April in photos

And so another month comes to an end!  April was particularly lovely in Argentina with cooler temperatures finally taking the place of hot, sticky days.  Here are some pictures from around the city, particularly the Recoleta neighborhood, which is long overdue for a blog post of its own.

An old Fiat on the cobblestone streets of Palermo Hollywood retains its charm despite a recent downpour

Palacio del Congreso, like its American counterpart, houses the federal government's legislative branch.

Unlike the San Telmo Market,  la Feria Artisinal in Recoleta is more tranquil with family picnics and lawn-loungers relaxing nearby

Angels and demons are omnipresent in the massive Recoleta Cemetery

Thanks to parents and care packages, our expat Easter was complete with jelly beans and egg-painting

The famous Cafe Tortoni offers history and ambiance but at the expense of quality food

The sky is aglow on Avenida General Las Heras at dusk

Magnificent Mendoza Pt. 2: The Great Outdoors calls; I lose my lunch

Following the marathon tasting, we decided to give ourselves (and our livers) a break on Saturday and journeyed to the wilder parts of Mendoza.  We arranged a full day worth of outdoor activities with a company called Argentina Rafting: Whitewater rafting in the morning followed by mountain trekking and cliff-rappeling in the afternoon.

In less than an hour, the city and vineyards of Mendoza had receded behind us and a landscape of rough mountains and a cerulean-blue river took their place.  Unlike the snow-capped Andes farther south in Bariloche, the range around Mendoza is, for the most part, comprised of older mountains that are smaller and dustier.  One of the exceptions to this generalization is Aconcaugua, the tallest mountain in the Americas (and the highest peak outside of the Himalayas), which is just a few hours north of Mendoza.

Relaxing before braving the icy waters of the Mendoza River

Our guide/rafting leader was charming, albeit unintelligible.  I personally think we would have had better luck understanding him if he had spoken in Spanish rather than a thickly accented English.  "Okay, it is possible that you grab the raft like this if you fall over.  But guys, it is possible you put your legs first if you fall over.  And it is possible that you breathe under the raft if it flips."  After a 20-minute pep talk, we had gleaned a litany of possible actions but hadn't the slightest idea which were recommended and which were not.

Despite the Caribbean-like color of the Mendoza River, the temperature was less than tropical; our guide estimated between 8 and 10 degrees Celsius (45 and 50 Fahrenheit).  Somehow Jackie and I ended up at the front of the raft with two older Canadian couples seated behind us.  Jackie is from New York City and went to school in Buffalo, so I think it's safe to assume that I was the worst person to put in the splash zone.

We threaded through the mountains in the translucent water for about an hour, traveling 10 kilometers in all.  The rapids, with names like, "Rock 'n' Roll," had us reeling and rowing, but there was little fear that we might actually capsize.  Drenched at least a dozen times with the water trickling inside my wetsuit, I was proud of myself for staying strong through the end, even though my feet and fingers were starting to go numb.

Jackie rappelling down the cliff

A hot, buffet meal with an Andes-brand cerveza was the perfect antidote for my chilled bones, although it wasn't the wisest move in hindsight.  After lunch we began hiking in the mountains, and the trek was not at all what I expected.  The Appalachian trails of the Southeast with their subtle inclines and wide paths were nothing like these rocky, shrub-filled trails that looked fit for only goats to climb.  My lunch and beer rollicked in my satiated stomach until I had to excuse myself a few times to clear the contents.  Luckily I felt better after the fact and didn't miss out on rappelling down a cliff adjacent to a waterfall.  Before this, my only experience rappelling had been on a rock wall during a 7th-grade field trip.  Of course it was a bit disconcerting at first, but once I found a steady pace it was fun.  Rappelling is an activity that it definitely helps to have long legs.  Perhaps runway models and basketball players are fans of it?

After everyone in our group descended the cliff, we made our way back down the trail.  The sun was starting to dip between the mountains, creating some spectacular views that would inspire the likes of Ansel Adams.  All in all, a wonderful conclusion to an intrepid day.

A view that was worth the trek

Magnificent Mendoza Pt. 1: El vino anima...

Jackie and I with our new friend Stephan, after stop #2.

On the western edge of Argentina is an affluent province known as Mendoza.  Located at the base of the Andes and a short seven-hour bus ride from Santiago, it has a rugged feel that is reminiscent of the American Southwest.  In recent decades, the area has boomed as a wine hotspot: dry air, consistent weather and varying altitudes make Mendoza ideal for the tender grapes.  The relatively cheap cost of land (especially if you're converting from dollars, euros or pounds) make it tempting real estate for would-be winemakers.

