A Life Worth Eating

Tonight I visited Yuki, a sushi restaurant reputed for being the most “authentic” in Buenos Aires. A group of friends and I tried to go last Friday night without a reservation and were told they were completely full — this was the first time a reservation appears to have been actually necessary. This time, however, I was more prepared. I made a reservation and went by myself. The restaurant is very understated: nothing sleek or fancy, just clean, tidy, and functional. After being buzzed in, I was met by the host who had remembered me from the week before. I sat at the sushi bar, where I was hoping to speak with the chef to learn more about the sushi scene in BA. As I sat down at the bar, I initiated a conversation with him in Japanese, something I find usually either gets me free stuff or more honest recommendations. The chef was completely unphased by this, which I think speaks somewhat of the restaurant’s authenticity: no gimmicks here. This attitude is also confirmed by the menu which has no california rolls, no flying dragon handrolls, no Buenos Aires happy maki, just traditional Japanese cuisine. I was really in the mood for some sashimi, so I decided to leave it up to chef Kazuo, and asked for sashimi omakase. He smiled, and got to work.

The first course was a small plate of three fish: diced salmon with mayonaise, tamago (sweet egg), and sliced ika (squid) with scallions. The diced salmon was the most notable of the three, with a very fatty texture. The tamago was a bit dense but had a nice sweet flavor, even though there was some mild greying, which suggests that the egg was overcooked. The ika had been flown in from Spain, which was apparent from the lack of firmness — it was not at the peak of freshness.

While I was working on the appetizers, Kazuo-san got to work on my sashimi. I identified some of the fish he was cutting: saba (mackerel), tako (octopus), hamachi (yellowtail), and sake (salmon); but, there were two fish I’d never seen before. I asked him what they were, and he explained that they were local fish: pejerrey (silverside) and lenguado (dover sole). He also noted that all the fish he was serving tonight came from either Argentina or Chile, with the exception of the ika which came from Spain. Just as I finished my last bite of tamago, a waiter came from around the corner to remove my plate and to place the wooden board of sashimi from the sushi counter to in front of me. This was one of those places where the interaction between the sushi chef and people at the sushi bar still has to pass through a waiter, though I was able to order through the chef.

The platter was very colorful and served with powdered wasabi and white radish — no ginger. Going clockwise from the octopus in the front: tako, saba, sake, pejerry with lenguado in the middle. The highlight of the selection was the pejerrey which I’d never tried before: a very lean white fish with a texture similar to kurodai (snapper) only a bit more firm with a very clean taste. The sake was also spectacular which, Kazuosan explained, is what makes up 90% of his orders from Argentine customers. I was let down by the tako which was slightly runny and lacked the fresh crisp that I love when it’s very fresh. I snapped a picture of a platter he was preparing for the Argentine couple seated at the table across the room — note the abundance of salmon and shrimp, much tamer sushi for the Argentine palate. I glanced in the refrigerator in front of me and it seems as though he cut me a slice of all the fish that was available that night, except for one. As I got a close look, I realized it was fuke (baby shark)! I was very tempted to try some; but he warned me that it was for tourists and since the muscles of the fish are quite firm for agressive swimming, the fish lacks flavor. But, I got him to hold it up for a picture.

After my selection of sashimi, I was still hungry, so I requested one of my favorite dishes that I pretty much always order at any sushi bar: maguro yamakake which consists of lean tuna sashimi, yamaimo (japanese mountain potato) grated, strips of nori, and a raw quail egg. Kazuosan seemed disappointed that he did not have maguro due to its recent scarcity; but, he would be happy to make it with pejerrey since it was a firm fish that would not fall apart in the liquified potato, and since I liked it so much. He went into the back to bring forward yamaimo for peeling, soaked it in water for 5 minutes, and began grating. Delicious and fresh it was, even without the maguro. Shortly after, I ordered nato temake (fermented soybean hand roll) which I’d been craving — it did not disappoint. Realizing the time-sensitivity of the nori, instead of waiting for the waiter to come from around the corner to hand it to me, he rolled it up and placed it right into my hands. Crunch. Dessert consisted of sliced apple, the perfect clean and refreshing end to an authentic sushi dinner.

