Day 3 - Jueves a la Mesa

November 16 - Buenos Aires, Argentina

For breakfast we ate at a place called Tiendas Naturales (naturally, this was my choice), which was exactly as it sounded – a small but healthy bowl of yogurt with a relatively large price tag.
We then put on our running shoes and headed out.  We checked out the  polo grounds and the hipodrome where horse races are held. Argentina definitely loves their horses.

I did yoga in the park with the pigeons, while Evan watched them intently.  We went to lunch at a place we had observed as busy earlier.  I learned the word for Arugula -  Rúcula.  Evan learned the word for “raw” (crudo) as he asked the server for uncooked onions rather than caramelized.  She proceeded to respond in English, a reminder that our Spanish is piss poor.  No raw onions – how can you have caramelized onions but none raw?

We freshened up, did a little work, then walked to the MALBA - Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires.  Some interesting pieces and artists on display at the museum. We then began a long adventurous walk to dinner.  More than an hour later, we arrived at a nondescript apartment complex on Venezuela street for dinner at a "puerta cerrada", or a closed door dinner.

After climbing two flights of very cramped stairs, we arrived in a huge dining room with maybe 12 foot ceilings in a humble apartment.  The atmosphere was extremely warm and welcoming – everyone had a smile on their face, the scent of mint and incense drifted into the room, and a large dining room table was set for guests.  The lead, Meghan, treated us like we had known her forever.  I quickly noticed signs that the room was transformed into a yoga studio during the day, which was confirmed by one of the guests who said she had a massage right where the table stood earlier that day.  It became clear that those who lived in the house were health-conscious, people-conscious, strong women that I wished I could be friends with.

We were nervous that we’d be the only English speakers.  As guests arrived, it was clear by the "nice to meet you's" that we were not.

The night's temperature was comfortable and all of the french doors were open to the courtyard, letting the breeze filter in.  Meghan started the dinner explaining the why behind the dinner, and telling the story of how she became friends with her assistant for the night.  She let us know that tonight was the end of an 8 year run of "jueves a la mesa" which made us feel even more lucky for sneaking into the meal last minute.

Dinner was based on vegetarian Indonesian cuisine.  We had a coconut carrot soup, with toasted coconut and a little bit of heat.  Next was a salad with a hearty and delicious peanut sauce (spinach, cabbage, carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers), followed by a fried brown rice dish, with charred tofu and some roasted vegetables, with a soft heat that left your mouth a little tingly.

The conversation on our end of the table bounced back and forth from English to Spanish, trying to appease all guests.  We talked about food, travels, relationships, and coffee.  The other end of the table was a part of a tour group that had been traveling together for a few weeks, and thus much of their conversation was about what to do next in Argentina.  My ears were perked, politely :)

Evan was “taking it slow” he told me after the main course – and I asked why.  He calmly let me know that "we’ve got two more courses coming, five courses total!"  I hesitantly let him know it was only three courses, plus dessert, and we were on to dessert.

To my great excitement, an organic Malbec was also poured, splashed carefully into our eclectic mini wine glasses.  It made me excited to sample more wine throughout Argentina (as soon as I felt 80% better).  Dessert was the chef's one recipe of secret: dark chocolate, in the shape of hearts, flavored with fennel and orange.  Other ingredients I tried to pull out were honey, cocoa powder, bittersweet chocolate, and coconut butter/oil.  The texture was thick and smooth like a chilled butter.  I hope to recreate!  (sorry for the bad photos)

I received inspiration for my next dinner gathering, and also for thinking outside of the business box (and I have a feeling a lot of this was off the books since payments were in cash).

We planned to walk or take the bus home but it was almost midnight and either would take an hour.  Despite the disdain for Uber by the taxi drivers, we called one.  The driver attempted to kindly converse with us, but his voice was soft and his slang was heavy.  We couldn’t understand most of what he said - sorry, dude.

We took the tiny elevator up to the 13th floor of our apartment building, and Evan muttered "Dang, I should have eaten more of that rice."