I took a quick look at the weather forecast for San Francisco during the 1.5 weeks we’ll be there, starting Saturday. And it looked as pathetic as I thought it would: it’s pretty much 60s F the entire time we are there, with a couple days hovering at around 70-71 F as a high. Of course, when we’re in Sacramento, the temperatures will be in the mid to high 80s, as expected. But it’s pretty annoying to think that we’re leaving a real summer in New York to a winter in San Francisco. I have always hated wearing layers, which is what is needed when you are in San Francisco.

Chris had panic bought all these cheap shorts and t-shirts for Kaia during her potty training intensive phase so that she would not ruin any of her nicer clothes. But with temperatures in the 60s, I’m thinking we may actually need to put her in real pants. And because we’ll only be at my parents’ house for the weekends, that means we won’t have easy access to laundry. So what I’m likely going to do is… pack literally every pair of pants that still fit her and hope for the damn best. And also take some of my parents’ laundry detergent in a small container for accidents for on-the-go-cleaning. What fun awaits!

We arrived back in New York yesterday morning after an overnight flight from Buenos Aires. The flight was scheduled for about 10.5 hours, but I think the actual flight time was closer to 9.5 Although we have not done a lot of flying back and forth between South America, I can say that one of the biggest benefits of flying down there and back is that we don’t have a huge time zone adjustment. Usually, when you fly 9-12 hours on a plane, you can expect to either cross the international date line (ugh, usually the longest body clock/time adjustment) or be in a much different time zone. On this trip, we’ve only ever had to adjust by an hour at most. This also made it much easier to manage Pookster and her sleep, as she never really needed to “adjust.” Oftentimes when I chat with other parents of young children, they always complain and say that they are terrified of dealing with a time zone difference with their babies/toddlers and they don’t want to waste an entire week adjusting to the new time zone. Well, here’s one way to get out of it: fly from the U.S. down to a South American country, stat!

Argentine beef is world renowned. The beautiful image we have in our heads of cows in Argentina is that they graze freely on the vast Pampas (fertile Argentine grass-covered plains) and live a happy, idyllic life before eventually becoming your steak dinner. Cattles were first brought to Argentina back in the 1530s by Spanish conquistadors. Due to the geography of the Pampas and what was then a small national market, the cattle multiplied rapidly, and so started the Argentine beef market.

A friend’s husband visited Argentina about two decades ago and still talks about how the beef he ate while in Argentina was the best steak of his life. He said he couldn’t describe what made it tastier, but that he always held it in high regard. Unfortunately, the beef we have enjoyed while here is likely very different from the beef he had over 20 years ago while visiting Buenos Aires. Since the mid-2000s, feed lots have grown exponentially in Argentina due to government subsidies aimed at increasing beef production to meet the growing demand, both domestically and internationally. With feed lots, they are exactly what you would imagine they are based on their name: you line up hundreds, if not thousands, of cows in cramped, tight quarters, and constantly feed them endless grain and soy until they plump up and mature enough to be slaughtered for meat. They are basically “the way” cows are raised in the U.S. and even in Europe for human consumption. But for the longest time, Argentina resisted them because they were particular about their beef’s taste and texture. In the end, with government subsidies, it became hard for farmers to say no and continue raising cows the traditional Argentine way.

If cows aren’t moving the same or eating the same as they were pre-feed lots, it would be easy to guess that the meat no longer tastes or feels the same. Beef from grass-fed cows generally will have a more intense flavor and a different texture, which makes sense because you are what you eat, and, well, we are what we eat and what they eat.

It made me sad to read this before our trip, but I figured we would still inevitably eat beef and would take what we could get. We had beef on a number of occasions in Buenos Aires, including at the all-you-can-eat Siga La Vaca in Puerto Madero, as well as during our last dinner at Dandy Grill.