I enjoyed this meal very much, partly because I hadn’t had a variety of colorful raw fish, crispy hand rolls, quail egg, or yamaimo for the two months I’ve been down here. This is undoubtedly the most authentic sushi experience I’ve had here. However, at times, I felt like Kazuosan was limited by the availability of fresh ingredients: no ikura, uni, maguro, hotate, and many other fish that would be abundant in nearly all sushi restaurants in both New York and Japan.

There aren’t many restaurants in Buenos Aires that are experimenting with molecular techniques. One of which, El Bistró, is located in the Faena hotel and universe — a shiny new hotel with which I have a love-hate relationship. One the one hand, the hotel is incredibly tacky and somewhat obnoxious. This is apparent even before entering the hotel as the entire facade is flooded with deep red lights. Each restaurant and bar within the hotel’s main floor has a theme ranging from a dimly lit cocktail “library” with oversized gaucho leather couches, to an all white restaurant whose walls are lined with unicorns having bright red eyes. We ate in the later, a place that made me think if Snow White were to live in Transylvania, she would probably decorate her house something like this. But, while the decor is so blatently and intentionally tacky, it’s comical. And the staff seems to realize this, by not taking themselves so seriously. Despite the air of being one of the trendiest hotels in the city, I found everyone I dealt with surprisingly friendly and helpful. The food was pretty good, too.

The restaurant is all white, with accents of red: the bouquet of roses on each table, the rug that covers most of the tile floor, and the eyes of the white unicorns that line each side of the restaurant. The only other color in the room comes from the table of cognacs and dessert wines in the middle of the room, and from the slicked back hair of the 30-something yuppies eating here, too. We arrived for a 9:30pm reservation and were promptly sat. Although we had pre-requested the chef’s tasting, we were shown the menu just to have a look.

We wanted some wine to go along with our 7-course tasting. But unlike La Bourgogne, which included wine pairings in its menú degustación, we had to arrange for a separate pairing with each course. It took a little time to explain that we didn’t want to purchase seven separate bottles, but the sommelier said she could arrange by-the-glass pairings. Our ordering was finalized, our menus collected, and some welcome pastries were delivered to the table to kick things off. What a nice way to say hello, if you ask me.

We were presented with three different welcome snacks, the highlight of which was a lukewarm wasabi cream wrapped in nori, crispy rice cracker, and topped with what seemed like crispy bits of caramelized onion. I was surprised at the slight hint of spice the wasabi cream had — what a bold thing to do in a country that hates spice of any kind! The bread was quick to follow, with a selection of four types: baked flat sheets, white, wheat, and blue cheese. The blue cheese was very tasty — just salty enough that I didn’t have to re-salt after applying butter. Our first wine was a Pulenta Estate Sauvignon Blanc 2007, which very floral — I literally felt like I stuck my head in a rose garden. I almost wanted to smell it with the next course instead of drinking it.

The first amuse came, a “deconstructed tortilla,” or more officially, deconstrucción de la tortilla de papas española (papa, aceite de oliva, cebollas caramelizadas y yema de huevo), which was essentially caramelized onions topped with a “tortilla foam,” a dense slightly potato-flavored off-white froth. The texture of the foam was very dense, which made it more like a light soup. While I didn’t taste the potato in the tortilla foam, the onions were very flavorful and texturally interesting when combined with the foam. The temperature was noticably cooler than I would have liked, but overall this was a nice start.

The second amuse was next to come: an oyster served in a soup spoon, topped with a lettuce foam and a lime purée (ostra con puré de limón y aire de lechuga). The lemon purée had a little bit of a sweet bitterness to it, which makes me think it was key lime. The strength of the lemon was a little too strong which made it hard to taste the delicate flavor of the oyster. The temperature was also a little colder than lukewarm, which makes me think it had been sitting around for a bit. I hope this is the last of the cooler than desired dishes.

