Food on the Road: Asado

One of the best parts of our travels is meeting new people. Some are headed in the direction in which we came and others are travelling the same route. By far, my favorite experience with new friends has been the traditional Argentine asado. Asado is both a method of grilling and a social event, and since we've stayed at many campgrounds, we've had access to many grills... and some of the best meat I've ever had.

Here are some pictures of us grilling in El Chalten, Argentina, our second asado experience (the first was in a campground in El Bolsón with a group of Canadians).

Rachel, showing the men how a fire is lit

We had the fortune of meeting a French chef on holiday

Look at that lamb...

10 lbs of lamb (a whole rib), 2 blood sausages, 2 chicken sausages, and some veggies

And to give you an idea of how cold it was that night in the campground... here is a picture of our frosted tent at 9 o'clock the next morning.

Luckily, we learned from our last experience and went into town to rent sleeping bags. Real sleeping bags. We stuffed our own bags into the new ones and slept very comfortably, no need for an emergency blanket this time. And since our bellies were still stuffed with asado in the morning, there was no reason to go very far. After a quick look at the frost we retreated back into the tent and our warm sleeping bags, closed the flap, and slept peacefully for a few more hours.

Cheers,
Tom

Animals Around Puerto Madryn

After our weeks of hiking in the Lake District and Patagonia, Tom and I were looking forward to a change of pace from all of the walking around in the wilderness. We saw some stunning scenery and met some great people, but we were still ready for something new.

We headed up the Atlantic Coast and decided to stay near Puerto Madryn, Argentina for about a week. The biggest draw? Wildlife.

I promised my mom that we'd see some penguins on this trip of ours, but up until Puerto Madryn, we'd had little luck in that regard.  We didn't make it as far south as Ushuaia, the streets of Puerto Natales were home to little more than tourists, and there was not a tuxedo-clad bird in sight around the glaciers of Torres del Paine.

So we rented a car with another couple and headed to the Punta Tombo reserve outside of Puerto Madryn.

And that's where we got to hang out with this guy:

And this one:

And these:

It was molting season, so some of the penguins were in an awkward transition. Sort of like puberty, but with feathers:

Keeping the momentum of our animal sight-seeing kick going, we rented bicycles the next day and headed to Punta Loma (14 km one way) to see sea lions bathing on the shore.

This is me resting, not falling

- R

Food on the Road: Tom's Empanadas

I think it's fair to say that we've eaten approximately 20 pounds of empanadas since we've been in South America. Chicken, beef, sausage-- we've eaten them all. So when Tom suggested that we make our own empanadas to take with us on a big hike, I looked at him like he was crazy. Empanadas are about a buck apiece; we could buy a dozen of them without spending much money or too much time in the kitchen.

Homemade empanadas! Mmm.

Of course, Tom made me eat my words. Unlike the empanadas we've been eating in Chile and Argentina, his were full of healthier proteins like beans and eggs. His empanadas were hearty without being oily. Plus, they made use of our leftovers!

Tom's Empanadas

   Ingredients:

   12 empanada "shells"
   Olive oil

   For Bean Filling

   3 cloves garlic, minced
   1 onion (small), chopped
   1 tablespoon of cumin (or, to taste)
   Black beans (about half a bag)
   1 small butternut squash, cubed
   1 small potato, cubed
   2 carrots, chopped
   1 bullion cub

Travel Mysteries: The Case of the Missing Olive Oil

One of the joys of traveling long-term is the packing and unpacking cycle. Every few days, we're in and out of a new hostel, hotel, or campsite. And when we leave, we often leave something behind.

No, not a piece of our soul or anything so dramatic; we leave behind a piece of our luggage. So far, the damage hasn't been huge, but for two light packers it is noticeable. A sock or two, a water bottle, a few pens, a half-full bottle of cheap wine... and three bottles of olive oil.

That's not a typo. Within the past five weeks, Tom and I have misplaced three bottles of olive oil.

We suspect one was lifted from a hostel kitchen, another forgotten at a campground. And the third? The third has disappeared into some black hole in our packs.

The trail is cold--there are no leads, no suspects... so now, we just wonder. And buy a fourth bottle of olive oil.

-R

25 Hours on a Bus

5 minutes in: We meet a friendly fellow traveler--another American. We compare stories and towns and favorite books. It's nice to have someone new to talk to. Maybe this bus ride won't be so bad.

