Thursday, March 24, 2011

They're Back


You know those epic moments when for example a Backstreet Boys song comes on the overhead when you're wandering the aisles of a supermarket, and every word seems to be about your life right now, and you're filled with a strange euphoria and sudden deep affection for '90's American pop music, and you can't help but look at the checker and say "Me encanta esto cancion!" in the hopes of a confirming reply that won't affirm that you've completely fallen off your rocker?

Well this was definitely the first time this has ever happened to me, and the checker's confused laugh didn't sufficiently refute my conviction that the aspartame in all those diet cokes or the chemicals in all those Bp plastic containers I've put into the microwaves had accumulated and finally caught up to my brain functions. I mean, I never even like Backstreet when they were big!

I took a deep breath, stepped out onto the sidewalk away from any speakers and decided that there's no reason to fight the feeling (seriously it was euphoric). It must just one of the symptoms of living in another faraway and unfamiliar culture, that small nostalgic sentiments that you never even knew you had in you bubble up when you least expect it.

But Backstreet...really?

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Tan Dulce

Alfajores

Facturas

A sliver of the variety

Another happy owner, maybe not Italian though...

Happy Birthday! To happiness and health.....Salud!

"Bueno dia, Emma! Tenemos un desayuna especial hoy!"

Breakfast, really? These beautiful facturas are from a place across the street from my apartment. Every block in Buenos Aires seems to have a kiosco (minimart), a leaking air conditioner and a token artisanel bakery. These corner shops are typified by grand display windows showcasing an outrageous variety of sweet morsels, treats, pastries, cakes, and pies. Each has a deli ticket machine and once they call your number you point to what you want like a spoiled brat in a toy shop. You then bring your receipt up to a cash register that is usually manned by a beaming italian looking owner.

I can't emphasize the variety enough. If you're one of those people whose always feels bogged down by the mundane choice between a bagel or crossaint every time you go to a cafe, and are always dousing you pastries with extra jellies and condiments, then you should probably come to Argentina in your lifetime. But if you're one of those people who tells the waiter multiple times that you need "just a minute" and makes the whole table wait for you to have an epiphany about whether fried eggs or an omelette is the best choice for you right now and get spend hours staring off in supermarkets, then don't step in one of these places. And also, if you usually choose the bagel, don't expect ANYTHING salty here. Well, maybe a quiche, but everything else is made from some combination of flour, sugar, butter and sometimes milk, chocolate and jelly.

For me everything I've tasted from the Porteno sweet factories has been over the top. Case in point, the birthday cake above: 20 layers of crepes glued by a thick dulce de leche, and topped off with creme chantilly (aka whipped cream). I'm accustomed to a bowl of simple oatmeal for breakfast, I guess the most neutral thing there is (on the salty-sweet spectrum) and black coffee. If I go out for breakfast, I flip to the eggs or hashbrown page of the menu. So regularly waking up to a plate of alfajores or frosted cake with sprinkles has been quite odd.

All the things I've tasted from these bakeries have been ridiculously tasty, but ridiculously overwhelming first thing in the morning.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Mendoza: touring, tasting and trekking in the wine country

We recline deeply into the plush seats of our three mini tour buses as if we've just plopped down in lazy boys at a superbowl party. As we embark on a day excursion and wine tasting tour in Mendoza, Argentina, a region 12 hours Northwest of BsAs, I hear a faint voice over the intercom say: "Sit back, relax and enjoy the Andes in 3D! Over priced snacks will be available at your beckoning call throughout our voyage. Oh and please don't forget to visit our gift shop just beyond the exit doors on you way out!" Or maybe that was just my imagination...

First stop, Bodega numero uno. All 75 of us UC students are herded though a "state of the art" winery as efficiently as cows are prodded through an industrial dairy. Phase 1, 2 and 3 pass rather rapidly and thoughtlessly, with basic and unsurprising explanations of facilities, history, and a silent question and answer period. Rather abrubtly, we find ourselves in the tasting room (or milking area?). While most of us have much more experience chugging than sipping, we play the role of the wine connoisseurs for a couple seconds before pouring back a vino tinto and promptly washing it down with the vino blanco. Next the group proceeds to the obligatory facebook photoshoot phase of tour that is unofficially scheduled in all enviable events involving the 19-21yr age range, and is especially important for those overseas. I mean hello! how will my friends see how great of a time I'm having without a weekly facebook album update. "Don't forget to tag me!" each smile implies. After a dizzying 20 minutes of lecture, tour, tasting, posing, we are dumped off in the buying area where most students buy a bottle or two of wine for them or the more wholesome students, for mom. The guides crack the whip and we beeline for the buses, giftbags wagging in the hands of all.

