Heaven: in or out?

We died and went to steak heaven tonight. We ate at Campobravo (Baez 292) a few blocks from our apartment.

We chose to be unfashionable (heading out the door at 8:15 p.m.) so we could get a sidewalk table. We ordered martinis instead of wine (a mistake we won't repeat...see the previous post), a roasted red pepper with olive oil as our (delicious) appetizer, then shared a quite large bife chorizo (sirloin steak) and a platter of grilled vegetables.

This steak was so good, I can't even begin to describe it. But I'll try. It was thick, and tender, and juicy and perfectly cooked (seared on the outside, and evenly rosy throughout the inside). The flavor was...beefy. Delicious.

Anyway, imagine my surprise when, as we began to walk away from the restaurant, J says to me "We're never coming back here."

WTF?

Turns out, the bill included a 10 peso (5 pesos each) cubierto fee. AKA, a silverware charge. This was two nights in a row we saw this on our dinner bill (Wednesday night it was 7 pesos each, and for a mediocre meal at that). A little Google search revealed that this charge used to be common in Buenos Aires, went away for a while, and is now back. Some restaurants charge it, some don't. The fee tends to range from 2 to 10 pesos. It allegedly covers "extras" like silverware, napkins and bread.

I guess the question becomes, what price are we willing to pay to go back to heaven?

Lost in translation

We've found many things to love in Buenos Aires so far in our few days here (beef, ice cream, cafes, sidewalk seating, architecture, the subway system), many things we don't like but can tolerate (dodging dog poo on every sidewalk, the abundance of mullets, insanely crazy drivers), but let us state for the record that there are two things here that are awful beyond compare: toilet paper and martinis.

The "softest" toilet paper is a few cuts above sandpaper, and the martinis we ordered tonight were so strange that we couldn't figure out what the deal was with them. Sweet vermouth? Olive juice? Lemon juice? Cheap gin? So very odd. Plus, they cut a straw in half to use as olive picks...need I say more? I think we'll stick to wine and Quilmes from here on out, thank you very much.

What a dollar can buy

After Tuesday's rainfest, Wednesday delivered a picture-perfect morning. The birds were singing, the sun was softly glowing, a breeze was gently blowing. You get the idea.

The day turned out to be fiscally fine, too. While not everything in Buenos Aires comes with a rock-bottom price tag, we did very well for ourselves on this glorious day, starting with breakfast at Ocio, the cute cafe around the corner from our apartment:

• Cafe con leche (a latte, in Seattle vernacular) with three medialunas (small croissants), the most traditional of Buenos Aires breakfasts: 10 pesos ($2.90 US).
  
• Cafe con leche with tostadas (aka three thin slices of toasted rustic bread) served with tiny ramekins of soft, spreadable cheese and strawberry jam and a small glass of freshly squeezed orange juice: 12 pesos ($3.48 US).
  

Priceless extras: whenever you order a cafe at a cafe, it comes to you with a small glass of mineral water and a tiny plate of a few tiny cookies. Lovely anytime, but especially when you need a little between-meal pick-me-up.

We walked off breakfast by hoofing it a few miles to the la Chacarita neighborhood, primarily to check out a weekly farmer's market we had heard about. Located in a small, brightly painted building next to a rail yard, it offered up a bounty of Argentine grown, Argentine-produced items. Fresh local produce, baked goods, olive oil, wine, soap, dried fruits, nuts, etc. We walked away 53 pesos ($16.37 US) poorer, but so much the richer, because those few dollars bought us:

• One bottle of Malbec wine from Argentina's Mendoza region.
  
• Two adorable fruit tarts with lattice-top crusts.
  
• Five tomatoes.
  
• Small bag of dried whole peaches (which are delicious beyond compare).
  
• Small bag of dried pears.
  
• Small bag of mixed dried fruit (figs, grapes, etc.).
  
• Small bag of the most almondy almonds we've ever tasted in our lives.

We dropped off a bag of dirty clothes one of the several laundries in our neighborhood and picked them up clean a few hours later for 12 pesos, or $3.48. A stop at one of the several neighborhood supermercados got us two 2-liter bottles of water, a large bottle of Quilmes Stout and toilet paper (since our apartment came with less than two rolls!) for $3.70.

We learned a hard lesson when we visited the Alto Palermo mall (We're officially sick of malls,  in any hemisphere) and went to a touristy, so-so, overpriced restaurant. Ugh. Never again...we have learned our lesson (Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me!).

Our luck turned for the better after that, ending on a sweet note when we stopped at the original outpost of Persicco for the best ice cream ever in this world or any other. We shared a small (ha!) cup of half tiramisu and half mousse de chocolate. Yum! Since there is a newer branch near our apartment, we will be going back often, I'm sure.