30 minutes in: The scenery is lovely. Mountains surround us, and the double-decker bus seems so small in comparison. We're in the front row, and it's like watching a movie on the big screen, with no tall heads blocking our view of  the moving pictures. Tom reminds me that while the front row seat has the best views, we're also the first ones out the window if we crash. Yikes.

1 hour in: We get trays with big lunches. Ham and cheese sandwiches, rice, dessert, and beef and potatoes. Looks good. Tastes terrible. I pick at mine and save the condiments and utensils. I feel thrifty and travel-smart-- it's like stealing little bottles of shampoo and pens from hotel rooms.

2 1/2 hours in: We make our first stop. It's a tiny little town, and it looks like life barely exists here. I wonder if the half hour we sit at the bus terminal counts towards the 22 1/5 hours we have left. I hope so.

3 hours in: Lovely. A Cameron Diaz movie. It looks terrible, so I bury myself in a book and try to tune out the stupid noises. It's hard to do when Ashton Kutcher keeps screaming "Vegas!"

4 hours in: The landscape has changed. Instead of mountains, we have flat, flat land. It's all barren, with little bushes and desert plants. Everything is the color of corn-silk or dusty brown. In the distance, we can see lightning striking and mountains, but the big screen is on a wild west loop.

6 hours in: I'm officially ready to get off of the bus. 19 hours to go. 

7 hours in: We're stopped in the middle of the desert, and our bus is boarded by some Argentinian military officials. They search the bus, but apparently they didn't find what they were looking for. We keep driving. This desert is eternal.

8 1/2 hours in: The plastic knife I "stole" this morning has already come in handy since we left our pocket knife in our luggage under the bus. Plastic knives aren't the best at cutting cheese and chorizo. The knife snapped in half, but still works.

10 hours in: We drive by a beautiful, long lake. It's a little eerie. I think it's the first time I've seen a lake this big without any development around it. I feel like we're explorers who've discovered something new. I hope it stays this way.

11 hours in: Who picked the movies for this bus ride? They're all dark and violent. The movies are hard to hear because of the Muzak playing downstairs, but it's kind of amusing to watch Taken with the song Girls Just Want to Have Fun playing in the background.

12 hours in: We make it to the ocean. The city is bustling, and there's a lot more energy here than in the languid mountain towns. It feels funny after such a long journey in the desert. We stop so the bus company can load dinner onto the bus. The look of the lasagna is... unpleasant. Tom devours his. I eat a plum and some bread and cheese instead. 

14 hours in: Trying to sleep. My neck is bent funny and the bus is freezing cold. 

18 hours in: I slept. Where's my blanket?

21 hours in: Our breakfast is delivered. Crackers and jam. For some reason, breakfast comes with a little chocolate cupcake. It's delicious, though not the best way to kick off the day. I supplement it with a banana and some cheese from our rations. 

22 hours in: Another nap, and chit chat with the girl next to us. We try to pick out animals in the desert. We've found a bunch of sheep, some llamas, and neat looking birds. I see a mini-ostrich, but no one else does. Maybe I'm dreaming again.

24 hours in: A glimmer of mountains in the distance. They still look small, though, so we must still have a ways to go.

25 hours in: We're driving through a tiny little village. Tom remarks that one day, this tiny little village may turn into a big town. I laugh, and then our bus slows. And then we notice the bus terminal. 

-R

El Pitriquitrón

The town of El Bolsón is surrounded by what seems like a hundred different peaks. Jagged ridge-lines overlook the town, and snow-covered peaks loom in the distance. It's impossible not to be awed.

We've spent much of our week in El Bolsón climbing up some of the smaller mountains. We visited the Cabeza de Indio (Indian Head), which looks like a man's face carved into the mountain (similar to New Hampshire's Old Man in the Mountain). Cerro Amigo (Friendly Mountain) was a quick 30 minute hike up; we almost felt like we didn't deserve to see the awesome views of the mountains and town below.

We decided to ask the local experts about the best hike in the entire town. Their answer? "Todos" (all). Hmm. "So what's the best of the best?" 

And they pointed 2,284 meters into the sky to here:

"Cool," we said. "What's it called?"

"El Pitriquitrón."

"And where's the trail?"

"That way." Pointing.

So that's where we decided to hike that day.

Tom pointing to the wrong mountain.

We ventured out on Monday, in the late afternoon.

Food on the Road: Black Bean Soup

We've only been traveling for a few weeks, but we've already learned that food on the road is a bit of a balancing act. It's much easier to eat meals out at a restaurant, and it's a neat way to get a feel for a culture and it's cuisine. But it's also expensive, and not the healthiest way to live!