Siga La Vaca was quite a value meal, as it’s known to be an all-you-can-eat parrilla experience. Adults eat for about 25,900 pesos, while kids under 7 are free (yet they still get a free drink — we chose bottled water — and their own dessert!!). This price includes your choice of beverage as well as one dessert per person. We told our server that we’d like a glass of red wine each. She came back with an entire bottle of Malbec, which she uncorked and poured into glasses for us! I was pretty shocked and was wondering if we’d get a bill for a bottle later, but that never came.

Siga La Vaca has plenty of prepared foods, ranging from breaded, fried milanesa to various pastas, rices, and salads. But the real draw here is grilled meat. They have various cuts of beef, chicken, and pork (plus their intestines), along with diagrams of all three animals so you know what you are getting when you go to the grill counter. We got a few different cuts, ranging from strip steak (bife angosto) to sirloin (bife de lomo), and several cuts of chicken and pork. I will say that the beef is notably chewier than back in the U.S. It’s true what they say: Argentine beef just has more of a bite, and that’s an acquired taste/texture if you are used to very tender meat. It was enjoyable, especially with the red-hued chimichurri sauce they gave us. I’m not sure what put this meal (and the bargain price we paid) more over the top: the fact that we had unlimited beef, an entire bottle of wine included in our meal cost, or the three generous desserts we got. There were a number of options, and in the end, we chose the chocolate mousse/ice cream, Argentine bread pudding (budin de pan), and flan. Unfortunately for Pookster, we didn’t let her eat an entire dessert on her own, but she definitely had her sugar fix that evening…. if not for the rest of the year.

While I loved the flan (and it was exactly as I imagined it, since I’ve eaten and made quite a bit of flan in my life to date), I will say that the budin de pan was not what I expected at all, but in a good and tasty way. Argentines do not make bread pudding the way we do in the U.S. or Australia. Yes, the core of it is still the same: you take stale (usually white) bread, milk, eggs, and a sweetener, but the execution and presentation is totally different. In the U.S., bread pudding would usually be made individually served in little ramekins/cups or in a large sheet/tray and then sliced per person. The presentation is very rustic or “homemade” in that it doesn’t have a fancy presentation. To contrast, at restaurants or bakeries/cafes in Buenos Aires, bread puddings are served shaped almost exactly like mini flans, unmolded onto a plate, with its caramel oozing down its sides. When the server brought our desserts to the table, initially, I wasn’t actually sure which was the flan and which was the budin de pan. Budin de pan has a lighter but tighter texture because the bread is either cubed much smaller than the average bread pudding in the U.S., or in some cases, the bread is completely blitzed to the point of bread crumbs. In that sense, it really does taken on a pudding like texture. This is how the budin de pan was at Siga La Vaca. It was really delicious with a sweet caramelized sugar top that was slightly crunchy, yet continued to provocatively ooze down onto the side.

At Dandy Grill for our last dinner in Argentina before heading home, we ordered the ojo de bife (the rib eye, which actually is not that popular of a steak cut here in Argentina). It was delicious and juicy, but definitely felt more lean and chewy than the average ribeye you’d order back in the U.S. What I’d say were the standouts at Dandy Grill were a) the cocktails — the fresco de maracuya and the pisco sour (why not while still in South America?) were just sweet and tart enough, and very refreshing; and b) holy crap, the DESSERTS. We ordered the tiramisu and the merengata, an Argentine dessert made of chopped meringue, dulce de leche (of course), whipped cream, mixed berries, and vanilla ice cream. Both servings were far larger than we anticipated, and both were a dessert lover’s dream. This tiramisu was ethereally light – you could barely even detect any lady fingers in there. It wasn’t too sweet and had a really nice balance of sweet, creamy, and a tad bit bitter with the coffee liqueur flavor throughout and the generous dusting of cocoa powder on top. This was likely the best and most impressive tiramisu I’ve had in my life to date. No photo could do this tiramisu justice. I tried to photograph it at different angles, but the photo was just incapable of capturing the taste and texture of this perfect tiramisu. The merengata was also incredible and something I’d order again if I could. I normally do not love meringues, but I thought we’d order this since it’s unique to Argentina, and we’d never heard of it before. It was a good choice: this meringue didn’t have that strange, dry mouth feel I usually associate with meringues and just melted in my mouth after a tiny crunch in each bite. The combination of dulce de leche, whipped cream, berries, and ice cream complemented the meringue perfectly. I was totally obsessed with these desserts and will likely still be thinking about them long after we return home.

