Buenos Aires Sushi: Dashi & Ceviche

Despite the fact that Buenos Aires is dead in January, I manage to find a few food highlights to keep me going for the month:

Ceviche (Costa Rica, 5644, Palermo)

This Peruvian ceviche restaurant in Palermo Hollywood, right behind my flat, offers 25% discount on food and drink for chicas every Wednesday evening, so I book a table and head there with a group of gal-pals and a lucky token male. We are shown through the chic main restaurant, decorated with paintings, before being seated out the back in a leafy, decked patio area on a big, comfy, oval table.

Firstly, the menu is vast. Obviously, ceviche and sushi are offered in abundance, but there are also plenty of hot dishes, such as lomo salteado, and too many types of sushi rolls to even contemplate choosing from. We order a big selection of some very original creations, including:

Strawberry Roll: Philadelphia cheese, strawberry pieces, smoked salmon and teriyaki sauce

Honey Mustard Roll: Tempura chicken, lettuce and avocado with honey and mustard sauce 

Golden Roll: Philadelphia cheese, langoustine, mango and passionfruit sauce

Photo from Ceviche website

Ceviche certainly isn't cheap, but the 25% ladies' night discount makes it worthwhile and I'm well-impressed with the selection on offer and the quality of the food. I'll definitely go back!

Dashi Sushi (Fitz Roy, 1613, Palermo Hollywood)

A couple of days after my Ceviche experience, a friend gets in touch to say that a young couple he knows are visiting Buenos Aires and they want to meet up with ex-pats, so I agree to meet them for dinner at Dashi Sushi. It's a curious arrangement, as I don't know the couple in question, I'll probably never see them again, and they arrive 20 minutes late, but they turn out to be brilliant fun and it's great to have English-speaking company over good food.

Dashi Sushi has a tricky job, being located just a few minutes' walk from both Osaka and Ceviche, two of the best Peruvian restaurants in the area, and it doesn't help itself much by maintaining prices just as high as its rivals. As a consequence, the dim-lit restaurant is pretty empty, and lacks the atmosphere and ambience of Osaka and Ceviche.

Photo from Dashi's website

The food and cocktails are great at Dashi but the service just isn't as friendly, nor the atmosphere as good, as that of Osaka, and it's just too pricey to justify choosing it again over one of its superior rivals. Would I go back? Yes, I would, but it definitely wouldn't be my first choice.

The upside, of course, is that I don't get murdered by the two random strangers I meet there for dinner. Happy days.

January in Buenos Aires

Buenos Aires in January is officially dead. 

All day long, the news channels flick between images of the beaches of Pinamar, Mar del Plata and hip, trendy Punta del Este in Uruguay, comparing which has the hottest temperatures and which the hottest, most scantily clad women.

All the local mini-supermarkets near my flat are closed for at least two weeks, and I spend 45 minutes ploughing around the neighbourhood in search of a bunch of bananas to fuel me for my hot, sticky January runs in the park. This is no easy task, and most of the shops don't even advertise when they'll be reopening - it's a given that they'll be shut until Feb.

Even Miranda, my favourite local parrilla, is shut for two weeks and I can barely believe the cheek of the place! I can't imagine a restaurant in London being so arrogant as to dare to close down for two weeks for summer holidays, but in Buenos Aires this is the norm and I just have to get used to it. 

While everyone heads to the beach, I revel in the relative quietness of the subte and the Microcentro, my daily walks from the tube to the office much less crowded and the man who makes weird faces at me on the walk to the tube curiously absent. Even the group of intimidating builders I walk past daily in my summer dresses are absent for the entire month, making my commute much more relaxing. 

My January is spent mostly topping up my tan by the lake in the Bosques de Palermo on Saturday and Sunday afternoons, taking 10k runs around the neighbourhood and relaxing in the evenings in front of a DVD. The few friends I have here have gone away to ranches and other summer hideaways and I'm perfectly content to while away the scorching days in my scorching hot flat, preparing for my February trips to Mendoza, Punta del Este and Brazil, with a nice hot cup of tea and a Havannet...

The Worst Thing About Journalism

The worst thing about journalism is doorstepping. Hands down.

I'm sitting outside the Agriculture Ministry on Paseo Colón, doorstepping an emergency meeting because of the drought that's affecting all the country's crops. It's blisteringly hot, I haven't had lunch and the nearest shop is at least 10 minutes' walk away - and I can't walk off to find food and water in case I miss the important ministers when (if) they come out to speak to the press.

