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A Curry from Buenos Aires

You never know what will turn up in the book shops along Avenida Corrientes in Buenos Aires. Besides the new books, there are old, out of print books, used books and overstocks that failed to find buyers.

On this last trip I turned up a real prize, “Los Platos de Mi Mesa” (“Dishes from my Table”) by a restaurateur of the past, Roberto Fernandez Beyro.

In addition to owning a popular restaurant in Buenos Aires called Monty’s, now long gone, Fernandez Beyro had managed the kitchens of the exclusive Jockey Club and Plaza Hotel and for a time had a restaurant in Rio de Janeiro.

Writing more than 20 years ago, he lamented the lack of gastronomic culture in Argentina, where traditional dishes inherited from Spain and enriched with contributions from other South American countries and the Caribbean were “deformed,” and attempts at creativity produced “absurd mixtures.”

His antidote was this book of simple, well thought out recipes, mostly continental, but also traditional and international.

I tried his curry de pollo (chicken curry) and found it delightful, even elegant. Showing a restrained continental approach, it's more like braised chicken and vegetables seasoned with curry powder than a spicy Indian dish.

Fernandez Beyro served the curry with rice timbales on what must have been lovely occasions. There would have been wine too, because he was an admirer of the wines produced in Argentina.

My accompaniments were basmati rice seasoned with a yellow condiment for rice that I bought in a supermarket in Buenos Aires; a fruity chutney and a red wine, as Fernandez Beyro recommended reds with chicken.

On the basis of just this dish, I can say that my 10 pesos (about $3) were well spent.

CURRY DE POLLO
Adapted from “Los Platos de Mi Mesa” by Roberto Fernandez Beyro (Emece Editores; 1986)

2 pounds chicken pieces, such as legs and thighs
Salt
1 onion, finely chopped
2 small stalks celery, chopped
1 ½ carrots, cut into small dice
1 small apple, peeled and chopped
1 small yellow chile or other chile, seeded and chopped
1 tablespoon curry powder
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon flour
Black pepper
¼ cup whipping cream

Trim the chicken pieces of skin and excess fat. Place in a Dutch oven. Cover with water and add salt to taste. Bring to a boil, cover and simmer until tender, about 45 minutes. Let cool in the broth, then remove the chicken pieces and tear off the meat, discarding the bones. Drain the broth and reserve.

Meanwhile, prepare the onion, celery, carrots, apple and chile and set aside. Blend the curry powder with 3 tablespoons of the reserved broth after it has cooled.

Heat the olive oil in the cleaned Dutch oven. Add the vegetables, apple and chile and cook until reduced and very tender, 20 to 25 minutes, stirring occasionally to keep from burning.

Add the flour, 1 cup of the reserved broth and the curry powder mixture. Blend well. Add the chicken pieces and gently combine. Add salt and pepper to taste. Cover and simmer gently 10 minutes. When ready to serve, stir in the cream and heat through.

If the curry should thicken too much, stir in some of the reserved broth. Use the remainder to cook rice to go with the curry. 

Makes 4 servings.

The Best of Lima and Buenos Aires

Selecting the “best of” anything is purely subjective. So this list of  “bests,” drawn from my recent days in  Lima and Buenos Aires, reflects only my own reactions. The next trip could produce an entirely different list of “bests.”

Fuller reviews of most of these restaurants will appear on www.tableconversation.com in the next few weeks.  One thing is certain. Both cities offer plenty of good eating. 

LIMA, PERU:

Best Restaurant: Pescados Capitales, a seafood restaurant in Miraflores.

Best Main Dishes:  Pork loin glazed with algarrobina (carob) sauce  and Trujillo style arroz con pollo (chicken with rice) at El Senorio de Sulco in Miraflores.

Best Dessert:  A tie between cherimoya  mousse on a crunchy praline crust at Pescados Capitales and coconut-topped arroz zambito, an exceptionally good version of a  traditional rice pudding, at El Bolivariano in Pueblo Libre.

Best Drink: Pisco Sour.

Best Coffee: Peet's coffee at my guest house in Miraflores.

Toughest Ticket: Getting into La Mar, the trendy restaurant on Avenida La Mar in Miraflores.

Best Food Buy: The normous caramelized pecans from Ica at a dried fruit and nut stall in the San Isidro Municipal Market.

Best Non-Food Buy: Salad forks and spoons made of beautifully grained olive wood from Arequipa.

Nicest Surprise: Stumbling across a copy of the out-of-print book “Los Chifas en El Peru” (a history of Chinese restaurants in Peru) by Lima journalist Mariela Balbi.