Our first official dish came, titled “relleno criollo,” lomo curado a la sal, papa, olivas esféricas, huevo y cebolla de verdeo (a deconstructed empanada of cured loin, egg yolk, potato, and chili sauce). Yes, that’s right, chili sauce. And, we had some molecular gastronomy in the form of spherical olives. This chef was taking risks! While this was the third consecutive course that was served just a bit too cool, this authentically tasted like an empanada without the encasing. Despite its authenticity, the loin was a little too salty — with a regular empanada, salt helps to flavor dough; but without the bread component to absorbe the salty flavor of the cured loin, it’s a little too much. The saltiness of the loin; however, went nicely with the Tapiz Chardonay Reserva 2005, a fruity white wine with notes of grapefruit.

Next up was my second favorite course of the evening: spider crab wrapped in avocado with sour whipped cream (canelón de palta y centolla con espuma de yogur natural). The mild flavor of the avocado served more as a textural vehicle to contrast against the stringy slices of king crab. The sour whipped cream was mild and light enough not to interfere with the avocado and crab, both in terms of flavor and texture. And since this was a dish served cold, it seems like the temperature troubles that affected the previous courses would be circumvented.

These last two courses marked the end of the appetizers, and we were ready to move on to mains. Our first main were slices silverside served on an olive brioche with pistachios and tomatoes (Ppjerrey marinado con verduras al carbón sobre biscuit de olivas, ensalada de rúcula y vinagreta de pistachos y tomates). This dish seemed to lack focus, both texturally and in terms of flavor. The olive flavor of the brioche was way too strong for this dish, I could not taste the fish. I also disliked the apparently random scattering of pistashios — regarding flavor, what purpose did they serve in this dish? If they were a textural addition, they needed to be broken down a little more … whole raw pistashios are too hard and crude to be paired with the softness of silverside — this contrast was too much. This was the low point of the dinner and, fortunately, things picked up from here. Our sommelier chose to pair this with a Palo Alto Pino Noir 2006, an incredibly light red that did not compete with the fish, at all.

Following the silverside came another fish course, trillas con verduras, queso de cabra ahumado y romesco (red mullet stuffed with zuchini and onion with a peanut paste). This fish was served hot, which was very much appreciated. The skin was left on both sides of the fish, which was slightly crisped to make the texture more interesting. The skin also added tremendous flavor to the dish. The Thai-inspired peanut sauce was very rich and even a little spicy, just enough to enhance but not distract, from the natural flavor of the mullet. This was the highlight course of the night. Very, very good.

We finished our two fish courses and now it was time for meat. We started with “lamb capelleti,” two giant capelleti stuffed with braised lamb in a leek consumée with mint foam, dijon mustard, and pickled carrot (capelletis rellenos con estofado de cordero en consomé de puerros, aire de menta, mostaza de dijón y encurtido de zanahoria) . The capelleti was cooked very nicely, a little firm but not dry or chewy; unfortunately, this dish was again, too cold. But the flavor of the meat and capelleti was very tasty. The sauce was fairly mild and bland, with the exception of the pickled carrot land mines scattered around.

For our last main course, we had roasted duck served on hijiki seaweed with spinach, white raddish, and black sesame (pechuga de pato asada, nabo crujiente y ensalada tibia de algas y pencas). Looking at this dish, the duck seemed like an interesting twist and I wasn’t sure if it would work. I would have imagined some kind of white fish. But it worked. This japanese-inspired creation was delicious, and was surprisingly original. The sesame-duck combination was fantastic. The duck was paired with an Azul Reserva 2003, a Cabernet-Malbec-Merlot Mix from Mendoza. While this was by far the most impressive wine of the evening, the pairing was a little off — it was way too heavy for the duck. As such, I ate the duck first, then enjoyed the wine. The hints of blackberry and slight oak smell were very pleasant. Ironically, this wine had a 14% alcohol content … what is it with these Argentine wines?

Just before dessert, we were served a “red passion” palate cleanser – nube de frambuesa, sorbete de Campari y arándanos, pomelo rosado vivo, aire de pomelo, reducción de remolacha, granita de tomate y frutillas. This was essentially a dense raspberry foam with with Campari sorbet, bilberries, pink grapefruit, beet reduction, and tomato and strawberries. This was certainly refreshing. The bitterness of the Campari sorbet overtook most of the other elements of this dish and, frankly, was not appetizing by itself. It definitely added “balance” to the sweeter elements of this dish.

