|Michelle Woo |
There's one major tragedy in traveling to Argentina. You'll probably never be able to fully enjoy American steak again.
I just returned from my two-week honeymoon and despite the country's stunning scenery, insane nightlife and raging political culture, when anyone asks me about the trip, all I can seem to say is, "Meeeeat. Oh, the meat!" And then drool a little.
We heard a bit about the beef in Argentina, how it's their most prized export, how the cows there eat grass and not grain so the meat supposedly contains less saturated fat and is overall healthier--and tastier--than the slabs served in the States. While in Buenos Aires, I made it my mission to try every parrilla, or steakhouse, on a recommended list from Home Hotel
, the wonderful, sort-of hipster boutique hotel where we stayed. I ate more steak in those five days than I had eaten all year. It was both sickening and glorious.
Photos, thoughts and tips after the jump.
, noisy and dripping with soccer paraphernalia, is a classic parrilla in touristy San Telmo. It's known to serve some of the best beef in BA.
We ordered the asado especial--the ribs.
The server cuts the bad boy for us with a spoon. A spoon! We examined the spoon to see if it was really a crazy secret contraption like a knife-edged-spoon, but no, it was just a regular spoon.
I've always enjoyed a good steak, but usually smother mine in Lawry's Seasoned Salt or dip the cut-up pieces in whatever sauce happens to be on my plate. But in Argentina, the beef, all by its lonesome on a platter, packs in so much flavor.
With each bite, there was dazed sigh and an, "Oh my God." La Brigada was one of my favorite parrillas.