We had multiple toasts

My friend Jacqueline and I— both self-professed winos— were eager to visit wine country and sample Argentina's best, including the famous Malbecs and Bornardos.  Our first night in the city of Mendoza (capital of the region of the same name), we visited the swanky Vines of Mendoza wine bar to begin our marathon tasting (and no, we did not spit, we swallowed).  Our sommelier, Julian, proceeded to educate us on wine analysis: how to tell if it's full-bodied or medium-bodied; how to swirl it to check the "legs;" and how to smell it before sipping.  It might sound like we were well on our way to becoming snobs, but our ongoing competition to guess the notes (imagine two girls sticking their noses in the wineglass and then shouting out flavors like tobacco and cheese) kept us humble.  My nose still has much to learn...

Delicious and fresh from the vine

The second day we met some friends who are students in Buenos Aires for a biking tour in Maipú, a vineyard-filled town just 45 minutes from Mendoza.  As we made our way around tasting rooms and outdoor terraces— even plucking grapes straight from the vine at one point— the words of my great-grandfather Sancho echoed in my mind: "El vino anima, pero no ayuda."  Wine livens you up, but it doesn't help.  Perhaps he wrote that after riding a bike while slightly inebriated.

The day was perfect: sunny skies, mild temperatures, excellent wine and wonderful company.  And despite the large amount of wine consumption, none of us fell off our bikes or got hit by a car.  Pedaling back to the rental shop that evening, we couldn't help but break out into Queen's "Bicycle."

One hundred barrels of wine...

Should anyone wonder about our exuberance, they need only look at our purple-stained teeth to know how we'd spent the day.

La Cabrera: A carnivore's dream

After a particularly vexing day (read: last-minute class cancellations, lost in aeroparque, mini-concussion from a taxi door), I needed a good meal.  My friend Tori suggested La Cabrera, which she and our other expat friends have raved about since January.  I was still a La Cabrera virgin.

Scrumptious steak plus many sides

Located in the trendy sub-neighborhood of Palermo Soho, you'll mainly encounter other tourists and expats if you go early like Tori and I did (we arrived right when they opened at 8:30), but this restaurant is also a favorite with the locals, who start queuing outside around 10 p.m.  At first I worried that the food would not live up to the hype: Tourist-riddled establishments like the famous Cafe Tortoni often charge an arm and a leg for the ambiance, not the meal, which is second-rate at best.  Not so with La Cabrera.

Tori had been several times before— one friendly waiter even came over to say hello— so she was able to recommend dishes, which was a blessing for me considering that the menu listed about four dozen beef options alone.  Both of us ordered our tenderloins a punto, or medium rare, with just the right amount of pink juiciness.  Our steaks arrived on a long serving board, laden with sides, including pinto beans with sauce, diced and seasoned vegetables, quail egg-potato salad and other scrumptious items I couldn't identify.  In addition to these, a second plate of warm sides included mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, caramelized pearl onions, tomato-marinated eggplant and even applesauce.  The variety of side dishes means that just about every bite you take of your oh-so-tender steak has a different flavor and texture.

Even more sides to sample

Despite the red-meat overload, we both had room for our own chocolate molten lava cake, which is so moist that fold in upon itself at the slightest touch.  Tori and I had split a bottle of Malbec wine, but we still happily accepted complimentary champagne to finish the meal.

Of course La Cabrera is expensive if you're living and working with the Argentine peso.  However, when you convert the amount to USD, my meal, which included half a bottle of wine and dessert, was between $35 and $40.

Some people pose with monuments; I pose with food (and Tori)

Now, who's coming with me on my next visit to La Cabrera?

Jesus rises or in this case, inflates

Divine intervention or marketing campaign gone wrong?

On Easter I went to mass at the Metropolitan Cathedral in Plaza de Mayo with some friends.  Needless to say, I was surprised to find a blow-up Jesus waiting at the entrance.

He nods, shrugs and even dances a little

Perhaps the church should look into hiring a new PR director...

Felices Pascuas, now eat your chocolate eggs

Felices Pascuas, or Happy Easter!

My attempt to recreate Eva Diaz Torres' art

In Buenos Aires, giant chocolate eggs, rather than chocolate bunnies, fill the grocery stores, bakeries and confiterias (candy shops) all around the city.  These eggs, which are about 10 times the size of your typical creme-filled Cadbury, are wrapped in layers of colorful cellophane, making them sparkle like jewels. 

Speaking of eggs, I recently saw an interesting sculpture piece that featured two eggs: one whole, the other broken.  The artist, Eva Diaz Torres, whose work was featured at her grandfather's museum (Museo Torres Garcia in Montevideo), was also a bit of a philosopher.  Referring to her creation, she said:

"El huevo, que es el símbolo de la vida, de lo perfecto, de la unidad absoluta, se tiene que romper para que esa misma vida pueda existir. El movimiento y el cambio son indispensables."

Roughly translated, she said that the egg, which is the symbol of life and perfection, has to be broken so that that same life can exist.  Movement and change are essential.

Good advice in general and great advice for chocolate Easter eggs!  Sure, it's pretty and perfect all wrapped up in shiny paper.  But if you just stare at it, not wanting to sully the perfection, it will spoil.

Moral of the story: Eat your Easter candy!