Nicest Moment: Snagging a table at La Gloria in Miraflores, ranked as one of Lima’s top restaurants, on my last night there without a reservation.

Greatest Disappointment: Gloomy, sodden weather.

Next Trip: Another try at La Mar and a side trip to Arequipa, renowned for its cuisine.

BUENOS AIRES

Best Restaurants: Almanza in Palermo Viejo and Social Paraiso in Palermo Soho.

Best Main Dish: Bondiola (pork shoulder) at Almanza, tender enough to eat with a spoon.

Best Dessert: A tie between burrata with fresh and preserved fruits, strips of local cheese, aged balsamic vinegar and black pepper at Damblee in Balvanera and crisp, sweet dried apple slices layered with passion fruit mousse and accompanied by a scoop of Sichuan pepper ice cream at Social Paraiso.

Best Drink: Domingo Molina Malbec 2003 from Salta.

Best Coffee: Café cortado (coffee layered with hot milk) accompanied by candied orange peel shreds at Croque Madame, the restaurant at the National Museum of Decorative Art in Barrio Norte. The museum was once the mansion of the elite Errazuriz Alvear family, which makes the setting as alluring as the drink.

Toughest Ticket: Getting into tourist magnet La Cabrera in Palermo Viejo  at night without a reservation. The wait can last an hour.

Best Food Buy: A luscious glazed nut  tart at Las Familias bakery near Social Paraiso.

Best Non-Food Buy: A pizza slicer made in Argentina.

Nicest Surprise: Finding really good Korean food in a distant part of Buenos Aires.

Nicest moment: Sipping a glass of fragrant Torrontes in the late afternoon at Cartoon Bar and Restaurant in Recoleta.

Greatest Disappointment: Tough, fatty grilled matambrito (a thin cut of pork) at El Trapiche in Palermo Viejo although the restaurant is known for this dish. 

Next Trip:  Back to old favorites such as El Yugo in Recoleta and Il Vero Arturito in Abasto. And I’ll bring home a sack of medialunas, the delicious crescent rolls that Portenos adore. 

Celebrate with Carbonada

July is independence month in South America. Venezuela celebrates July 5, Argentina, July 9 and Peru, July 28.

Along with parades, flag-waving and speeches, the celebrations play up traditional foods. In Argentina, where I’ve taken part in independence festivities, restaurants promote indigenous dishes such as locro (a corn stew), empanadas, humitas (akin to tamales) and carbonada, an extraordinary sweet-sour combination of beef, vegetables and fruits.

My favorite place to eat carbonada is La Querencia in Buenos Aires.  One taste, and I was so enchanted that I hunted down a shop selling the rustic brown pottery bowls in which this stew is traditionally served.

Back home, I went to work recreating it, with great success. Beef stew sounds like a hearty winter dish. In Argentina, July is winter (the seasons are opposite from those in the northern hemisphere), but carbonada is so light that it wouldn’t be out of place on a July menu in the United States.

That’s because fruits and vegetables dominate the meat, which is cut into small pieces, not hearty chunks. The sweetness comes from peaches (La Querencia uses canned peaches; I use dried), raisins and a dash of sugar. These may sound like odd components for a stew, but the combination is delicious. Carrots and yams add sweetness too. The other vegetables, all New World natives, are tomatoes, corn and potatoes. Some versions add yellow squash as well. 

Carbonada is also popular in Peru, which is not surprising, because Lima was Spain’s seat of power in South America, and the stew is most likely a new world interpretation of a Spanish dish.

The rustic food of northwestern Argentina, where Inca influence was once strong, dominates La Querencia’s menu. The restaurant goes all out for independence day, decorating lavishly with the blue and white Argentine flag.

Traditional dishes such as empanadas, locro, carbonada, pastel de papas (an Argentine version of shepherd’s pie) and humita en chala, a grated corn mixture wrapped in a fresh corn husk, are on the menu all year, not just during patriotic holidays.  I’ve eaten carbonada elsewhere, but in my opinion, that at La Querencia is the best.

La Querencia, corner Junin and Juncal, Recoleta, Buenos Aires. Tel: 4821-1888. 

CARBONADA

8 dried peach halves
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 pound beef stew meat, cut in ½-inch cubes
1 small onion, finely chopped
½ pound tomatoes, peeled and chopped
2 cups beef broth
1 cup peach soaking liquid
1 ½ tablespoons sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons salt, plus more as needed
2 bay leaves
2 yams
2 large red potatoes
2 large carrots
1 ½ cups fresh corn kernels
3 tablespoons raisins
2 cups water
12 fresh chives

The day before, place the peach halves in a medium bowl and cover generously with water. Let stand overnight. The next day, drain the peaches, reserving the water, and cut in 1/3-inch wide strips. Set aside.