Dessert came, and it was excellent. It was called chocolate 5-ways (crema, helado, sopa, marquisse y crocante), mainly for the 5 different types of chocolate: milk chocolate sorbert, orange dark chocolate sorbet, a brownie-like portion of cake, crispychocolate tuile, and a bit of milk chocolate sauce at the bottom. The orange flavored chocolate sorbet was a beautiful balance between citrus and chocolate, a combination I rarely like. Dessert was served with Rutini – Vino dulce encabezado de Malbec 2004, a sweet, but strong, wine that tasted like fresh oranges. While I liked this wine by itself, I thought the pairing was too straightforward: it complimented the chocolate-orange sorbet too much rather than adding depth by contrasting against it.

The petits fours came, one being a chocolate covered tree with pieces of dark chocolate with a mint leaf in the middle. The second plate contained white chocolate rasberry truffles.

This was the most adventurous restaurant experience I’ve had in Buenos Aires — the chef was not afraid to take risks and it showed. As such, the highs and lows of this meal were much more extreme than some of the other haute restaurants I’ve tried in the city. And I appreciated that. The bill came, and it was also the most expensive restaurant I’d visited in BA — nearly twice the price of the city’s Relais & Châteaux, which seemed somewhat ironic. Factoring in price, this place was way too expensive for the food it offered. It was a refreshing and fun experience, and some of the courses were quite good; but, I don’t think I’ll be repeating El Bistró for a while.

Several guide books had suggested Guerrín as having the “best pizza” in Buenos Aires.  Granted, pizza style is something very personal with many different varieties: thin crust, thick crust, brick oven, and even a la parilla (grilled!) to name a few. Coming from New York, a place which in my humble opinion has the best pizza outside of Italy, I had high standards. And frankly, I was disappointed.

The restaurant itself is fairly large with several seating areas. Near the entrance are two long and parallel counters where lunch-break employees grab slices and eat while standing. Towards the back is a sit-down restaurant with tables, and upstairs is a seating area for larger groups.  For those who opt against sit-down service, the line at the counter can get quite long so be prepared to wait.  Ironically, it might be faster to just grab a seat during busy lunch and dinner hours.

The pizza at Guerrín was cooked in a standard gas-fired pizza oven with a crust of medium thickness.  I ordered three slices: mozzarella, the “house special” (mozzarella with red pepper and an olive), and mozzarella with a slice faina.  The latter slice seemed to be the most popular.  The crust of all three slices was too dense, with a consistency somewhat similar to focaccia.  I would have liked the crust to be a little lighter with more air rather than heavy and compacted.  The texture was also slightly wet with minimal browning — my guess is the Argentine palate would send anything cooked further back as “burnt.”  My biggest concern, however, was the apparent lack of tomato sauce with way too much cheese.  On all of my slices, the tomato sauce was not even visible. No good.

The cooked pepper added nothing to the house special slice and, as for the olive, I just couldn’t do it … off it came.  The pizza had been sitting out for awhile: not long enough to warrant a re-heat and so, the cheese began to solidify.  Next up was the mozzarella slice with faina.  What would possess anyone to throw a slab of focaccia made from chickpea flour on top of a slice of pizza?  This weighed everything down, literally.  Locals say the faina acts as a sort of flavor sponge, absorbing the flavors from the cheese and sauce.  I suppose I am no local; to me, this seemed more like a distraction — isn’t the crust supposed to be a flavor sponge?  Why two?  Even on its own, however, the faina tasted somewhat like fish.  This was startling.

I’m not sure why Guerrín gets such praising reviews.  There are better places.

I’d spent the last few nights eating at local parillas, so tonight, I decided to head for something a little more upscale. Tonight’s destination was Restaurant Duhau, the restaurant of the Park Hyatt Buenos Aires. The restaurant describes itself as a contemporary restaurant focusing on fresh and seasonal ingredients which frankly, sounded pretty good to me. The restaurant is also known for its walk-in cheese room which highlights Argentine cheeses. I can’t say that I’ve had very much cheese in BA, something I enjoy very much. So naturally, this was appealing.

