellones.  Shredded carrots and cabbage in vinaigrette.  Braised chicken.  Ribs.  A tomato and onion salad made with tomatoes from the garden.  Homemade vareniki.  We ate.  Talked.  Drank. Laughed.  Ate again.  The afternoon waned.

Dessert was served on the patio under the grape arbor, while we relaxed into deep seats and watched how the afternoon sun filtered through the grapes, heavy with sweetness.  The kids ran around the farmyard without a care in the world, looking at all the animals and playing on the swingset. 

Dessert came in two courses, a homemade peach and fig compote that acted as a digestif from the heavy lunch, and later, coffee with Russian Honey Cake.  Everything was served simply, in a homey way that made us relax completely.  That feeling of peace is the hallmark of our trips 'home' to Argentina.  For all that we have here, we don't have that feeling most of the time, we're too busy running around to just stop and enjoy something simple. 

 A day spent at El Patio de Babushka--a rural treasure.  Where things are still done the old-fashioned way and guests leave feeling like they're part of the family.  (Ok, not totally old-fashioned: they have a website with many more photos and a facebook  page, too!)  If you find yourself in the area, don't miss having lunch there--you'll feel welcome and get to take part in a wonderful and authentic traditional meal.

A Visit to Lasater Ranch--Una Visita a la Estancia Lasater

 A couple of Sundays ago, we were honored to get an invite to the Lasater Ranch, where our gracious host, Alex Lasater (above) treated us to an outstanding day on the prairie.  Lasater Ranch is located on 30,000 acres of wide-open range.  (Cue 'Don't Fence Me In' music here.)  The property actually circumvents the tiny township of Matheson, CO and is home to a small herd of about 200 head of cattle. 

I first discovered Lasater's grass-fed beef at Whole Foods, where I was happy to see a locally raised and produced grass-fed product.  Alex himself was there to educate consumers about the benefits of his beef (vs. the usual factory-farmed version, which is prohibitively pumped full of antibiotics and grain-fed). 

The beef-raising tradition on the Argentine pampa dictates grass-fed; it's the difference that gives the beef served in the iconic steakhouses of Buenos Aires its world-renowned reputation and puts a smile on the face of the porteño.  I'm delighted to see that tradition being followed here, and Alex Lasater, himself something of a renegade, has a "take it or leave it" attitude about what he does.

Like a fish swimming against the current, Lasater cattle aren't treated with pesticides or antibiotics, grain-fed, or in beauty contests at the Stock Show. (Lasater cattle do not compete in the end-of-show auctions in which steer go for upwards of $100,000 or more each). 

The 'gals', as they are affectionately known on the ranch, are raised from birth to be used to humans, gentle enough to be fed by hand (which we spent plenty of time doing, as seen below, much to the delight of Esteban and Nora, who thought it was great fun.) Alex called the herd to us with a soft "Hooooooo!" and they came right to us.

The ranch is also part wildlife preserve.  Looming cottonwood trees are the nap spot of porcupines, who nestle into the crooks to doze during the day while sneaking close to the house to rob the russian olive trees by night.  Nestled near the roots of the trees are a small herd of white-tail deer rest and graze, while in the savannah-like open air of the prairie, a herd of antelope race at breakneck speed until out of sight over a knoll.

Wind-blown, we returned back to the ranch house, a sprawling southwestern-style hacienda built by Lasater's grandparents.  There, in the gentile elegance of a dynasty of ranchers, we dined on burgers and beef brats, sipped red wine, and relaxed amongst the books, artwork and family photos in the sun-drenched living room.  Alex Lasater's thoughtful and purposeful manner defies the stereotype of the rancher: educated, cultured and well-traveled, he is determined in the value of what he does and in sharing that philosophy with others. 

As the day came to a close, we said our goodbyes, and part of me was sad to leave what Alex calls his "perch on the prairie".  Idyllic for a visitor, I was nevertheless reminded of the tough work that is ranching, something few have the stamina for or are cut out to do.  But am I glad Lasater does--and that we have his quality, grass-fed beef within easy reach.  Finally, I can feel good about what I've got on my table, and we're closer than ever to getting the flavors of Argentina at home.  (For more photos of our day and the ranch, please visit our Facebook  page!)

Suckling Pig in a Clay Oven at Grandpa's House--Lechón al Horno de Barro en la Casa de los Abuelos

Fire is primal--the first and most basic way to cook.  Since the beginning of time, it gives man the power to control his food.  It is also by far (smokers, barbecues, ovens and other technology be damned) one of the most effective ways to release flavor.  Fire is warming, hypnotic, yet dangerous.  It strikes a deep chord in us--of hearth, tribe, warmth--that we gather around it, even watch videos of it, complete with crackling sounds, to create a homey atmosphere during the holidays.

At my in-laws' house, the  horno de barro--the clay oven that is an Argentine backyard staple, is right next to the brick parilla. In it, all manner of delicacies are prepared--grilled meats, rescoldo vegetables, even pizza, bread, and empanadas.  But the most revered of all is the lechon--the suckling  pig.

 Lechon is a classic rite-of-passage meal.  A company's coming or holiday meal.  And one that Esteban thoroughly enjoyed making with his abuelo and papi while visiting. 

This summer we plan to build a clay oven in our own backyard stateside.  I'd love your ideas and suggestions.  What are your family's traditions surrounding the horno de barro? Do you have one at home?  How did you build it, and did you run into any issues (zoning, HOA)?  Thanks for your input, and looking forward to your stories!

The Vineyard at the End of the World Book Giveaway!

If James Bond drank Malbec instead of Martinis, he would be in this book.  At first, I'll admit, I was skeptical--would I be interested in reading a whole book about the history of Argentine wine?  But reading this book  is like having your BFF climb into bed with you and tell you all the latest chisme.  Only your BFF happens to run with the inner circles of Argentina's wine world.

Author Ian Mount (an American expat living in Buenos Aires and raising his family there) pens the history of Argentina's wine from the time of renegade gauchos riding the pampas to today's Malbecs scoring mad points with Robert Parker.  Between the pages of this volume are all the drama, intrigue, politics and passion possible--and like a multi-course wine-pairing dinner, readers are treated to the best anecdotes along the way.  One tidbit: Mount describes how Jose Galante, a winemaker at Catena during the nineties got his nickname "White Shoes"--he was so concerned about his impeccably clean footwear he wouldn't leave the lab and risk dirtying them.  Throughout the book the reader is treated to story after story like this, interwoven with the history of Argentine wines rising to the top.  These amusing accounts made me turn page upon page.

This book is not only a great read, but with the holidays on the way, it would be a great gift for your favorite wine aficionado, along with a bottle of Malbec of course!  Today I'm giving away a copy of the book!  Here's how to enter:  Go to the BRAND NEW From Argentina With Love facebook page, and Like us if you haven't already.  Then leave a comment below the 'Vineyard at the End of the World' post.  A winner will be chosen at random on Nov. 20, 2012 at 12:00 Mountain time. Good luck!