Heat the oil in a Dutch oven. Add the beef and cook until browned and any liquid cooks away, about 10 minutes. Push to one side. Add the onion and cook until softened, then add the tomatoes and cook 5 minutes, until tender.

Add the beef broth, peach soaking liquid, sugar, 1 ½ teaspoons salt and the bay leaves. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer 40 minutes.

Meanwhile, peel the yams and red potatoes. Cut each in quarters lengthwise, then crosswise in ½-inch pieces. Peel the carrots and cut crosswise in ½-inch slices. Place the potatoes and carrots in cold water to cover until ready to use.

After 40 minutes, add to the beef the drained yams, potatoes and carrots, the corn kernels, raisins and 2 cups water. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer 45 minutes. Do not allow the liquid to boil away. Taste the broth, and add more salt as needed.

Serve in heated bowls. Top each serving with 2 chive strands.

Makes 6 servings.

A Last Lunch in Buenos Aires

The challenge was major--a last meal before leaving Buenos Aires. How could I choose a place so special that I would depart happy and satisfied?  Not a problem. My friend Dan Perlman reviews restaurants (see Another Dinner at Dan's). And he made the decision.

“Some of the best food in the city,” he said, as we headed toward Almanza in Palermo Viejo. At lunch, the restaurant offers a three-course fixed price menu that must be one of the town’s great bargains. It’s not a case of three inexpensive dishes drummed up for a low-priced lunch. For 35 pesos, about $12, you can choose a first course, main dish and dessert from the regular menu.

The food is interesting, artistically presented, and far outshone my last 5-star meal in Los Angeles (I won’t say where that was).

Owner Martin Baquero sent out an appetizer plate of rabbit liver pate with an orange reduction as we debated what to order. I started with a beautiful plate of warm camembert set off by a swirl of herbed walnut oil, tomato confit and a stack of greens. Dan had nettle soup, which was creamy and pleasant. 

When he suggested  pate canard confitado—duck confit—I hesitated, because my last go-round with duck in Los Angeles had been unpleasantly greasy. Dan was right, though. This duck was another story.  Marinated, then cooked slowly in duck fat, it was light, tender, moist and not a bit fatty. Mashed potatoes with thyme and onion marmalade set it off nicely. Meanwhile, he ate fusilli with tiny albondigas of beef, porcini mushrooms and nut pesto.

The desserts were beautiful.  I liked the chunky almond ice cream that came with kadaif, a roll of Middle Eastern shredded pastry on a plate splashed with multi-colored sauces, but I coveted the tarragon ice cream that went with Dan’s apple tart.

A Bodega del Fin del Mundo Pinot Noir 2005 was a nice change from the fruit-laden Malbecs that we had been drinking.  But I can’t say that airline food was a nice change after having eaten so well at Almanza.

Almanza, corner Godoy Cruz and Charcas, Palermo Viejo, Buenos Aires. Tel: 15-8515-3749

She Purrs for Palmeritas

Just before leaving Buenos Aires, I rushed to Louis XV, a pastry shop near my hotel, to buy cookies--not for me, but for my cat. Miss Lily adores palmeritas, the flaky twists that are known as palmiers in European bakeries and orejas in Mexican panaderias.

The night I brought her home, she snatched a Mexican sugar cookie from my hand. I knew then that I had to keep her, because she appreciated good food as much as I do. 

Miss Lily had been dumped in downtown Los Angeles. Sensing that we had something in common, she had shrieked at me from the plants where she was hiding.

Her tastes are eclectic—broccoli, asparagus tips, fresh corn kernels and other things yet to be revealed. But her passion is cookies. Crisp cookies. Nothing soft or cake-like.

Argentine palmeritas are her favorites, because they’re so small.  Those at Louis XV are barely an inch  across—just her size.

Palmeras are larger, suitable for humans. Especially the chocolate-dipped palmeras at Del Pilar, across the street from Louis XV, where I often eat breakfast. But I couldn’t take those home. There was space for only one small box in my carry-on, and I couldn’t disappoint Miss Lily. She is nice enough to share, though. I get one bite before she grabs the rest, dashing away with her prize while I clean up the crumbs. 

Palmeritas are 4 pesos for 100 grams ($1.30 for about ¼ pound) at Louis XV Bomboneria and Pasteleria, Avenida Las Heras 2068, Recoleta, Buenos Aires. Tel: 4809-0011.

