My hands are clasped around a fired clay bowl, still warm, though I’ve finished the soft humita (corn stew) and tender ternera estofada (braised veal) it contained. The air is heavy with the rich scent of heat, and I can identify each spice—cinnamon, cumin, sweet paprika, pepper, salt, chili flakes, thyme—because I measured them into what we’re eating. I inhale...
Profile and interview with Argentine chef Mica Najmanovich, owner and head chef of ANAFE.
Some of you are passionate about Renaissance art or farmers’ markets or NCAA basketball. Maybe running does it for you, or breadmaking, or collecting keychains. Me? I unabashedly love carrot cake. I can make my own, and it’s pretty good, even though my oven here has only three settings (high, medium, and low) and I failed to bring back a...
Small Plates, Big Flavors at New Núñez EateryOur group walked into LUPA and gathered around a long white table underneath a line of small, cylindric spotlights. We slid into a green velvet booth and leaned forward in sleek metal chairs, opened our wine and clinked our glasses, and watched as the first dishes came out, carried carefully and lit from...
From Backpack to Buenos Aires: New Home, Language, Life It's happened a few times that Diego and I have been in some public space in Buenos Aires—the wine aisle in the grocery store, the Bosques of Palermo, walking down Santa Fe—when, upon hearing someone speaking English, I immediately rubberneck in their direction, my ears straining to catch those whispers of...
I spent a few maddening, beautiful, indulgent days in Mendoza, and I’m going to tell you about them, but first, an abstract: Our characters in this edition include possibly the most irritating American the South American continent has ever seen, the dearly beloved Anne (first featured in our Puerto Natales comedy of errors), a trio of brothers committed to creating...
What actually counts as a passion in life? How much of it do you need to live a fulfilled existence? Can it be cobbled together in small bits, like a quilt made of scraps of fabric but warmth-providing in totality, or does it need to be more centralized, a blaze that burns through the contours of your life, defining them...
After four days and 100km of hiking in El Chaltén, I put my body through a different type of endurance quest: a 24-hour-bus ride to Bariloche, Argentina. My ride followed the same pattern of most hero’s journeys: call to adventure (to swim in the beautiful seven lakes of Bariloche, to hike its hills, to eat its world-famous chocolate), crossing a...
Writing from the bus to El Calafate in Argentina. I am a complete idiot (we’ll get there) and left Puerto Natales a few days later than I’d planned, but my mistakes meant that I ended up leaving Chile exactly one month after I arrived, giving me a perfectly-timeboxed life experience to reflect on. Already Argentina looks different, even though we’re...