Even as I sit on my balcony, a smoke stack across the canal in the heart of Buenos Aires is billowing smoke rich with the aroma of grilling beef which occasionally wafts my way on the summer wind. The fact that this in no way makes me crave beef, and in fact even makes me feel a bit ill, indicates just how much steak I’ve managed to somehow consume in the past week. One thing I will give to the Argentinians, they have set a new bar for me, and even my Texas-born boss, for steak. The flavors and cuts are devastatingly flavorful and perfectly cooked. So for me to say I don’t want to eat any more steak as long as I’m here took some doing. But here we are.
The trip has unfortunately been mostly work until today, but I’ve still tried to get what sense I can of the place. Starting with today’s tour by our ever-attentive driver Bernie, and the next several days until I leave on Sunday, I hope to delve in a little more to what makes Buenos Aires unique. I also hope to not suck quite so badly at Spanish as well.
I think one of these things is far more likely than the other.