Parrilla

I don't know how "escondida" this is...and it tips the scale a bit on price under our criteria (depending on what you order, of course, but the cheapest bottle of wine is $40ARG) but it's a good one. My first time there was really a good meal!

You can find it in San Telmo a door or two from the corner of Bolívar and Estados Unidos. There were few hispanoparlantes either upstairs or on the main floor when we visited on Wednesday so that and the fact that the joint encourages reservations obviously puts it into the "touristy" catagory.

Now, it's always been popular with well-known athletes but I always thought it was rather hidden. In fact, I remember back around the year 2000 or so it became a favorite hideaway for politicos that dared not show their faces in their favorite parrillas for fear of being aflicted by the less comfortable. I guess it's caught on.

I swear to you, going by price, I didn't think that I had ordered a much bigger steak than any of my 6 dining companions (all helping celebrate Mamá's 84th birthday) but that's not the way it worked out. It just so happened that I couldn't decide between lomo and bife de chorizo and I noticed a T-Bone on the carta (not a common cut on yer regalur Porteño menu.) Since my Aunt Susie and Uncle Dick were fresh in from the EEUU, I also thought that it would help them compare the local carne with what we have back in the old country.


¡'ta que lo parió! What a mammoth! It was scary. First the size scared me and then the fact that monsters like that (back in the states) are often unimpressive in matters of taste. No problems with this bad boy, tho. Both sides of the bone were screamin' with the real beef flavor that we transplants have come to demand as much or more than do the locals and it was as tender as a cut of this kind can be coming from an animal that has to walk around looking for it's next mouthful of tender pasto.


Not only that...the mollejas were maybe the best I ever ate, the chorizo top-notch, the morcilla bon-bon sized and scrumptious, the grilled provolone drew raves from every Argentine and thrilled the rest of the table, and the chimichurry was strangly spicy and the closest to what I have always imagined that peculiar steak sauce oughta be.

Varios salads and arugula all around...

Two bravehearts gave the high sign to dessert with their coffee...and I embarrased myself by not being able to stop stealing spoonfuls of sambayon from my auntie (though she was happy for the assist.)

One bottle of medium priced malbec satisfied the few drinkers at the table and several bottles of water did the trick for the rest.

You tell me: $445ARG was the bill for seven.