To keep our costs (and health) in control, we're trying to cook a few meals each week. Thankfully, most hostels have kitchens available for guests to use. Often they're not the fanciest of kitchens (they often lack any kind of sophisticated cooking tools like, say, ovens or blenders), but they usually have the basic tools we need to make a meal for ourselves.

We're trying to make the most of our "hostel-cooked" meals. Ideally, our meals will be:

1. Filling. Tom gets cranky when he's hungry.

2. Relatively healthy. Right now we're in the land of (amazing) beef and red wine, so ideally these meals will give usa dose or two of veggies.

3. Inexpensive.
4. Simple and pretty quick to make. We don't want to spend our whole trip sitting in a kitchen!

We'd also like to make use of leftovers, so that we don't waste food and we don't have to lug ingredients around the world!

So, with that overly-thorough introduction, here's our first recipe:

   Black Bean Soup

  

Black bean soup. Served with wine.

   Ingredients:

   4 cloves garlic, minced
   1 onion (small), chopped
   1/2 red pepper, chopped
   1/2 green pepper, chopped
   1 carrot, chopped
   2 tablespoons of cumin (or, to taste)
   2 tablespoons of olive oil
   Small chunk of beef
   Black beans (about half a bag)
   Diced tomatos (half a can)
   2 bullion cubes

   For garnish:

   1 avocado
   Bunch of greens (I think we used arugula)
   Sour cream or yogurt (we used Doble Crema, and we're still  not sure what it is!)

   Directions:

   Step 1 - Soak the beans for a long time (we soaked them for about 24 hours.) Then, boil the beans in a pot of water with the two bullion cubes (we used enough water to cover the beans, plus another inch or so.)

   Step 2 - While the beans are boiling, chop up all of the vegetables. Saute them in a small pot with olive oil and a bit of cumin.

   Step 3 - Cut up the beef into bite-sized pieces, then brown them in a small pan.

   Step 4 - Once the beans are soft enough to eat, add in the vegetables, beef and tomatoes. Simmer 5-10 minutes, then serve. Add garnish to taste. 

This meal was a perfect conclusion to a long day of hiking in sprinkling rain. The hike was gorgeous, but the cool, damp air left us craving a warm fire and a big bowl of stew. This definitely fit the bill. And, it hit all of our four requirements.

Tom, chowing down.

We'll definitely make some version of this stew again. It's pretty inexpensive and easy to make. It doesn't need any fancy equipment-- the only thing it needs is time. 

Share some recipes with us in the comments! And if you have any ideas on how to make this recipe tastier, cheaper or easier, please let us know!

-R

El Bolsón, Argentina

Two hours South of Bariloche along Route 40 is the town of El Bolsón where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid lived for a few years in the early 1900's and where hippies flocked in the 1970's to bask in the positive ions that purportedly emanate from surrounding peaks. The town has only a few paved roads, but the park in the center is enormous. Three times a week the half-moon street of the park invites the locals to set up shop and sell their goods. Everything is hand-made, from cutting boards to lucky gnome dolls to wheels of cheese.

A local artisan making a bowl in the shape of a leaf

A blurry shot of Rachel dancing in the streets on the night of our arrival

We stayed at Hostel Pehuenia, and we highly recommend it for anyone passing through the area. The couple that runs the hostel live in the house and have two kids, dogs, and plum trees in the backyard which they use to make the jams for breakfast. They were extremely nice and accommodating.

Our Hostel

And here is a dog that lives at the hostel. He is a riot. I never actually saw him in any other position but this.

On a rainy day, the hostel owner took us for a ride and told us the history of his town.  Despite the rain, we decided to get out on a mountain peak and walk around a bit instead of driving home. Up the hill a short way was a rock face that the locals call the Head of the Indian. After that, we tried looking for the Hidden Waterfall. That waterfall was pretty well hidden, too, because we got lost. To our credit, the only signs we saw were arrows on trees that pointed in both directions. Knowing the direction from which we'd come, we always chose the opposite... and headed two hours in the wrong direction.

Here are some pictures from that very wet day:

Clearly marked trails...

Rachel with the Indian Head in the background

Finally, at the end of the day, a sign...

Originally, we were only going to stay in town for three nights, but we enjoyed it so much and met such nice people that we stayed for a week. Our next part of the trip was Cerro Piltriquitron, a two-day hike to a 2,284 meter summit that looks down not only on El Bolsón, but on the surrounding mountains of both Argentina and Chile. The views were incredible.

More on that later, though.

Cheers,

Tom