Sucre: Nothing's Better than Bondiola

I couldn’t believe my good luck. A friend invited me to lunch at Sucre, which is on every list of top places to eat in Buenos Aires. Critics praise it as cutting edge, prestigious, super trendy. Could it be that good?

  Judging by my lunch, it is.  By chance, I ordered what may be the best dish there—bondiola. Never heard of it? Neither had I, so I had to ask. In Argentina bondiola is pork shoulder, and Sucre’s bondiola de cerdo braseada was the finest pork I have had in a restaurant. 

The meat was amazingly tender, light and slightly smoky. Although the menu indicated it was braised, the pork had tantalizingly crusty brown edges, and I wondered if it had spent some time on the grill. That would explain the smokiness too. Golden slices of batata (sweet potato) and a salsa verde composed of parsley, celery and rosemary added color to the plate. 

The other dishes that day were fine too—grilled goat cheese provoleta and tiny croquettes of raw ham and manchego cheese for appetizers, along with salmon ceviche that was more delicate than the highly seasoned, acidic ceviches I had been eating in Lima. Perhaps that reflects local taste. 

My companions were happy with their shrimp risotto and salmon. And the desserts were good looking. Pale cocoa foam coated mine, a composition of dulce de leche cream, banana biscuits and pecans.  Coconut cheesecake came with mango ice cream and cilantro oil. The prettiest of the three was lemon-ginger mousse in a bowl of melon and tequila soup with nectarine slices and blueberries.

Sucre’s wine list is so long, you could devote the whole lunch hour or evening to making a choice. Because we had to match a variety of dishes, we picked Mounier Torrontes 2005, an aromatic white wine from Finca las Nubes, a winery near Cafayate in Salta province.   

Sucre is stark and industrial, but not austere. The design elements are interesting. The open kitchen stretches dramatically across the restaurant, and a wall of bottles behind the bar extends as high as one can see. The food stands out against the dark, subtle colors. Perhaps that was what the designers intended.   

Sucre, Sucre 676 (the restaurant and street names are the same), Belgrano, Buenos Aires. Tel: 4782-9082.

Hail Britanico

One night in Buenos Aires, I went with a friend to San Telmo for a tango concert, arriving so early that the manager of the hall sent us out to eat.  Following his suggestion, we walked down the street to Bar Britanico.

This decades old café is a neighborhood landmark, old fashioned and cozy. There aren’t many places where a $2 pizza would be set on a sparkling white tablecloth. l talked for days about that  pizza  It was so simple, so delicious, so absolutely perfect--nothing but  mozzarella melted over a thin layer of red sauce on a medium thick, nicely browned crust. The top was sprinkled with finely crushed oregano and decorated with green olives, nothing more. I wasn’t hungry, but I ate the whole thing.

I was lucky to get that pizza, because a year ago, Bar Britanico closed, causing a tremendous uproar among neighbors and regulars. The owners, miffed at having to pay more rent, departed with their olives, breads, hams and venerable cash register.  Eventually something was worked out, and Bar Britanico reopened, under new ownership I guess.

As a newcomer, I couldn’t tell how it had changed, or if it had changed at all.  But I’m glad to know that it survived. Great old places deserve respect--especially if they can turn out such good pizza.
 
Bar Britanico, Avenida Brasil 399, San Telmo, Buenos Aires. Tel: 4300-6894.   

Patriotic Puchero

“Sabado Noche, Puchero Criollo,” read the sign on the door of La Olla de Felix, a popular bistro in Recoleta, an upscale district of Buenos Aires. This meant that on Saturday night, owner/chef Felix Rueda would make puchero, which is Argentina’s version of Spain’s cocido, France’s pot au feu and New England’s boiled dinner.

Rueda offers this traditional dish four times a year, on national holidays.    Saturday night was the closest he could get to May 25, the anniversary of the day in 1810 when the criollos (Creoles) in Buenos Aires unseated the Spanish viceroy and established their own government.

Rueda was executive chef of the Ritz-Carlton in Paris for many years before returning to his native Argentina. Therefore, his puchero is no ordinary meal in a pot. The tureen that came to each table contained a beautifully constructed arrangement of meats and vegetables. And it was only part of a multi-course meal.

Dinner started with pate and bread, then moved on to marrow bones in broth. Each tureen was heaped with chunks of beef and pancetta, spicy red chorizo, dark morcilla (blood sausage) that was almost too rich to eat and  a colorful display of vegetables including cabbage, carrots, corn, and both white and sweet potatoes.