Stops 2,3, and 4 pass with predictable success as try to sample all the sensory pleasures of the Mendoza region in a very short amount of time, much like siblings in Costco with a looming meeting time to meet mom (yes, this feeling is familiar).

We hopped off at a olive oil factory that also happened to have a full line scented face and body lotions. I would love to know how an olive oil factory works, but my both my periferal and frontal vision were unfortunately obstructed by a thick curtain of giggles and flipping ponytails (nothing against the girls in my program, the sheer number of us was the issue). The olive oil tasting left some to be desired considering many of us were pretty hungry, but luckily the tour ended in .... a gift shop! where we could purchase some calories to fill our empty bellies (choices included olive oil, vinegar, olive paste, or lotion ... better than nothing? I wasnt sure)

Then we went on to an organic and biodynamic winery and the tour passed curiously similarly to the others. I once again, would have liked to actually know about organic wines in Argentina, methods and certification, but once again, I was shooed to the cash register and then the reclining seat in the bus with an aggressively smile.

Finally, we parked in front of an artesanal chocolate, liqueur and jam factory, where we tasted an intense array of intense flavors from coffee dulce de leche to dulce de leche liqeur to absinthe. Yes, absinthe. For the last time, we packed into the three buses and were shipped back to the hostel and dropped off in a relatively happy, exhausted and slightly drunken state. Hell of a day.

And I mean hell as in big day, but also a little bit of the negative connotation of the word as well. Growing up in a family where a single hike or plunge into water (which included swimming pools unheated and heated, lakes, rivers of all colors... and textures, swamps, and once or twice a water fall) were the most substantial chunks of our vacation days, and where souveniers were bought with hard saved piggy bank change in places such as Costco (Yes, Maui has a very nice Costco, with a whole 9 x 12 shelf for Hawaii souvenirs made in China), you'd think this type of luxury, drive me up to the fun and excitement and quickly escort me to the next big event would be what me and my two siblings have been dreaming of since we first noticed that some kids in the adjacent hotel get on big buses everyday to go to places that we don't know, won't know, but do know that they are surely better than wherever we're headed. "Duuuuude..I wonder how much it costs" said in my brother's voice, excited but seething with jealousy.

In my younger years, the gift shops were where us kids went to get out of our parents' hair, get our parents out of our hair, or just to go touch things we couldn't have; not to actually buy things. But on our tour of Mendoza gift shops, wine emporiums and purchasing in general was the main event. We basically paid big bucks to have a tour that takes us to places where we test out products to see if we want to shell out more bucks. Travelling for the consumerist generation!

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not Amish or Socialist, I go shopping just to go shopping, I buy things I don't need, but this whole consumer tourism thing just felt wierd, like it crossed the line into the realm of Black Friday tramplings and $10,000 purses and shopping malls bigger than citis, you know the wierd hyper consumerist stuff that makes you question you ponder the characteristics of the modern era alliegance to capitalism as a whole?

So anyways, it was pretty odd to be trying to save money (I thought all college students were...), and being chauferred from one buying oriented destination to the next. And, somehwat surprisingly, I was pretty alone in my abstinence of pointless and expensive purchases, as few students seemed to thin twice about at least getting "sooooommmething" at each place. I guess abroad programs attract a pretty well off demographic.

The next day, we did a tour in the same three buses. Now this tour was not for the consumerist generation, but for the video game generation (yes, I'm referring to the same generation...). We were carted from one photo-op or point of interest to the next, finishing with a 30 minute "hike". We saw absolutely breathtaking views and neat historical landmarks, but didnt get to know or understand any of them. As soon as I started to take a deep breath and soak in the unfathomable geology or wonder about the plant life, we would be herded back to the vans like the day before.

I say this type of tour is catered to the video game generation because I think it assumes we all have ADD and are used to over-stimulation which, well, most of us probably are. We are taken to a bunch of big attraction in one day, kind of like Andes in IMAX.

I'll quit ranting about this trip, because in reality, Mendoza was beautiful but I think big groups of 20-year olds are a bit over whelming and schedules that don't include time to sit down and take a deep breath and enjoy where you are just arent for me.

The third day in Mendoza, I chose to take a long hike followed by snacks, coffee and mate (finishing on a 'high' note with all that intoxicating caffiene) with two Argentine girls. It was so much calmer, no sensory overload, and us three really got to know eachother. I also got to explore the town itself, where most notably they have a style of architecture that's a neat mix of contemproary and simple with lots of dark woods. Kind of like Frank Loyd Wright, but for mod.

Below are some pics of the trip!