Courtney Tackles a Small Farm

After the Sunday Asado I was invited to by my new friends, I am finally able to write about my experience. It took me 2 full days to recover; easily the best meat of my life. Now, I know all the rage in Argentina is the beef- how decadent and delicious it is. No one is lying. It really is THAT good. It´s not just the beef, either. I had a hot dog that probably could have boasted better than some cuts of steak back home. But at the weekend Asado, I ate things that are only served to royalty. Everything (except one piece of something or other) was cooked to perfection. If it had a bone, the juicy meat slid off effortlessly. Using my knife, I created mini ponds of meat juice that I so gracefully sopped up with my loaf of bread. The marinade was to die for.

Now, I mentioned that this family was not a group of small, thin individuals. They are indeed larger than life. Ma and Pa, and the 4 kids. The 2 girls, seemed to be straying from the family tradition of obesity, but the 2 boys, well, they appear to embrace the family way. Even the pets were massive. The fish got fed double portions and the dog, well his name was Spanish for Hot Dog. He looked to be around the size of a large pig. I´m sure if I wanted, it would have been possible to strap on some reins and ridden him home, like a pony, or one of those freakishly funny mini horses.

I arrived at the house which is conveniently located behind the Panaderia around 2pm. All of us sat at the table and our eating commenced shortly after that. The food wasn´t limited to meat and bread. The feast was complete with 2 types of salad, grilled veggies, and numerous drinks. Trying to never show up empty handed, I brought along a bottle of Malbec. They were very pleased and said since I was a guest, they were bringing out a different wine for me to taste. Well, it was nothing short of scrumptious. Needless to say, we finished that bottle. After we all finished our first serving of heart attack on a plate, we all went for seconds..and thirds...and some of us fourths. (Maybe that was me.) I only had trouble once when the piece of meet I was trying to slice refused to be cut. At home, I would have showed that hunk of stubborn food how we do things in ´Merica, and chewed that sona´bitch right to pieces. (Yeah sorry, I really did say that in my head with a hickish accent.) Sergio saw my troubles with this and informed me that that it was a bad piece of meat. It was too thin to be cooked with the others so instead the suspicious meat burned itself and was basically no longer edible. He threw it away and gave me another another. We have gone nearly an hour and a half, eating, laughing, talking, and people seemed to be winding down. Not Courtney Beer. I gracefully stabbed my fork into a piece or chorizo and made a petite sandwich...chori y pan...one of my favorite things to eat here. Yes friends, I out ate the fat people. (Please read that last sentence again; first for the emphasis of my accomplishment and second , for you gutter minded people, it does NOT say what you think it says.) It was so good I couldn´t afford not to.

After lunch, we had cocktails. Fernet is a popular alcohol here. It´s derived from an herb, has a slight medicinal taste to it, maybe like Campari, (Only not like ass), and is normally mixed with coke or pepsi. The alcohol content is not extremely high and is popular throughout Argentina. It tasted delicious post eating a small farm.

From here on out, the story only goes downhill.

There I am drinking my beverage and looking at amazing books with photos of Argentina, and getting recommendations on where to travel. The eldest daughter enters the room with 3 boxes. They are all Ice Cream. (Dear God, I can´t eat anymore.) I was prepping my ´thanks, but no thanks´ phrase in my head when a massive bowl is put in front of me. It is Dulce de Leche flavor with HUGE chunks of chocolate. Full or not, I am eating you, ice cream! We all get down to business. Ice cream is being devoured all over the place. Someone gave to dog ice cream. We were all smiles, and giggles. (Weird how ice cream does that to you. Somewhere after the second or third bite, I think people are brought back to the memory of running after the ice cream truck on a hot summer afternoon. After eating the gummy eyes off an ice cream shaped like a popular action figure, giggling seemed to take over everyone.)

I was just getting ready to undo the button to my pants when I was offered another serving of dessert. I declined and was very thankful they asked me this time. We proceeded to watch re runs of Jack Ass which everyone though was knee slappin´ hilarious. About 15 minutes post ice cream, someone started boiling water for maté. Even though this isn´t a food, and merely a tea type beverage, I had no room left in my body for it. Did that stop me? Nope. I wanted to prove I wasn´t a wimp. Don´t bench me coach, I´m a team player, and I play tough!!!

We go through a few rounds of this. (Quick insight to Maté in case anybody is unfamiliar...It is a herb tea drunk from a gourd communally through a bombilla ((metal straw with a filter on the end, so you don´t suck up the leaves)) and usually has sugar added. Each person is passed the maté and drinks it dry, passes it back for another round, and it goes around again.) Some other family and friends show up- I´m introduced at the Funny American, and we all talk some more...and laugh.

In the time that I try and explain the location of New Mexico to someone, tell them that it is NOT a part of old Mexico, and try to explain the word ´flip-flops,´ Sergio has left and returned. With him he has actually brought the devil. He has 2 bags of rolls, one large container of dulce de leche, and a tray (not a plate, but a tray) of doughnuts, pastries, medilunas, and other baked goods. Only one thought ran through my head. Please imagine the banner at the bottom of the television screen on Head Line News or the large news strip on the buildings in Times Square that posts news updates- running through my head. it says:

WHERE.IS.ALL.OF.THIS.SUPPOSED.TO.FIT!!!!!!!

We´re working on 4 hours of continuous eating here. It´s not that I´m not a fan of eating, because it surly is one of my favorite pass times, but physically, I am unsure of the foods ability to create room in my little stomach. I have already used up the spare space from for the 5 extra pieces of unidentified, yet disgustingly delicious meat. I manged a small piece of bread, with some dulce de leche, and then I put a stop to the madness. Lucy asked my why I didn´t want anymore, and I looked at her...then my stomach...then back at her...and finally said, ¿Donde ponerlo? I think my Spanish was incorrect, but she understood and laughed. Everyone laughed. We spoke some more, and I promised to come back before I left Argentina. I had to call and tell someone about my afternoon, if only to describe how incredible the food was. My family (The Beer´s) likes to eat as much as I do and they enjoyed the story!

I got home and was unable to eat dinner with my other family. I was sent home with bread and dulce de leche for the next day; souvenirs of my expedition climbing Comida Mountain. Even though I had tapped out on the food eating (bench me, coach...I played hard and tough, but even the best need to rest), it took everything in me not to steal a piece of meat from the fridge- it was that delicious. All of Monday I was full. And up until lunch yesterday, I thought I had stocked up for the winter. I ate like it was going out of style, like I was Jesus and this was, in fact, The Last Supper. Today I am fully recovered, well rested, ready to take this world by the horns.......

...or I was until being rudely awakened at 7 am by the neighbor blaring DISNEY SONGS and jack hammering things. I contemplated murdering him. To make it worse, and if I wasn´t already awake, I got humped viciously by the family dog. I was on my bed, and he straight up mounted me, little erection and all. I almost cried. I did learn however that they do not have the reflexes that of which cats do and when launched across the room at the speed of light, do not land on their feet. I almost felt bad, and then I saw his massive doggie balls and got over it.

Buen día para todos!