Horrors from Distant Shores

This entry was supposed to have been the recap of our family's Christmas vacation in San Martin de los Andes. That is being postponed; warm and fuzzy feelings of holiday celebrations seem trivial in the face of the massacres in the Gaza Strip. (Photo from Aljazeera.net through The Palestinian Chronicle.)

Contrary to Israeli excuses for their savagery, Hamas was not the one to violate the cease fire. Israel did when it bombed the tunnels Palestinians had dug to bring in supplies. Israel has confined 1.5 million people in a space smaller than 140 square miles. Regularly it shuts down entry and exit points, prohibiting delivery of food, medical supplies, and other basic needs, including supplies coming from the United Nations. It also regularly cuts off power. Sort of like a concentration camp. 

For more background and analysis, check out these recent reports: Hannukah Games and Barack Obama on Siege, Killings in Gaza.

 

Voice your outrage to the Israelis and the U.S. government, which provides the weapons that are being used not for protection but for genocide:

• Israeli Embassy in Washington, DC: info@washington.mfa.gov.il
  
• White House: comments@whitehouse.gov
  
• Obama transition team
  

Cocina Mexicana en Argentina

El dia de la Virgen de Guadalupe had passed by a mere three days when we decided to have a Mexican feast. Our new wooden tortilla press from La Michoacana in East Austin, Texas, faced its first real test: enough authentic Mexican tortillas to make a tray of enchiladas. We had dabbled with the press since bringing it to Buenos Aires in our backpack after Thanksgiving, making tentative orders of small, thick tortillas for "sopes'' and a few tortillas to be used as a substitute for bread with a Cuban dish, picadillo. 

These early efforts emboldened us. Using the masa de maiz we had brought back with the press, Kurt made around 15 tortillas.

The process is not hard but requires a deft touch. You mix a little water with the masa, knead this for a couple of minutes till you get the right consistency, then form small balls. Next, using the press, turn each ball into a tortilla. Gently peel the tortilla from the plastic lining the press and flop it on the very hot comal, or flat griddle, for about a minute on each side. Then toss it into a tortilla warmer to keep it warm til ready to use. Kurt's tortillas turned out perfect!

For her part, Linda sauteed broccoli and mushrooms and added them to a bed of grated mozzarella cheese (an easy substitute for queso asadero) in each tortilla. She rolled them up, then layered the enchiladas with some salsa verde, cream, and the rest of the grated mozzarella, and then popped the concoction into the oven for a while. More salsa verde and cream and shredded lettuce, diced tomatoes, and cilantro were then added as garnishes. 

Complimenting the meal was Belen's best-ever guacamole, plus refried beans from El Paso, Texas, scored at Jumbo, a Chilean-owned supermarket in Palermo that carries a weird assortment of of imported foods catering to Mexicans (or gringos looking for Mexican food), Arabs, and Germans.

Photos of the process and the results.

SIDE NOTE: Since moving to Argentina last May, we have experienced painful withdrawal from Mexican food and its northern neighbor Tex Mex. We have been tempted to go to some of the few Mexican restaurant in Buenos Aires but always nix the idea after reading negative blog comments. No Mexican food is better than bad Mexican food, we say. We have no complaints about the Italo/Gaucho cuisine of our adopted country, but after three years in Mexico City in the early 1970s and many years since reliving the culinary experiences, Mexican food is like an addiction for us. On our recent trip back to Austin, Kurt ate Mexican food every meal except two over a period of five days. Now we can indulge here in BA, too.

Buenos Aires: Much More Than a City

Beyond Buenos Aires city -- the Capital Federal, as it's defined -- are the suburban bedroom communities of Gran Buenos Aires and the small towns of the Provincia of Buenos Aires. This past week we explored more of these parts as Salih's visit drew to an end.

Wednesday, Dec. 10, the four of us set out for Tigre, a small town northwest of the city where three rivers come together in the Delta to form the giant Rio de la Plata. From our apartment, we first took the subway's D line to Ministro Carranza (90 centavos per ticket), then the commuter train to Mitre Station (another 65 centavos each), and finally the Tren de la Costa (7 pesos each at the residents' rate). With the Argentine peso now trading at around 3.4 to the dollar, the hour-long trip was a real bargain.

We arrived too late to take any of the regular boat excursions through the Delta. Instead, we hopped aboard one of the small commuter launches that serve the people who live on the many little islands in the Delta. Folks heading home after work and/or shopping trips were dropped off at individual or neighborhood piers. Waterways provide the only access; no cars here.

Photos of our visit to Tigre here. 

The next day we headed further northwest to San Antonio de Areco, best known for its annual gaucho festival in November. We hired our friend Eduardo, a professional driver and man of much knowledge about all things Argentine, to transport us over the 120 kilometer distance. As we rolled from the city through Gran Buenos Aires, the scenery changed from the high rises and great parks of the metropolis to the shopping centers of the suburbs. We knew we had hit the "campo" when the multi-laned autopista abruptly ended at a final toll both, giving way to spreading fields of corn, soy, and wheat interspersed with horse pastures and shady groves of trees.

Our first stop, a gas station on the outskirts of San Antonio, included a distinctively Argentine feature: a vending machine selling hot water for mate, the herbal drink of choice here. We headed to the gaucho museum (where Belen immediately bonded with a small dog we named in honor of Salih), then downtown for a lunch of what else but fine Argentine beef, followed up by a stroll through the historic center and then liquid refreshments under a shade tree outside "la Esquina de Merti," a vintage watering hole and restaurant. Next time we stay longer.

Photos of San Antonio de Areco here.

San Telmo & Other Sights of the City

Daughter Belen and friend Salih Mendos from Turkey arrived in Buenos Aires a few days before we returned from Thanksgiving with son Joey in Texas. Showing Salih around has been a good opportunity for us to revisit spots we've not been to in a while. 

This past Sunday we headed down to San Telmo, the oldest part of the city. Every weekend a giant street fair holds something for everyone: antiques and artesanias, mimes and musicians, and everything in between. Our favorite activity is listening to the Orquestra El Afronte, a tango band that is always set up in front of San Telmo Church. (San Telmo -- or St. Elmo in English -- is the patron saint of sailors.)

In other excursions, we've hiked through the Ecological Reserve by the river and spent a lovely afternoon in the Botanical Gardens of Palermo playing a round of crazy eights. Salih is the new champion.