$2.5 million chivito restaurant opens in Buenos Aires; best thing to happen there in recent memory »
mmm, chivitos…
(Source: paulbrady)
Ever wanted to see the power of Creative Commons in action?
Here’s a fun scavenger hunt activity for those of you heading to Austin for SXSW: find my photo of Puerto Madero at the University of Texas’s Blanton Museum of Art. It’s illustrating historical background for their show, Recovering Beauty: The 1990s in Buenos Aires.
(Exhibit photos courtesy of Jacqueline Abreo of The Blanton Museum.)
Just outside the borehole, a reporter asked Marcela Zúñiga, a nurse, when the miners would receive their first empanadas, a popular Chilean pastry usually stuffed with meat. “Those are being prepared by a special team in Santiago,” Ms. Zúñiga said.
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Facing Long Mine Rescue, Chile Spares No Expense (via NYT) Special emergency empanada-making teams at the ready in the capital? How could you not love Chile? |
The Spanish introduced cattle to Uruguay more than 400 years ago, and beef has long been its most important export industry. Cows outnumber people more than three to one in this country of 3.4 million, where about 80 percent of the land is used for cattle grazing.
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Believe. (via paulbrady) This just reminded me: A year ago tonight I was sitting at a restaurant in Montevideo eating…Uruguayan beef. mmmm. |
Very few tourists die on the road,’’ its owner, Tamara Ullrich, told us. “Of course, there was that family of four who went over the edge last year …’’
Sunset (via cluster fotos)
Check out this guy’s photos; he does an impressive job capturing Chile’s beauty. This one brings back memories of looking out of my bedroom window at the cordillera lit up by the setting sun.
Remember when Anthony Bourdain went to Chile and ate a giant hot dog topped with mayo, avocado, sauerkraut, relish, and tomato?
Starting today, you can get one in Midtown.
Try as I may, I just can’t get excited about Chilean food. Hintsa, though, will probably be making a special trip to NYC for this.
Ehh…maybe I’ll swing by if I’m in the area, but I’m with you, Paul; I never really got that excited about Chilean food. I don’t know how anyone can feel good about themselves after gorging on a completo or any sort of vienesa. I never managed to find a decent churrasco, either. That said, I could go for an empanada and some pebre.
because, because, because
The farm is full of ironies, oxymorons, absurdities. The permanent Argentine farmworker who stopped shoveling dirt to read and respond to a text message. The fresh milk to put in the instant coffee. The completely organic, biodynamic (more about what that means later) cow sticking its head into the front seat of the truck while its radio played bad pop music from the U.S. The Swedish high school teacher - we’ll call her Tall Swedish Teacher - working here during her sabbatical who smokes and chews tobacco constantly. Everything happens fast and slow, at the same time. The weeds we pull from the garden become that day’s food for the goats. When we need salad for lunch, I take a bowl from the kitchen to one of the permanent Argentine farmworkers, who cuts lettuce out of the garden. But, of course, that lettuce didn’t come to our lunchtable quickly. The garden was weeded recently. The compost was started a year before it was mixed with the soil. The sheep and cows have to be fed in order to make the manure for the compost. Two out of every three years the field lays fallow. It’s dusk now; the sky is gray disappearing into orange disappearing into purple. A German woman who grew up on a farm, an Englishman fresh from six months teaching English in Bolivia and TST are brushing the cows while the only temporary worker from Argentina is playing guitar along to some ’90s music from the U.S. I don’t recognize.
