Traditional specialities of Uruguay

Lets be honest, my Spanish, while passable in most situations is not shit hot, and there are lots of words I don’t know like… bucket, contact lenses and hair ties – which incidentally kills me every time, as it is ALWAYS the one thing I never have enough of - however the section of any menu that says Especialidades Tradicionales is pretty self explanatory really, regardless of your competency level the clue is in the name.

Well let me tell you, I got a crick in my neck from all the double taking involved in reading said menus,  when I discovered the colourful, heart attack inducing and international array of foods that are considered traditional in this little country.

1. Chivito – ‘sandwiche’ or ‘al plato’ (pictured)

A massive road crash of food piled onto a plate, or into a sandwich, none of which have any relation or correlation to the other elements involved. Starting from the bottom up, and be glad you couldn’t see it all, the actual contents of this plate are….

Potato salad, frozen peas and corn, palm hearts, tomato, lettuce, pickled capsicum (peppers), steak, ham, a side of fries, and a fried egg, thrown in for good measure, to add a little more white and yellow to the plate.

To be honest I couldn’t find a massive amount of background on this taste bud extravaganza, and could only assume that this traditional dish came about as an (un)happy accident one day, when someone in the ye olden days was starving and went to make a sandwich but couldn’t decide what to put in it so they cooked the contents of their fridge instead. On realising that they also had no bread, the mêlée was unceremoniously plonked onto one plate, as they were low on dishes. Clearly it was a man who devised this concoction, so the more likely story is that there was only one clean dish in the house. As he was sitting down to dig in, his friend popped round, saw what he was eating and decided to copy him. Thus the Chivito al plato was born.  And judging by the amount of people who eat them, it is going down a storm!

2. Milanesa – Breaded meat, normally beef or chicken. Often eaten in a sandwich, with tomato, mayo and lettuce – very tasty – but shown here with fries and salad…for those of us that don’t feel the need to eat bread rolls 4 – 6 times a day.

All I can tell you is pretty much every food under the sun influences Uruguayan cuisine, and the Scandinavians and the Italians were no different in this instance. For some reason eating this always reminds me of my dad, as he was always a fan of a good bit of breaded meat when I was growing up.

3. Pizza. Well you know what that looks like, don’t you.

As with the above, the European influence certainly extends to pizza here, but with more cheese than you could possibly have imagined was able to fit on a pizza and eaten in a sitting.

4. Gnocchi – Potato pasta, in a nutshell. (Figuratively only, of course)

Quite an history behind Gnocchi and Uruguayans really - most places only serve it on the 29^th of each month, as traditionally that was just before pay day, and generally the time when people were poorest…. and all they could afford to cook was potatoes, which they turned into Gnocchi. Possibly they didn’t realise what a goldmine of possibilities they had on their hands, I mean the things you can do with potatoes is a whole book in itself, but more likely they couldn’t afford the additional ingredients involved to make potatoes extra delicious – either way, that is the Gnocchi story.

5. STEAK!!!!!! Needs no introduction nor explanation, but it is worth noting that Uruguay consumes more steak per capita these days than even Argentina. Bear in mid however that while the statistic is very big, the country is very small

Interesting facts about Mate

According to both my eyes and Wikipedia, Mate is the favourite hot drink of many a Southern South American* country, and to be quite frank, it kicks teas’ ass in the intrigue-ness stakes and randomness of both partaking and creating of said beverage. However, having tried it a couple of times I can say I am not really a fan. Mostly because of the sheer amount of admin involved – there are a lot of parts but also because as it doesn’t have a lid I would 100% regularly spill it down my front. I know my limits.

Somewhat resembling chaff or dried and chopped grass, Mate is brewed utilising the leaf of the green Yerba Mate plant – so far so like tea.

However…

The first in the long line of intriguing facts about Mate is that its aficionados don’t deign to use something as bog standard as a normal tea cup or mug – no they use a special hollowed out gourd, think squash like vegetable but not, which is often inlaid with silver or other metal to make it look pretty, with intricate designs carved on the sides…even the mass produced ones in the supermarket are quite attractive vessels really.

While only a few tea leaves suffice in the making of a good strong cuppa, an entire gourd full, filled right to the top is required in the making of Mate. I have asked why and never been give a decent reply, so can only assume it’s just the way it is done, as is sometimes the way. Once the gourd is filled, a special silver straw (bombilla) is jammed in at one side to make a place to pour the hot but never boiling water which is then trickled in a little bit at a time, smooshing the leaves down to make the flavour.

The drinking itself of Mate is also a full on process, unsurprisingly I guess considering the palaver one has to go to make the drink. Often made to be shared, it is a common sight to see a whole family drinking from the same Mate cup, and there is normally a Mate gourd on the go in any given social situation. Cant see the sharing aspect going down well in other countries – all those dirty sharing germs.

Mate, we were also rather surprised to discover, is the choice of hot homemade beverage for the man or woman on the go, literally going anywhere and doing anything.