I got the last-minute call an hour or so before lunch time. I'd been day-dreaming about lunch all morning... Sushi and salad at Green Eat... yes, please! Then suddenly, the phone rings and I'm summoned to the Agriculture Ministry to follow this meeting. 

"Shall I buy lunch on my way there?" I think to myself. I ponder. I ponder some more. "Nah, I'll be back in time for a late lunch and it'll be much nicer. And if it goes on for hours, I'll find something over there."

Big. Mistake.

First rule of journalism: Press conferences always start way after they're scheduled to start. It doesn't matter if you're in Argentina, the UK or Kazakhstan. One of the worst moments of my journalistic career was standing in the freezing cold in the middle of a golf course in St. Andrews, Scotland, waiting for then-Prime Minister Gordon Brown to exit the hotel where he'd been at a G-20 leaders' meeting. Were he to come out of the hotel, I was under strict instructions to pounce on him, ask questions and elicit breaking-news answers. Did I have any questions to ask him? Did I hell. And did he come out of the building? Did he hell. I waited there for over an hour and all I got were blue lips, rosy cheeks and freezing-cold mitts.

So I should've known better. At least with Gordongate I was well-fed. No such luck this time. I need a pee and I'm starving hungry. There are about 35 journalists here and I have no clue what I'm doing. Worse, they are all in pairs and can at least do tag-team to buy refreshments. And, very much like Gordongate, I have no questions to ask the minister when he comes out. Oh, and just to add insult to injury, I stubbed my toe on the freaking bank steps yesterday because the security guard was being so uncooperative, and now I'm limping around everywhere. Life sucks...!

In total, I spend five hours at the Agri Ministry. I eventually return to work, utterly ravenous and sun-scorched, with a very minor, very un-breaking-news-like three-line story. So that was worth it then...

My Last Week in Buenos Aires

It's my last week in Buenos Aires before I go back to the UK and Ireland for Christmas and every day and night is packed with press lunches, end-of-year drinks and dinners, so it's all go.

Monday night I have more British friends visiting - a guy I worked with in Brazil back in 2004 and his friend, so I rope in Steel Drama Queen and a couple of her other friends (English and American) and we head to Miranda, which never fails to impress.

We start with a provoleta - my new favourite thing - and it goes down very well with my friends. I've had enough steaks in the last week to last me a lifetime so I go for my usual mouthwatering chicken Ensalada Jacinta, while my pals go for steak, lamb and one lot of pasta. We're all suitably stuffed and my buddies head down the street for an ice-cream (how many other countries do you know that have ice-cream parlours open at midnight?) while I head to bed for a very early morning the next day.

Tuesday night it's a business dinner with an economist visiting from the U.S., and we go to Happening, an upmarket parrilla in Puerto Madero that's very popular for business lunches and dinners. The steak is absolutely perfect and I even struggle to eat mine, but the service is unbelievably bad. Our waiter keeps abandoning us for up to an hour at a time and our water and wine glasses are left empty for long periods. I try several times to catch a waiter's attention and fail. I realise they are understaffed but, unfortunately, there's little in the way of apology and it becomes a three-hour dinner - not what I was hoping for by 1am when I'm shattered from the previous night.

Fortunately, I've been to Happening before for a business lunch and the service was a million times better, so I won't judge it permanently based on Tuesday evening's performance. 

The economist has some very interesting chat and tells us he has a Havanna index - i.e. Argentine inflation based on the price of a box of alfajores each year. He says it's risen something like than 120% (I don't remember the exact figures) since a year ago. Insane. 

Wednesday I walk around to my colleague's house nearby in Palermo for a quiet evening of wine, cheese and ham. And champagne to celebrate the end of 2011, of course! I notice an interesting-looking Evita museum in his neighbourhood and vow to visit in the new year.

Now it's off back to England and Ireland for three weeks. I'll miss you and your scorching heat, Buenos Aires!

I'll leave you with this shot of a Christmas tree near the Bosques de Palermo taken on my final 8.5k-run home from work of 2011:

Cluny & La Cabrera

For my newly wed friends' last weekend in Buenos Aires, we book Cluny for Saturday night with another couple who are actually on their honeymoon (Me? Gooseberry? Never) and La Cabrera for a final Sunday-night parrilla.

