There was a burger joint here. And it looked pretty cool.  My recent visit to Argentina was just a bit overwhelming. It was a week full of “what if”‘s, “if only”‘s, and “well I’m glad I didn’t…”‘s. There were 1-in-a-million chance ex-boyfriend spottings and ghosts lurking around every corner. There were effeminate hissy fits from more recent flings and a dramatic,…

I have the same type of love/hate relationship with Las Cañitas in Buenos Aires as with South Beach or LKF in Hong Kong. These are polished up neighborhoods designed to attract tourists and expats like moths to the neon-tinted flame. In each one there is usually at least one fake-ass “Tuscan Trattoria” with red and white checked, plastic tablecloths. There…

My landlady in Argentina was often times like a mother to me, taking the place of my actual mama who was no longer just a T ride away. She’d sometimes become annoyed when I’d leave my room in disarray and she’d tell me (in front of friends) “Te engordaste. Se ve en tus brazos” when…

Raw morcilla, he said. I thought he was joking. He’s a man who is freaked out by meat that has to be chewed off bone. So….no chicken wings. He also doesn’t “do” garlic unless he is blissfully unaware of its presence in a dish. But uncooked blood sausage? No problem. I took his word when…

At the beginning of my trip back to the Bee-Ay there was nothing I craved more than the traditional stuff I had subsisted on when I lived there. I wanted steaming hot empanadas, gooey provoleta sprinkled with oregano and the array of steaks and offal that make up any proper Argentine asado. At one point…

I’ve been hungover in a variety of cities and have learned the perfect local cure in a handful of them. In Chile it’s a plate of chorrillana. In Hong Kong it’s a mango puree in Mongkok and char siu bao from the closest bakery. In Argentina it’s choripán. I’ve serenaded this thing, referring to it as the “king of…

I received the following photo through a What’s App message sent at 2:30 a.m. a few nights ago. “I was a little drunk but now I feel good. Use the picture for the review you’re going to write about the shawarma place.” The shawarma place referred to is Sinior Shawarma, a Palermo Soho landmark situated…

After five days in Patagonia I was ready to enjoy the summer of the Western Hemisphere a bit closer to the Equator. I had come for, seen and conquered Perito Moreno. I had stood, mouth gape, paralyzed by the beauty of this end of the world. But the winds and cold were cramping my style…

I was a little bit wobbly both in form and thought as I stepped out of my friend’s apartment in Belgrano into humidity and 85° degree late summer heat. I wore white capris and a sheer, lime-green sleeveless. Having only rarely glanced at my own skin during frigid cold winter months, I had forgotten how…

My first night in Buenos Aires found me in a crowded stadium, cheering along with River Plate fans as our boys in red and white assailed the Mendocino goal. I am almost notorious at this point for not owning a single sports fan jersey, a source of great and all-too-frequent shame to my friends at…