Living in the U.S., I hear Spanish spoken all the time. I hear it on the streets, in restaurants, among the building staff where I live. A lot of Spanish words are also just incorporated into our everyday vernacular. For example, people in the U.S. do not call coriander “coriander.” We call it “cilantro.” You don’t see the word “cilantro” in grocery stores in Australia, the U.K., or India, though. You see it called “coriander.” That’s because “cilantro” is a Spanish word. Although I don’t know or speak Spanish, I can understand and say a number of things, like greetings, thank you, how to ask where the bathroom is, asking how much something costs, for a bill, tip, lots of objects and foods, etc. I also understand contextually when people are asking me questions. The most common question I will get asked when traveling is, “Where are you from?” In Mexican Spanish, you would say this as, “donde estas?” When we got asked this question while traveling in Mexico and Colombia, I always knew what was being asked, and I always replied, “Estados Unidos” (United States). When people have asked me this, multiple times in Spanish, on this trip, whether it was in Chile, Uruguay, or Argentina, I had no freaking clue what they asked. In Argentina, I have a feeling they asked, “De donde eres?” But between their accent, tones, and flow of words, I just couldn’t make out what they said until they asked me in English. I felt a bit dumb, especially since these are basic questions that someone who is exposed to Spanish should be able to understand.

Like how English doesn’t sound the same in Australia vs. New Zealand, vs. the UK vs. the U.S., Spanish is also not the same. There are phrases and ways of saying things that are not the same. There are also entirely different words used for the same thing. I was reading that for a selection of Argentine pastries (that have roots in Europe, not surprisingly), they have completely renamed them to terms that are only used in Argentina because “Argentines like to think they’re different,” one tongue-in-cheek post on Reddit said. They will recognize what you are asking for if you ask for a profiterole, but they will actually call them bombas (bombs) and be labeled as such. In Argentina, pastries are called “fracturas,” while in Uruguay, they are called “bizcochos.” When we moved on from Chile to Uruguay, I noticed immediately that the Spanish and accents were quite different. It’s interesting to think about how language changes and morphs, and how our understanding of it changes, as well.

One of the things that surprised me about Montevideo was how quiet it was. Given it’s the capital city of Uruguay and is the largest populated city of the country, I just expected to see more foot traffic while walking around. But it didn’t seem to matter whether it was 10am or 1pm or 6pm. We rarely saw any crowded streets or hustle and bustle, even in the heart of the city by Independence Square. In many well known areas, we’d oftentimes be the only ones walking on the streets. Sometimes, it just felt eerily quiet. Where is everyone? I’d wonder. We were walking by all these different homes, yet not many people were coming out. Were they just sleeping in? I looked up a few other travel blogs that confirmed that this wasn’t just me. The one time we did see a lot of people was during the Sunday market during our trip, and that was really it. We’d walk in popular areas and then eventually find people tucked away at little cafes and library cafes, quietly chatting, drinking coffee and mate.

In Buenos Aires, it was just as bustling as I imagined. Of course, it’s an unfair comparison given that Buenos Aires has a huge international and domestic tourist culture unlike Montevideo, but also just based on the size of both cities (and their respective countries): The entire country of Uruguay has a population of about 3.44 million. Montevideo has a population of 1.3 million. To contrast this, Argentina has a population of 46.2 million, and the Buenos Aires metro area’s population is 15.3 million. Given the large metro area of Buenos Aires, you’d just expect to see people literally everywhere at all hours of the day. But we came from quiet, quaint Montevideo with its cute hidden cafes to the tourist hawkers and commotion of Buenos Aires, and it was just a very stark contrast for me. I can see how Montevideo would have a really high quality of life and feel very safe for many (Uruguay ranks as the safest country in all of South America!), but being a city girl, I think I’d crave the activity and noise of Buenos Aires.