When a Steak isn’t a Steak. It’s Buffalo

San Martin offered us more culinary delights than just Patagonian Lamb. On one or two menus we saw deer and buffalo. Yes those water buffalos that the Italians imported from India to make Mozzarella. Well since Argentina is more or less made up of Italian immigrants. It was inevitable that fresh mozzarella would follow. Thankful it has.

How they shipped these beasts from India to Argentina is beyond me, but glad they did. As not only can we sample that moist tasty cheese, but we can also devour huge buffalo steaks. I could have just put Argentine size steaks, but huge was simpler. But you get that drift.

We wandered into Ku restaurant one night. It was packed. A good sign. We were hungry. So all other arguments for not eating here were thrown out of the window.

After a quick browse of the menu, it was very quick. As bambi featured in a steak version or as a stew. Not much competition there, as had too many steaks by this point, so fancied a change.

Lina had a much tougher dilemma. Ox heart or buffalo steak. I so wished she would had ordered both. But hey ho. She’s a little girl, and the meat is damn big. She opted for the buffalo steak.

Mine was actually a normal plate of food. Kinda surprising really, that they got the proportions just right. It was soft, juicy and the gravy was delightful. All served with some lovely pumpkin mash. Yum yum.

Lina’s steak was a huge piece of meat. This piece of sirloin cooked to perfect medium rare oozed subtle flavours and buffalo gameness. It was delish beyond measure. As I said she is only a small girl, and as a dutiful husband we swapped half way through and I devoured this steak. God it was good.

I actually wonder now how the ox heart would have been. Something if I see on a menu I will go straight for.

Patagonian Lamb – Boy had I missed it …..

I love lamb.. It’s the one piece of meat in Colombia I missed so much. For some reason a lot of Colombians have never eaten or/and do not want to try the gaminess and juiciness that is lamb, hogget or mutton. Depending on the age. Why? Maybe because it has a strong taste and most meat in Colombia has none.

You can buy it there. It’s been imported from Chile and it’s heavily wrapped in clingfilm, so you can not actually see what cut you are getting or how it looks like. It’s also stupidly expensive. So expensive that I never brought it. I wanted to, but I could not bring myself to pay those prices. Plus I kinda knew after a while that we were heading South to Argentina and Chile. I could wait.

Wait I did.

Even after a few days in Buenos Aires, I wanted to leave and sample the delights of Patagonian lamb. You can buy it in B.A. But is a sweltering hot summers day the best weather to appreciate something that has been brought up in wind swept rugged Patagonia. Me thinks not.

So from B.A. we headed South as quick as we could to the lovely San Martin de Los Andes. A great lakeside resort town. All wood buildings and quirky little shops that make these places a hit in the holiday season.

The ride down there took 24 hours in a luxury double decker bus. We opted for semi-cama, as the flat bed was double the price. The nearly but oh so close to flat bed was good enough. I slept all night. Which compared to plane travel is the opposite.

We were even given food. Three meals. Nothing to write home about, but it kept us going. But this being Argentina we were also given a half bottle of wine with each meal. Well maybe breakfast but I opted for coffee.

We once did a camping trip to El Chalten many years ago. We were stunned to find out we had a dinning tent which they served us a three course meal every night with wine. Lot’s of it. This was quite normal we were told. Beats the shit out of trying to cook a tin of beans over a small gas cooker in the blustery wind.

The list of places in San Martin that had whole carcasses of lamb gently cooking over a live flame in the window was endless. All places were packed so it was literally just pick one. My belly grumbled in the direction of one restaurant. So in we went and shared a plate of barbecue lamb with some potatoes and the normal mixed salad.

After 6 months of no lamb, it was fantastic. God I missed its gaminess, it’s lovely flavour that has had me hooked since I was knee high to a grasshopper. Yum yum.

The only thing missing apart from the mint sauce, was the fat. I think the chef had trimmed most of it off as fat and fire generally creates havoc in a kitchen. That was all that was missing. Wanted to curse him but I was so happy to be eating lamb again that I forgave him.

So looking forward to my next plateful of lamb. Must remember the mint sauce. 

Cheese Laden Pizzas

Argentineans are very proud of their pizzas. As so much as to say, that if you even mentioned that the pizzas in Italy are better than theirs, then you are facing a heavy duty argument. Which in simple terms means that they will scream and shout at you for hours on end. Hands waving around, aggressive overtones, faces getting all red. It’s the Italian blood in them. You kinda get the picture.

The pizzas here are pretty good I have to say. But wether they are as good as in the “Home Country” is another matter.

Since we have been here, we have had quite a few of them to sample. I can only eat so much meat in one day. The one thing that Argentineans love is mozzarella, or muzzarella as they call it here. As it’s not the freshly made balls of buffalo cheese that melts like heaven and looks like puddles of snow after it comes out of the oven. As in Colombia they use a processed version, which comes in large blocks. The Argentine version is better than the soulless, tasteless one from Colombia, but it’s still not fresh as in Italy.

No matter what pizza we have ordered they all come with a heavy covering of this processed cheese. Actually every pizza on every menu has muzzarella as one of the main ingredients. They love it.

On a cool San Martin de Los Andes night, it works a treat. Kinda fills you up in a comforting way. On a hot sultry Buenos Aires night in a hot restaurant with a broken air conditioner. It’s hell. The heavy cheese sits on your stomach like a brick. It’s not a good thing. It’s the only time a pizza has made me feel a little ill. Not a good thing.

My favourite tipple with pizza is beer. I can see that some wine would go well with pizza, but beer or Belgium to be precise is my preferred type. But a couple of litres of Quilmes goes down a treat.

I am a finger eating pizza person. I am a big anti knife and fork pizza eating person. I think it is wrong. For me eating pizza with a knife and fork is a crime against food. It’s not right.

There is a chain of pizza restaurants in England that tries and sells itself as a gourmet pizza place. Pizza for the posh folk. Every time I walk past I cringe as I see people cutting up their pizzas and eating small bits. Sometimes I want to scream.

Thankfully in Argentina everyone is in on my side and eats their cheese laden pizzas with their hands. Phew.