Cluny, on El Salvador, right in the heart of Palermo Soho, is a very stylish, cool, sophisticated restaurant with a smart, dim-lit interior and we begin our evening with a pisco sour on the white leather sofas in the bar/reception area. The place has a nice, calm ambience and the staff are friendly, but we're disappointed to find it half-empty - on a Saturday night at 11pm. I can only put this down to the fact that it's quite pricey and there's an abundance of other places to eat in the same area, but that doesn't stop La Cabrera from being chock-full every single night.

Pic from Cluny's website

Cluny describes itself as French-inspired with a Mediterranean feel. I order the Patagonian lamb and the warm chocolate pie with melting centre and we enjoy a couple of bottles of wine. The food is good but just not spectacular and the place lets itself down a little on the ambience.

La Cabrera is a much better experience. We arrive a few minutes early, at opening time, and we actually have to wait outside with a crowd of other diners until it opens - the place is that popular. We are seated at a small round table tucked away in one corner and are immediately hit by the ambience - the place just has a busy, lively vibe to it. Within a short space of time, every single table is full and the waiters rush from one set of customers to another, hurriedly trying to serve everyone. The place just has bags of character and history. The walls are adorned with restaurant reviews and different artefacts and the ceiling is complete with chandeliers made of forks and spoons and plenty of other relics to keep a roving eye occupied.

We start off with a provoleta - a delicious, semi-hard provolone cheese, grilled with oregano and served in a round dish. It is mouthwateringly moreish and is easily consumed by the three of us, despite the fact that my friend's husband has a stomach bug and isn't planning to eat much. 

The steak at La Cabrera

The restaurant recommends the Ojo de Bife (Rib-eye steak) as its speciality so we go to order two 200g versions, but the waiter says we're better off with a 400g chunk to share, as the flavours will be better. He isn't wrong. It's one of the best steaks we've ever eaten - juicy, fatty in a good way, tender and nicely medium. The steak comes with a huge selection of accompaniments in tiny pots - olives, mushrooms, tomatoes, bits of salad, peppers and different salsas. Needless to say, my friend quickly gets over his 'food poisoning' and is happy to tuck into a bit of meat!

The dinner is nicely rounded off when our bill comes with a tree made out of Chupa Chups lollies to suck on the way home. 10/10 for La Cabrera - I'll be coming again.

The lollies that come with the bill at La Cabrera

A Lazy Palermo Monday

Today is a bank holiday in Argentina (Dia de la Soberanía Nacional) and my friends have gone off to a ranch in Mendoza, so I spend a lazy day wandering around Palermo Soho for a bit of Christmas shopping.

On the way to the shops, I stop for lunch at Club Serrano, a relaxed little lunch spot in Plaza Serrano/Plaza Cortázar where you can sit on the rooftop café/bar after 2pm. I order a very healthy caprese salad and freshly squeezed orange juice and watch the world go by from above before I head down into the throng. The waiter seems amused that I like to come here by myself and asks me a few questions about where I'm from, what I do etc. Always good to have a bit of banter when you're solo-dining...

Coffee, Havannet, magazine, biscuits and sunshine... bliss

One of my absolute favourite things about this country is Havanna, the coffee-shop-and-chocolatier chain that specialises in alfajores, a sandwich-biscuit a bit like a Wagon Wheel, filled with delicious, sickly-sweet dulce de leche. I have actually already eaten one too many alfajores though, and my new favourite treat is the Havannet - a dark chocolate, upside-down cone filled with dulce de leche with a biscuit bottom. A bit like a Walnut Whip, only filled with soft fudge instead of marshmallow. Probably one of the most calorific things money can buy, but I couldn't care less - it's divine. I stop off mid-shop for a café con leche and a Havannet with free biscuits - ludicrously expensive with the inflation in this country, but still nice and relaxed and no more expensive than, say, Starbucks.

They have an offer on boxes of Havannets and biscuits if you buy a coffee there, so I buy a couple of cases to take home as Christmas presents and one for the office, which should make me popular over Christmas...

A Long Weekend of Buenos Aires Dining

No sooner have I got settled again in Buenos Aires than my newly-wed couple friends arrive for a 10-day late honeymoon. They are staying with me in Buenos Aires for a few days either side of a trip to Mendoza and a bit of gaucho ranch life, so I set out to show them my favourite dining spots in the capital, plus a few new ones we'll discover together...

Thursday 24 November - Bardot and Soberbia 22 

We kick off at Bardot on Honduras for a pre-dinner cocktail. I've walked past this place many a time with its purple and pink interior and thought it looked like a trendy brothel, but apparently it's a Peruvian-Japanese sushi restaurant. Unfortunately, the restaurant tends to look empty whenever I walk past, so we just sit outside for a cocktail on the street. The Pisco Sour - a cocktail made of pisco liqueur, lemon, angostura and egg white - is simply perfect and refreshing.