South America is a massive continent, and we spend a lot of time on buses – as travel agent on our excursion I can honestly say I may have somewhat underestimated that vastness but anywho…..without fail, everyone traipses onto the bus and settles down. All is quiet for a moment, then there is the unmistakable pppphhhiiisshhh of many a thermos being opened, and the shake shake rustle rustle as the mate is poured into the cup. This is because; to drink Mate one must also carry the accoutrements of Mate – a GIANT bag of mate, a straw, and a thermos of hot water. Handily, some Mate drinking genius back in the day, probably a Gaucho, who is now I imagine a millionaire, designed a nifty little rounded leather bag which fits all the bits and bobs in nicely, as well as a spot for a fully loaded Mate cup, ready to go at any given opportunity...Boy is there opportunity

We saw people in Argentina and Uruguay and Brazil drinking Mate while…on the bus (as  above), on the back of a motorbike, on the front of a motorbike, driving a car,  taking a stroll along the beach, walking the dog, going for a run, doing the shopping, having a chat on the side of the road after getting out of the car, in offices, in cafes; everywhere you can possibly imagine a person being, there is the opportunity for Mate consumption. And there are a lot of people in Southern South America*!

* Yes I am aware that a few non – Southern South American countries also drink mate, but it does nothing for my alliteration.

Rad BBQ's of San Antonio de Areco

San Antonio de Areco is the symbolic centre of the Argentinean cowboy or Gaucho as they are called here - not to be confused with Groucho, as my husband did on a regular basis, which is quite clearly an all together different kettle of fish. 

Considering the amount of cowboys we saw I would say this is pretty damn true, however it did, in all fairness have a lot to do with the fact that we, and several thousand other people were actually in town to see the annual 'Dia de la Tradicion', the biggest day in the Gaucho calendar. Impressive displays of horsemanship, strutting in ones finery, and machismo were certainly the order of the day, but there was also a lively market selling everything the discerning Gaucho could possibly require in his day to day escapades on the pampas, which I wasn't allowed anywhere near for some reason. 

Most importantly however, and eclipsing all other amazing sights were seriously large amounts of what can only be described as awe inspiring BBQ's (Asados), which were set up to feed the hungry masses. 

Very very good word to remember if you ever find yourself in the Argentinean campo (country side) in need of a tasty side of beef (bife or carne), along with cerveza (beer) to wash the steak down with,  bano (toilet), and 'check please' (la cuenta por favour) for when you have eaten too much and need to have a snooze under the nearest  comfy tree (arbol). 

The steak story

Long long ago (the 70’s) in a place far far away (well I’m sure it took longer to get to Argentina then…were planes even invented??) there was a massive parrilla on Avenida Florida in Buenos Aires, the name of which has been lost in the fog of time and dodgy memory. Huge barbeques with whole pigs and other such tasty animals being roasted over open flames were enticingly positioned in the windows, luring the punters in, in much the same way the sirens lured Odysseus, but with food not singing and scantily clad-ness (which quite frankly could have been a bit of a random combo).

Legend tells of a brave and hungry, yet slightly idiotic man (my dad) being challenged to a duel of eating by a loud American man at the next table over a piece of steak interestingly named ‘Grand Baby Beef’. The cut in question was so large it dangled over the edges of the massive plate it was presented on, and was most likely an actual entire side of a cow. Why the word ‘baby’ was even present in the name is anyone’s guess. Anywho, my dad, who I might add was always keen on a good duel, gamely took up the challenge, and won! The loud American was suitably impressed, and my dad swaggered back to the hotel with my mum, proud as punch.

However, the moral of this story, as anyone who has achieved such a thing can tell you, is that you go home and lie on your bed with your heart thudding so heavily in your chest you think you are about to have a heart attack, and this is before the meat induced sweats come upon you, as your body struggles in vain to process the biggest piece of protein you have ever given it.

Fast forward to 2004 when my husband and I decide to visit Buenos Aires, and ask my dad where to go for steak……the long and the short of it being that we have the best and most gigantic steak ever, my husband ordering the mythical ‘Grand Baby Beef’ as he too is not shy of a challenge, and managing to polish that off, as well as some fries and half of my steak…being followed home by dogs who can smell the meat on us a mile away, and lying on our beds with the blood pounding in our ears, our hearts thudding in agony, and being CONVINCED we are about to die.

Soooooo 2010, keen to repeat this fabulously painful experience, we trot down Avenida Florida once again, past the street vendors and dizzyingly vast array of black market ‘handicraps’ (short hand for crappy handicrafts) to where we think the parrilla is, but it is gone!!!!! Thinking we have just gone to the wrong end of the street we walk the entire length of the avienda, but to no avail – the gigantic institution of (insert name here) has gone, despite having survived the last 30 odd years. Devastated - and were really were – we headed back to Palermo and to another parrilla, where we have a perfectly sufficient but not even remotely heart attack inducing steak, which actually meant we had room for salad AND desert, which was nice….I guess, if you like that kind of thing.

A beginning

Raised strict Meat-atarian, but taught not to be afraid of a few rogue vegetables that stray my way, I come from a family of good solid foodies, all of which operate on ye olde snooze you lose policy when it comes to eating; meals are open warfare, and not even the tasty morsels on your own plate are safe from poaching. There is no Switzerland. If the food is good, and it always is, its anyones game.

Encouraged to be adventurous, and give it all a fair trial, I have eaten my fair share of random and ‘mystery’ meats and foods in my time. Some I wouldn’t recommend, but others have been a pleasant surprise.  Peruvian guinea pig good, picked Portuguese snails….maybe an acquired taste….for someone else who is not me, but hey you live and learn.

Four months travelling around South America is the PERFECT opportunity to do a spot more culinary exploring, and writing about it means I have no choice but to go out of my way to find some tasty treats…and lets be honest…some not so tasty, but worthwhile experiences none the less (as long as there is a flushing toilet in the vicinity). Win win I say.