Bringing Flavors Home

After our trip to Argentina, there’s been talk of making homemade dulce de leche. One recipe calls for continuous stirring for three hours. I volunteered my arm muscles.

But there is no way I will be making empanadas. Sure, they’re tasty and cute. I have absolutely nothing against empanadas, especially when they’re right out of the oven.

But, when we got a behind-the-scenes look at Essenza Pasteleria in Mendoza, I realized that there is so much skill involved. The filling is tucked into dough and the sides are pinched to create the half moon shape -- and it all happens in about five seconds.

 

I don't have that kind of dexterity. But I’m really good with a blender. And a cocktail shaker. So, what I’ve recreated at home so far are drinks: a pineapple licuado (smoothie) inspired by the licuados at the Park Hyatt Mendoza pool and a Metropolitan cocktail, which I enjoyed (twice) at Cluny in Buenos Aires.

First, the licuado.  We’d already been out for an early morning of sightseeing and we were happy to stretch out by the pool for a few hours. It was sunny and hot – another perfect Mendocino day -- and licuados seemed just right.

I’ve put my own twist on the drink, adding mint and substituting coconut water for milk. It’s light and very drinkable.

Pineapple-Mint Licuado:

2 cups chopped pineapple

1 to 2 teaspoons chopped fresh mint (amount depends on your taste)

½ cup coconut water

½ cup ice cubes

Blend all ingredients. Serves two, best accompanied by tango lounge music.

And now for the cocktail...

Cluny is a celebratory kind of place. By far, one of our favorite restaurants in Buenos Aires.

And the Metropolitan is a celebratory kind of drink. It’s pink (already a winner in my book), well-balanced, and makes you wonder why anyone would ever order a Cosmo. 

But be careful -- there are a lot of recipes on the web, with some seriously strange proportions (2 ounces of Cointreau? That’s just crazy). And there’s also a cocktail by the same name that is brandy-based.

I’m sticking to Cluny’s version. Here is my best effort to recreate the drink.

The Metropolitan:

2 ounces Absolut Kurant vodka

1 ounce cranberry cocktail juice

1 ounce Cointreau

¼ ounce fresh lime juice

1 teaspoon simple syrup

Shake all ingredients well in a cocktail shaker with ice; strain into a martini glass. Makes one drink, but don’t be surprised if you’re asked to make more….

Butter, Sugar, and Happiness in Argentina

"Life is so brief that we should not glance either too far backwards or forwards... therefore study how to fix our happiness in our glass and in our plate." - Grimod de la Reyniere

Una medialuna at La Biela, Buenos Aires
Our first morning in BA, I ordered a medialuna -- sweeter than a croissant but just as buttery.

Pan de leche relleno con dulche de leche at the Alvear Palace Hotel, Buenos Aires.
Beautiful trays of pastries and confectionery await you at breakfast. Resisting is futile.

Tiny alfajores flavored with honey from Nuss, Clos de Chacras & Mendoza
We bought a dozen. I sneaked one at at time out of the paper bag....

A spoonful of dulce de leche, La Salamandra, Buenos Aires
Some of the best we tasted. Enjoy it at the cafe or buy a jar to take home....or both. 

An Evening at 1884

In Argentina, chef and food TV star Francis Mallmann is a demi-god.

Mendoza is home to one of Mallmann’s restaurants, 1884, and it’s said that some tourists come to the area only to eat at the restaurant.

After all of the hype, I expected 1884 to take itself very, very seriously.

But it is fun and playful and the crowd is lively, wearing everything from polo shirts and jeans to silk cocktail dresses. Our waitress – with a dangerously high side ponytail, black ankle boots, and a red and black striped tie – bops around happily. The lovely hostesses sprint on high heels between the outdoor grill and the dining room, bearing large platters.

Completely out of character, I order the grilled pork ribs with a sweet potato cake and cherry tomatoes seasoned with marjoram. It’s right out of the “shock and awe” playbook: It’s supposed to be impressive only because it’s a huge piece of meat.  The winner for me is absolutely my appetizer: a salad of charred carrots, arugula, goat cheese, and garlic chips. Around the table, we agree that the appetizers are much more creative than the entrees. Big servings of meat can only get you so far and we’ve already seen plenty of that in Buenos Aires.

We're sitting near an open door and, between courses, we slip out to the patio. The garden is lit by candlelight and by the grill. 

Couples mingle with wine glasses before sitting down to dinner and leggy brunettes in gladiator sandals vamp for the camera. On the other end of the courtyard, the cooks hustle to fill orders and to flip steaks, as clouds of smoke rise from the stovetop.  

  

Mallmann may have disappointed with the meat, but he succeeds in creating a great show. 

The Romance of the Vines

Mendoza is a totally different creature. At the airport, we are distracted by posters warning against the threat of dengue fever and others posting the conversion rate for Chilean pesos. We are much closer to Santiago, Chile than we are to Buenos Aires.

The sun is hot, there are mountains in the distance, and there is white wine shampoo in the hotel bathroom. Every terrace with a little shade feels like a vacation.

We drive several hours into the Valle de Uco to visit the vineyards Salentein and O. Fournier. On the way, I fall asleep and only occasionally open my eyes, so my impressions of the drive are simple: rows of sun-baked vines on dusty earth, blue shadows of mountains far off, and jazz music.

Another day, we drive about forty-five minutes to the Alta Vista vineyard. Gwen, a tiny redhead from New Jersey, shows us the cellars and pours us four wines to taste: the Premium Torrontes 2010, the Atemporal Blend 2007, the Terroir Selection Malbec 2007, and the Single Vineyard Temis Malbec 2007. Gwen tells us that the Torrontes is known as the liar: "Sweet in your nose, dry in your mouth." I taste pear.

The single vinyard wines are elegant and we buy the Temis and the Serenade, along with several bars of Salgado chocolate. My pick is the Esmeraldas, a dark chocolate from Ecuador with 70% cacao. We walk under the portico and down the lavender-lined path, stopping to steal a few grapes.

Back in the car, I open the chocolate, breaking off small pieces. For Alta Vista and for Salgado, it's all about terroir. The philosophy of terroir holds that everything unique about one place - climate, soil, topography - is reflected in the product.

And I have to agree: Place makes a difference. I taste the tannins of the Temis and creamy, dark chocolate.