Another dish held white beans and garbanzos that had been cooked in the broth. And a condiment tray included tomato-based salsa criolla as well as mustard.  After so much food, it was a struggle to eat the slices of pale cheese and quince paste brought out for dessert.   

The next opportunity to taste Rueda’s puchero will be a Saturday close to July 9, the day Argentina was granted independence from Spain in 1816.  If you are in Buenos Aires at that time, visit La Olla de Felix at Juncal 1693 in Recoleta, or call 4811-2873 to make a reservation.

Another Dinner at Dan's

No Iron Chef ever faced such a challenge as Dan Perlman set for himself. Dan is the chef and wine expert who stages dinners in his home in Buenos Aires. This was my third visit, and a lucky one, because Dan excelled himself as he juggled three themes—the debut of the first commercial mustard, international towel day and the anniversary of the release of the first Star Wars movie.

We started with poached leeks accompanied by a Dijon mustard vinaigrette sprinkled with shichimi togarashi, a peppery Japanese seasoning. This took care of the mustard anniversary, which merited a festive wine, a sparkling Codorniu Maria Brut, a Chardonnay-Pinot Noir blend from Mendoza, Argentina.

For towel day, I thought we might have towel placemats or napkins, but Dan is more resourceful than that. His first course was straciatella, a clear soup into which he whisked a mixture of eggs, cheese and herbs to give the raggedy look of torn-up towels. The wine was Alfredo Roca Tocai Friulano 2006 from the San Rafael district of Mendoza.

Next came strozzapretti alla cervese, ropy, twisted, freshly made  pasta resembling wrung-out towels. On top was a mix of eggplant, cherry tomatoes, basil and plump shrimp so amazingly light that I thought they might float out of the dish. The wine for this course was Familia Gascon Rose 2005, a blend of Malbec and Sangiovese from Mendoza.

Still more towels appeared as ropa vieja, or old clothes. This was nothing like the beef ropa vieja that is common in Mexican restaurants in the United States, but a sophisticated arrangement of shredded duck on a sweet purple corn pancake with tangy marinated red onion and cabbage on the side.

To match such a riot of flavors was a challenge that Dan met handsomely with Callia Alta Shiraz-Bonarda 2006, a deeply colored, full-flavored red wine from the Tulum Valley in San Juan Province.

Dessert switched to Star Wars and delicious brown sugar, chocolate chip Wookie cookies. The chocolate dipping sauce on the side was flavored with banana and coconut liqueurs steeped with hot chile. We drank a sweet, late harvest Finca El Retiro Tardio 2006 from Tupungato, Mendoza, with the cookies, and thanked Dan for a fine dinner, although not once did we see a real towel or an invader from outer space.

For more details on the dinner, including photographs and how Dan prepared each dish, go to http://www.saltshaker.net/20070529/theme-wars

The Culprit Wasn't Dijon

 
The US State Department’s travel advisory about crime in Argentina brought an outcry when announced there in May.  This national affront was the big news on Page 1 of La Nacion in Buenos Aires. The article listed all the ugly things that could ruin a tourist’s vacation. 

These included muggings, purse snatchings and pocket pickings by armed thugs, getting hassled in public demonstrations, run down by merciless drivers, and forced to hand over funds from  ATM machines.

As a food person, I experienced the most appropriate form of attack, the mustard scam. This happened in Buenos Aires on Avenida 9 de Julio, normally a busy street but quiet that day. A tiny woman sprayed mustard over my companion and me in an attempt to rob so inept it was ludicrous. 

I never felt the spray—it hit the back of my jacket. But I knew what happened when I saw the woman dabbing at my friend’s sleeve with a moistened tissue. I have to admire her bravery, attacking a man so tall and powerfully built that he could have tossed her easily across 9 de Julio, which is so wide you have to cross it in several stages. There were no accomplices, and the woman got nothing from our pockets.

We moved on quickly, smelling so strongly of mustard that we would have been tempting prey for any hotdog addict.  We passed two more scammers, one of them rushing out of a side street, probably late to work. They carried only a bottle of water. The mustard was concealed.

I was curious about what brand they used, so I checked a local supermarket. There were plenty of choices in large squeeze bottles, but I won’t name the producers, because they weren’t at fault.  I do know that it wasn’t Dijon, or whole grain, or herb-flavored. Just something so stinky that it drove us to the nearest pizza parlor to drown it out with the equally powerful but far more appealing aromas of oregano, tomato sauce and melted mozzarella.