I decided to eat a little earlier than normal, 9pm; somehow, I’ve become desensitized to the concept of eating late. It was a bit of a maze to get to the restaurant once inside the hotel — down a flight of stairs, through an underground tunnel, and up another flight of stairs. What a workout … thankfully, I don’t smoke! Only later did I find out there was a “back entrance” to the restaurant. Oh well, I made it. I was greeted by the maître d’ who stood just outside the dining room awaiting guests. She pointed out the cheese room (mmm) and the tasting bar for the extensive wine selection. The room was fairly dark and covered in dark woods, and the walls were decorated with bottles of red wine. We entered the dining room, and she showed me to my table — one look at the menu, “menú degustación,” and my mind was set.

I started with the Salmón rosado del Pacífico marinado con hinojo, crema fresca de eneldo y lima, sashimi-style slices of pacific pink salmon marinated with fennel, dill cream, and lime. I always imagined fennel being a summer vegetable, which didn’t seem too seasonal for me, given it was the middle of winter. This dish was fairly simple. That being said, the salmon was indeed fresh and not at all salty. But I couldn’t help to think that this was something I could have prepared at home.

For the second appetizer, I had langostinos ecuatoriales salteados con reducción de bouillabaisse, croûton de salsa rouille, sautéed king prawns with a bouillabaisse reduction and a rouille croûton sauce. The highlight of this dish was the texture of the prawns: firm; but also, slightly milky. I understand that the slice of bread was served to soak up some of the bouillabaisse; but the bread was a little firm which made tearing difficult, and also left behind unattractive crumbs in the pure sauce. The bouillabaisse was also a little salty. But, this was a step up from the previous course.

It was now time for mains, and to start was a fish course, Filete de lenguado grillado a la parrilla, zapallo ancho, salsa al vino Malbec, a fillet of sole with pumpkin and Malbec wine sauce. Mm, pumpkin. It seemed like things were about to pick up. It’s incredible to me how much more flavorful fish is when the skin is left on. The grilled skin added a slight crisp against the soft and tender meat. The contrast between the slightly aggressive Malbec wine sauce and the more mild pumpkin sauce made this dish have interesting diversity.

The final main course came straight from Patagonia, un gigot de cordero Patagónico confitado cinco horas al tomillo y hongos de pino, leg of lam confited with thyme and pine mushrooms. This was without a doubt the highlight of the evening so far, with the lamb delicately breaking apart with only my fork. Very moist and not overly salty with a gentle taste of mushrooms.

Instead of dessert, I requested to have a cheese tasting since this was one of the main reasons I chose the restaurant. I was shown the cheese menu, and quickly realized that there were way to many cheeses, all of Argentine variety, that I hadn’t tried before. All the cheeses were prefaced with “Variety of …” implying that they were an Argentine variety of a popular European cheese. That, combined with the fact that there was a fromager on staff, led me to ask her to put together a selection of her 7 favorite cheeses. I was feeling open-minded. She responded with such enthusiasm, as if I was the first person to have ever asked her to do this. She promptly came back, with a beautiful plate: Oveja Manchega de 1984, Pecorino Sardo, Serrano, Crottin, Fresco de Cabra, Cabrambert, and Saint-Maure decorated with dried fruits and nuts, also something I hadn’t had in a few months. What made this plate for me was the Argentine Cabrambert, a soft cheese very similar to Taleggio, an earthy cheese loaded with hints of mushroom.

I think it says something when the best part of a meal is something the restaurant isn’t directly responsible for. Sure, they do have a fancy cheese refrigerator. But seriously now. Overall, this was a very average meal, not at all justified by the prices. But the cheese was fantastic, and the Patagonian lamb was pretty good. While I would not suggest coming here for dinner (unless you’re staying in the hotel), I would definitely recommend stopping by for a “light” afternoon lunch of Argentine cheese and wine.

It’s not frequent that someone runs a restaurant out of his apartment. But Dan Pearlman, former chef and food writer from New York, has opened a “puertas cerradas,” a closed-door restaurant with no public listing or phone number, out of his apartment in Buenos Aires. Guests sign up for one of twelve spots every Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Each week, Dan chooses a different quirky theme inspired usually, but not always, by dates loosely related to the weekend. Of the several times I’ve eaten at Casa Saltshaker, I’ll be discussing the two most recent: Transnistrian Independence Day and Mexican Independence day.

