Waffles, in Buenos Aires?

Tags

autumn evening, cheap eats, san telmo, waffles

The Wafles Sur café is a puddle of bright yellow light on a dark San Telmo street. The pale pine tables and stools, bright red cushions and a couple of shabby-chic chandeliers call your attention on a gloomy autumn evening. I’m desperate for a place to sit down after a maddening journey downtown (whoever knew getting from Hurlingham to San Telmo in rush hour would take so long…) and because I see the brightly lit patrons have pints of beer in front of them.

Once I’m settled inside the cosy room I’m wondering if – hoping – the waffles will be Birds Eye Potato Waffles (“they’re waffly versatile”). I hadn’t realised I’d been missing Birds Eye waffles but now they are all I can think about. I order mine with Roquefort, cream cheese and ham and when no Birds Eye products make an appearance I am not surprised, but I am a little disappointed. However, the Wafles Sur waffles make a decent change from toasted bread and I am keen on Roquefort with anything. The cheesy topping with salad dressing has a refreshing tang of fresh black pepper; sadly lacking, in my opinion, on a lot of dishes.

I realise I have ordered, basically, a ham and cheese sandwich but there is always room for another ham and cheese sandwich in my life. Other waffly options on a meat and cheese theme include pancetta and cheese, beef and cheese, and plain old ham and cheese. Avocado makes an appearance and they advertise bacon, but I am wary of bacon. Sweet options are all kinds of fruits with dulce de leche. Washed down with a bottle of Gülmen Patagonian negra (dark) beer or a draft lager, the waffles make a filling, cheapish dinner ($18 pesos for the Roquefort waffles and $15 pesos for the beer.)

But I do see a gap in the market for a cafe in Buenos Aires serving frozen foods like Findus Crispy Pancakes, Birds Eye fish fingers and fishcakes, all served with Heinz baked beans and mushy peas. If only these import restrictions could be lifted to allow unlimited frozen foods from the UK….

Birds Eye Potato Waffles, they’re waffly versatile. But not available in Buenos Aires (pic from Birds Eye website)

Wafles Sur
San Telmo
Estados Unidos 509
http://www.waflessur.com/

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Ñoqui day update

Tags

cheap eats, delia smith, food, Malbec, noquis

Here’s what I discovered last night: making ñoquis is no walk in the park. These seemingly innocuous little pieces of potato are hardcore.

Ñoqui-making is not for the faint of heart. I should have realised this – anything you have to knead and roll out spells trouble. Earlier in the evening the guy at the store round the corner had offered us ñoqui-in-a-bag mix, which may have been a better choice considering it took until past midnight before we had them on our plates, thus missing the point of ñoquis del 29. Admittedly I did start the production process a little late but still, I’m not sure a mid-week meal should take upwards of two hours to prepare and serve.

I ended up with flour everywhere and ñoqui mix stuck to my hands and I didn’t know how to make the little markings with a fork so they ended up a bit like squashed beetles.

However, those basil and sweet potato ñoquis did taste good. I put a generous slug of Malbec in the sauce and the result was satisfying. We forgot to put money under the plates, although because we didn’t eat on the 29th it probably wouldn’t have brought us luck anyway. Next time I’m making them in advance and freezing them.

Courtesy of Delia Smith, who probably knows how to make noquis

Leap year: extra ñoqui day for Argentina

Tags

cheap eats, food, leap day, noquis, tradition

I don’t need to propose on Leap Day, having already married my lovely husband in January, so I need another way to mark February 29^th. Luckily every 29^th of the month is ñoqui day in Argentina. On ñoquis del 29, people all over the country get together as a family to feast on these plump, fluffy parcels of potato. Many restaurants offer free ñoquis if you buy a drink or dessert.