Bardot, Honduras - image from http://www.restobardot.com/es/index.html

After the cocktails, we end up at Soberbia 22 because we leave it a bit too late to book and everywhere else is so busy. I really fancy going to Las Cabras on the corner of Fitz Roy and El Salvador, but unfortunately the place is heaving and they can't sit us down until 11pm and my friends - newly arrived from London - are a little too tired for an Argie-late mealtime. So we head to 22, a pretty empty-looking parrilla on Fitz Roy with Guatemala - the only place we can find that's not completely heaving. 

We sit outside on the street and, unfortunately, see a lone cockroach scuttle up the wall right next to our table, but we're not too perturbed since it's not inside the restaurant and it's a hot, hot night - I guess we can't take it out too much on Soberbia 22. The steak is pretty good and my newly arrived travel friends are perfectly happy, so we all go to bed well-fed and well-rested.

Friday 25 November - Cabaña Las Lilas

Friday evening, we head to Cabaña Las Lilas, a famous, touristy steak joint in the popular Puerto Madero port area. I have been here twice before, in 2007 and 2008 - the first time brilliant, the second time disappointing - so am not sure what to expect of it in 2011. One thing's for sure though, the place couldn't fail to disappoint any newcomer to Buenos Aires in terms of its decor and atmosphere - as you walk through from the front entrance of the restaurant on Alicia Moreau de Justo, you can't fail to notice the enormous raw steaks on show in the kitchen, where you can also watch the chefs at work.

A chef at work at Cabana Las Lilas

We barely know where to start with this huge array of steak on offer... Ojo de Bife, Bife de Chorizo, Asado de Tira, or the enormous Bife de Costilla... 

We kick off with the Cabaña Las Lilas house cocktail, consisting of gin, peach pulp and champagne. Then, because we are mad, sun-obsessed English folk, we decide to sit outside on the terrace in the baking evening heat - a decision we later regret.

I've somehow managed to wangle myself a free steak and wine lunch at an Argentine mining company's end-of-year press do, so I can't quite manage another steak and I order the pollo de campo - an absolutely exquisitely grilled free-range chicken, which I cannot fault. The others order steak and are not disappointed in the slightest. The accompaniments are enormous and we're so full we can't quite manage the limoncello and sweet treats that come with our coffees... 

Limoncello at Cabana Las Lilas

I can safely say Cabaña Las Lilas is happily back in my good books. Yes, it is certainly one of the most expensive places to eat in Buenos Aires - as you might expect in one of the most touristy areas - but the food is abundant and can't be faulted, and my guests are well-nourished and delighted.

Saturday 26 November - Osaka Part II

After an afternoon in La Boca, in which we get scammed by a cafe bar that gives us a 50-peso note as change that we only realise is fake when a taxi driver refuses to accept it, the three of us are happy to be back in the comfort and safety of relatively scam-free Palermo Hollywood in time for dinner. I am proud to take my guests to Osaka, and I dare even say the sushi restaurant is even better second time round. We order the usual mix of salmon sashimi, mouth-watering ceviche and a few hot dishes and, of course, the essential Saturday-night pisco sour for good measure.

Sunday 27 November - Olsen and San Telmo Sunday

Lazy Olsen Sunday brunch

We arrive early for brunch at the well-known Scandinavian vodka-bar-come-brunch-spot Olsen (on Gorriti 5870) as I know it's hard to get a table here on Sundays - the place is full by 12:30. The menu is super-simple but it works: think coffee, orange juice and scrambled egg or omelette. We while away a couple of hours in this hip, open-air eatery (though it's a little too early for vodka).

After brunch, we jump in a taxi to San Telmo, the neighbourhood known for its Sunday antique markets, funky gift shops and restaurants. We wind up in an old deli place with a cool interior and ask if we can just order some cheese and bits of ham and salami. The old man on the deli counter looks at us as if we're complete nutters for ordering off-menu, but eventually turns up with an enormous plate of cheese, olives and assorted ham. Seeing our order, a couple at a nearby table asks for the same and, soon enough, we've started a trend and the entire restaurant is chomping away on huge plates of delicatessen items. 

Deli food in San Telmo

Unfortunately, I fail to note the name of the restaurant, so it will just have to be known as the unnamed San Telmo deli...

The unnamed restaurant in San Telmo