Argentinian Food Journal

A picture is worth a thousand words, right?
Well here are a few sketchbook pages from my trip to Argentina, home to coffee, wine, chocolate, pastries and red wine. All the good good bad things...

xxx

Argentinian Curanto

.

If you aren't following my steady stream of excited food chatter on Twitter , then you may not realise I am currently doing some extensive food research in the land of wine, coffee, red meat, chocolate and all things toxic- I am eating in Argentina, and I thoroughly approve.

A few days ago I took a 20 hour bus from the capital of Buenos Aires to Bariloche, in the Patagonian Andes where today, I tried Caranto.

Caranto is made by cooking meat and vegetables under ground (The name Calanto comes from the type of rock on which the meat is cooked.) Pits are dug into the soil and wood is placed in them, onto which a fire is built. The fire is layered over with rocks, which are heated by the flames. It takes a few hours for the fire to heat the rocks through, after which leaves are piled onto the hot rocks to trap in the smoke and absorb the fat whilst the meat, which is placed on top, is cooked through from the heat.

My only previous experience of Caranto has been on survival documentaries, and it is something I've been keen to try, so we found ourselves a restaurant where caranto meat was being carried on trays from table to table, distributed by waitresses onto waiting plates. We arrive, and a man pulls back a heavy blanket which covers the pit of leaves, revealing a deep pit filled with whole chickens, piles of apples and lumps of blackened steaks, smoke billowing out from the piles of leaves covering the pit.

A scruffy little caranto pit.
Not a great photo! I will replace it when I get the opportunity so you can get a better idea...

Typically, you are served 5 portions of vegetables and meat- sausage, beef, chicken, lamb and my favourite (unusually) pork; with a soft, wrinkled whole baked apple. Each meat came with a variety of squash mashes and baked sweet potato, brought to the table one at a time. The meat and vegetables (and the very air of the restaurant) smells and tastes distinctly smokey, yet different -more earthy- than typical barbeque'd meat.

I'm not especially a fan of red meat or BBQ food (you may wonder what I'm doing in Argentina... Did I mention the chocolate and the wine..?) but it was nonetheless a good meal, and well worth the very traditionally South American experience.

Please check back for more Argentina posts, including recipes, experimentations with South American cuisine and illustrated gourmet guides!

xxx

Food fact of the Day- Argentina special

Argentina eats the most beef per person in the world, all though the number is in decline, and recently Uruguay has claimed to be number one.

Latest figures say 55 kilos are consumed per person each year- that's 243 8oz steaks per year...

xx

Food Fact of the Day

The word Venison was once used to refer to the meat of any animal killed by hunting and typically applied to deer, hare, wild pig and goats. The word derives from th Latin venor (to hunt or persue).

It now generally refers to dear meat. In South Africa, venison is the meat of the antelope.

x

Thanks to Papa for this venison food fact!

The Butcher and Grill, Battersea

The Butcher and Grill

I have to admit that usually, any eatery with '... and grill' in the title would have be running for the hills. Happily, this is not the case for the 'Butcher and Grill' located in Battersea, London. Hailed as a 'modern butcher shop and informal restaurant', it's a unique combination of butcher, deli and dining room- with a bar, terrace for coffee and patisserie all in situ.

To reach the restaurant, you are lead past the meat counters that flag the door and through the deli before ascending steps up to the simple, spacious white and blue decked restaurant and waterside terrace. Smart move. Delis have the tendency to get my heart racing- even more so when I know that its locally sourced stock will be gracing the menu I will soon be examining.

~

The menu was a little different to the online version that I had read and memorised with military precision, so ordering turned out not to be as streamlined and flippant as I had envisaged. After painful deliberation, I opted for the half pint of prawns, drawn in by the promise of aioli,which seems to be frequenting every menu ever right now. My partner in crime went for the minted pea soup.

Upon ordering, the table was laid with thick cloth napkins, heavy carved knives and a wooden box of rolls- half white and floury, half small, round and stuffed with olives- and was, before the food had even arrived, looking good enough to eat.

The prawns arrive, looking simple and appealing piled into a pint glass. No 80's style cocktail glass throwbacks to be found here. Relief. The aoli doesn't disappoint, especially alongside the scone-like olive bread. Having a little taster of the soup I have fleeting food envy- the mint to pea balance is just right and tastes fresh and light.