Why ñoquis (or gnocchi)? Argentina is a country flavoured by Italian immigration in many diverse ways, not least in the food argentines enjoy today. Ñoquis came with the Italians when they arrived on Argentina’s shores at the beginning of the 20^th century. Why the 29^th? Some say the tradition of ñoquis on the 29^th arrived with the Italians at the same time. It’s the 29^th because this is the day before payday, when asados are mostly out of the question but ñoquis created out of potato, flour and salt are blessedly cheap.

A more poetic explanation comes from the legend of San Pantaleón, the 8^th century patron saint of Venice. Pantaleón performed miracles in northern Italy, including assuring one farmer that he would have an excellent year despite his poverty. The farmer’s harvest was spectacular, and because Pantaleón pronounced his prophecy on the 29^th this is the day people commemorate with ñoquis, the dish of the poor.

Tradition says we should put a peso or a banknote under our plate of ñoquis to attract wealth in the future. I haven’t tried this yet (hence the lack of millionaire status) but will do tonight when I try these ñoquis de batata y albahaca, sweet potato and basil gnocchi, which I just found on the From Argentina with Love blog. Sweet potatoes are a small departure from the traditional, but it just happens they’re what I have in the cupboard at the moment. And everyone loves basil.
~~

P.S. I’m going to ask Mario about this later as I am not sure if it’s true, but apparently the word ñoqui in argentine slang describes a government employee who does no work but always turns up just before payday to collect his pay check. Not a lot of those about….

Desnivel. Worth the trip?

Tags

cheap eats, chimichurri sauce, food, lomo, parrilla, san telmo

No longer dirt cheap, but is Desnivel still one of the best?

Rushing in from the rain with water puddling in our sandals, lightning streaking the wet sky, we find Desnivel is already packed at 9pm. Clearly this San Telmo institution is still pulling the crowds. We’re here with visiting family, who’ve already eaten more than their fair share of red meat on their Argentina tour, and we’re promising cheap, quality eats. Will Desnivel restaurant live up to our hype?

The entrance with its delivery bikes and loiterers waiting for tables coughs “pizza takeaway” more than “quality Buenos Aires restaurant” but a glance to the left reveals Desnivel’s true colours. The battered grill spits out chorizo, ribs, morcilla blood sausage and chunks of beef. The chef hacks at the meat to produce lean lomo cuts and chunky, fat-drilled steaks.

In a city where you’re never more than a metre from a steak, it’s hard to single out parrilla restaurants for tourists that merit special mention, but Desnivel manages to be memorable. Homemade chimichurri sauce and hunks of bread are basic but tasty. The colita cuadril with mustard sauce and fried potatoes ($45) is big, brash and chunky but tenderly cooked and peppery. The waiter explains the peceto cut (I only hear something about an animal’s leg and the words tasty, dry and pressed over the noise so I’m really none the wiser.) I’m on a budget so I reluctantly pass over the chance to order lomo pimiento ($83), which I know from more affluent times to be satisfyingly spicy and rich. My aunt skips out of the cow-fest and orders homemade pasta and pesto. She’s not overly impressed, but the meat is always going to be the draw here.

Desnivel is always a bit hot and sweaty, always brightly lit and boisterous, always boasting a big group of assorted backpackers as well as couples and locals. The tiny two-floored place is always filled with waiters rushed off their feet, climbing the stairs dripping meat juices from laden platters. Some are friendlier than others – one visit we got stuck with the most miserable bastard in Buenos Aires, who kicked our chairs and dropped crumbs over my lap.

Desnivel doesn’t offer the classiest cuts or the fanciest flavours, and sometimes the forks bend when you spear your provolone cheese, but this is value. The meat is succulent and there’s so much of it you’re drinking two bottles of Malbec before you’re finished. The days when you’d make friends madly jealous telling them about the Desnivel steak-for-US$2 are gone. Blame the burgeoning economy. But the experience is addictive. You know it’s worth the trip when you feel entirely satisfied; with the place, the price and the fullness in your belly.

Defensa 855
San Telmo