Only in Buenos Aires…

My expectations of Irish pubs were lowered a bit after this weekend. We went to a Pub titled Mathias’ which advertised live Irish music on Fridays, squished between Highland Pipes on Thursdays and Karaoke on Saturdays. I went in expecting a Session, based on my previous experiences in Irish pubs in the states. However, we walked in and there was no sign of a fiddle, nor flute, bohdrahn, or tin whistle. The corner was set up with electric guitars, bass and drums.

Here in Buenos Aires, “live Irish music” means a U2 cover band. At least that’s what it looks like now, we plan on trying again next week. However, live music was pretty damn awesome to drink to, and it was English, with lyrics we new. Some of us got more excited than others. Sus captured some of Ryan’s antics.



We had dinner tonight at a restaurant titled Estilo Criollo which translates roughly to “Fucking Fantastic.” Regardless of the truth of that last statement in a linguistic sense, the meaning remains. It was probably the best food, wine and desert I’ve eaten yet. Sus and I split a bottle of Malbec, a red wine made from grapes grown down here. I can’t describe it and do it justice, but it was dark, and thick and rich. I had Medallones de lomo con pancetta, beef medallions wrapped in Italian bacon, there were potatoes, but I didn’t notice them. Then there was mousse. We all agreed that had this been a milkshake, regardless of who you were or your sexual orientation, this would have brought you to the yard. The desserts went flying around the table, thirteen people sharing and critiquing each, there was bread pudding, flan, some sort of chocolate volcano was popular, though it was more of a chocolate caldera. This was a meal that has surpassed my fading memories of the dinner I had on top of the Stratosphere in Las Vegas in 2005.