The address of Casa Saltshaker is only revealed via e-mail once a guest’s spot is confirmed. Guests are asked to arrive at 9pm so that dinner service can begin around 9:15pm. The guests tend to be a mix of expatriates, tourists, and even some Argentine locals. The crowd seems split between those who come with another guest, and those who come alone. Depending on the crowd of people for the night, mingling usually occurs in a mix of both Spanish and English.

The first time I arrived I came alone, and I wasn’t sure what the sentiment would feel like: would this be like a restaurant, or more like eating in someone’s apartment for dinner? Once I was brought into the apartment after ringing the doorbell, the latter seemed more accurate. And this was very positive; because the atmosphere was very relaxed and comfortable. I had arrived a little early, so I spent time talking with the spanish-speaking guests until everyone arrived and we were seated.

The group naturally segmented itself in two — spanish speakers, and english speakers. I opted for the spanish table, since it would be good to practice and since all the other seats at the english table were quickly taken. The mood was very calm, and I began to feel like an old friend had invited me to his apartment for dinner.

On Transnistrian independence day, we started with a small tart of 5 peppers served at room temperature. I would have preferred the tart to be served hot but; despite my distaste for cooked red peppers, the flavor was very nice. Next came the highlight of the savory courses, a mushroom strudel. The shell’s texture was beautifully thin and crispy and had a flavor that really enhanced the delicate earthy taste of the mushrooms. I probably could have eaten forty to fifty of these. Following the delicious strudel was a soup of white kidney beans. This meal, so far, was having a very nice progression in terms of weight — each dish gradually building up to the meat course. The soup was a little bland; but, a little salt did wonders. This was my least favorite course of the evening.

Next up was the pork chop with a garlic sauce. The pork chop was very good; but for me the best part of this course was the harina de maíz, a type of cornmeal with a grain size a bit smaller than polenta, making it extremely light and fluffy. the harina de maíz had quite a bit of butter, making the flavor very rich. Finishing off the meal was, quite frankly, some of the best chocolate cheesecake I’d ever had. The cheesecake consisted of bittersweet chocolate with a sifting of confectioner’s sugar for added sweetness and decoration. I’d never been so fond of Transnistrian before!

On my most recent visit to Casa Saltshaker, we celebrated Mexican Independence day. We started off with a summer squash pastry and roasted tomato sauce. The pastry shell was thin and light, and very nicely made. But, I found the summer squash filling to be somewhat flavorless. Most of the flavor, for me, came from the roasted tomato sauce which had a nice smoky essence to it. Next up was the persian onion soup with lemon and mint. This was no good. Way too strong on the lemon, it was the only thing I could taste. The texture was also very thin. Granted, these qualities are native for the type of soup it is; I just didn’t like it. And, to be fair, it was the only course at Casa Saltshaker that I ever disliked entirely. Things picked up, and the next course was white tuna wrapped in oak lettuce with an almond caper sauce, fresh tomatoes, and green olives. While a little bit of the lettuce leaf’s beauty was lost to the steaming in the oven, the flavor didn’t go anywhere. I generally find capers to be too strong, let alone when served with diced olives; but, the oven steaming seemed to ease the strength of these ingredients which, ultimately, complimented the fish very nicely. This was the highlight dish of the night.

Last of the savories was a chicken breast cooked with dried fruit. I really liked the concept of balancing sweet with savory; but, I felt like the saltiness of the chicken really made it difficult to taste the sweetness of the fruit. I would have liked this balance to be shifted more in the sweet direction. I also found the chicken to be a little firm. Something seemed missing from this plate, perhaps a starch like rice would have went nicely. Last up I was, once again, blown away with the cheesecake. This time, it was of sweet potato with freshly whipped cream. Why can’t all cheesecakes taste like this?

When factoring in uniqueness, comfort, atmosphere, and overall experience, Casa Saltshaker has the honor of being my favorite place for dinner in Buenos Aires. It’s difficult to compare this place to other restaurants in Buenos Aires because, quite simply, it’s not a restaurant. I would place Casa Saltshaker somewhere inbetween a restaurant and a chef friend’s personal dinner party. And with that in mind, I highly recommend visiting this place at least once during a trip to Buenos Aires. And, if you can, try to go during a night with Cheesecake!