When it comes to menus, there are always certain ingredients that I gravitate towards. If there is scallops as a starter for example, then it is inevitable that I will find myself with scallops. When it comes to mains, I'm always drawn to seafood, so when I saw the fish stew I was very tempted. But, just like I wouldn't order a steak in Loch Fyne, I had to order tactically and it seemed a waste to not order meat in a restaurant with its own butcher on site.
So we ordered the 7oz rump steak (for the lady) a 10oz rib eye steak, green peppercorn sauce and two sides of spinach and puy lentils.

We both ordered the steaks medium rare. I don't approve of a steak that is one colour the whole way through- especially if that colour is brown. I like a bit of pink. Its worth noting that they are cooked medium rare 'English style'- browned, with a thick pink hue and a bit of juice- as opposed to medium rare European style. This is fact rather than complaint, as we were after all, in an English butcher's... But remember this if you like your meat to moo.

The meat was served simply with a grilled tomato and two flat mushrooms and the chips came separately in a little brown garden pot. Being an very synesthetic person, I got a distinct feel of the seaside from the thick cut and crispy chips, but without any of the greasiness, guilt and self loathing that is so often part of the seaside experience. I was delighted with the small, well presented portion but my male companion, though approving of the chunky British cut, was less than impressed by the meagre quantity that could be stuffed into a Bill and Ben sized pot.

And the extras? The sauce came in a jug and if I am going to be pinikity,could have done with a little more green peppercorn But could all too easily be forgiven by the richness of flavour it still imparted.
The spinach was- spinach really.
The lentils however stole the (side) show. As someone who almost always cooks lentils African style with plenty of cumin and sweet spices, I found the fresh spring flavours of lentils cooked instead with carrot and garlic to feel light and healthy and quite delicate for what is generally a fairly inelegant pulse.



By the time our plates were cleared away, I was feeling full without being stuffed or feeling weighed down. I find that as a self confessed glut, it is a rare thing to find that elusive but ever-so satisfying fine balance between feeling slightly unsatisfied and the awful and all too common restaurant experience- stuffed like fois gras and sick with regret.
I found myself feeling full, but comfortable. Usually at this point in the meal I face the pudding menu with all the fierce conviction of a martyr, fully prepared to suffer for my art. On this occasion, I could have left without a dessert (could have, but wouldn't have) but felt comfortable enough to study the menu without it being overshadowed by a sense of impending doom.

Again, with puddings I have my classic choices, for classic menus. I cannot say no to a cheesecake. The menu had all the usual suspects; tarte tatin, cheesecake (my two old friends) and chocolate brownie- although the white chocolate and orange cheesecake did at least make an effort to inject some variety into the well versed formula.
I resist my natural urges and decided to try something new (it is, after all, my first review) and so I resolutely went for the peach and champagne sorbet that had caught my eye online earlier (alongside the almond or honeycomb ice-cream and elderflower and limencello sorbet).

A cheeseboard is the kind of course that can present quite a hurdle for a restaurant- either excelling in an abundance of cheeses in a variety of textures or failing dismally; too many water biscuits in ratio to a few paltry slices of cheddar. So I was intrigued to see theirs, and pleased when it was ordered.

Despite a fleeting pang of cheesecake related regret, I was soothed by the light, peachy sorbet. Though somewhat lacking in presentation (especially in comparison to previous courses. It had so much potential.) it was perfect to slowly lick away at whilst the meal drew to an unhurried close. The texture was sticky and bubbly, the syrup it melted into, sweet and fruity.

The cheeseboard by comparison, was everything I had hoped for my sorbet and more. On a long slab of slate, the portion was generous, with elegantly sliced apple, locally sourced oat biscuits from the deli and a lovely, tangy chutney that beautifully compliment the good variety of cheese, including brie and wax coated cheddar (though there was a distinct lack of blue vein.)


Final thought:

I love the open plan deli/butchers at the front and large spacious restaurant above. From the white/blue theme and views of the river to the huge cattle prints and wooden carved knives, the decor really worked to create an elegant but laid back and ultimately relaxing atmosphere.
The food was beautifully presented and consistently good- made more enjoyable knowing ingredients had been sourced from the meat counter on site. I would particularly recommend the cheeseboard- and try get a table by the large windows. If you eat early, the light is lovely. A good British eatery for dinner out with family or friends.
I left feeling well fed and satisfied- without any heaviness or regret. A rare and happy phenomenon!

The Butcher and grill, 39-41 Parkgate Road, Battersea, London, SW11 4NP
020 7924 3999
http://www.butcherandgrill.com/

x

Food Fact of the Day.

.

'Carnival' comes from the latin 'farewell meat', in reference to the last few days of meat-eating decadence before lent...

x