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.

We left Montevideo yesterday morning and took the Buquebus ferry about three hours to Buenos Aires, Argentina. It was a pretty swift and easy boat ride out. We cleared security, had two bags checked, and got on a large ferry with huge windows and were welcomed on board with champagne. Who would have thought that a three-hour ferry ride along the Rio de la Plata would not only bring you to a different city, but also a different country.

Once we arrived in Buenos Aires and dropped off our bags, given it was already mid-afternoon, we were all starving and needed something to eat desperately, so Chris looked up options that were close by to our hotel. We ended up going to a spot called the New Brighton. Although the restaurant in its current iteration has been open only since 2022, it used to be a gentleman’s outfitter in the early 1900s. In the 1940s, it changed into a restaurant, which eventually closed down. Finally, in 2022, it reopened in the same spot and added “new” to its name to differentiate it from the previous iteration of the restaurant. It’s a very posh restaurant, with lots of dark wood, mirrors, glass, and stained glass throughout and on its ceiling. I was surprised when they had a high chair for Pookster, as I had previously read that finding high chairs in Buenos Aires restaurants might be challenging. We ordered three pasta dishes and shared a bottle of local Malbec, also for a steal. The best pasta dish was most definitely the pesto spaghetti, as the pesto tasted extremely bright and fresh and did not go light on the garlic, which I loved.

The added bonus of this restaurant is during the time we were there, they had live music being performed. Luciano, a pianist who specializes in Disney music, was playing while we were there, which really gave a sweet old-world touch to the place. As we were leaving, Kaia wandered over to the piano and pressed a bunch of the keys on the keyboard. Luciano didn’t mind, and instead, he actually humored her and invited her to stand by him as he played. He tried to speak with me, but it was a bit challenging because a) I don’t speak Spanish and b) Argentine Spanish is NOT like the Mexican Spanish I am so used to hearing. He did tell me that he wanted to play Frozen songs for Kaia, which was very sweet. Kaia was obsessed with the piano and did not want to leave, but alas, I had to pull her away eventually as there was no way the restaurant was going to let us live there.

I didn’t initially think that the New Brighton would be kid-friendly, but in the end, it worked out well for us, and Kaia loved the piano and the pianist.

In general while we’ve been together, Chris and I have always eaten a relatively early dinner. If we went out to eat on a Friday night after work, we would usually eat dinner at around 6pm. If Chris had it his way since the beginning, we would probably eat dinner at around 4:30-5pm every night. So when we had a baby and had to start catering to her (solids) eating schedule, it worked out pretty well that she would start eating her dinner sometime between 5-6pm. It wasn’t some abrupt change for us since we were never late-night diners, anyway. The most we’d ever semi-embraced later dining was while we were in Spain in November 2016, when most restaurants didn’t open until 7 or 8pm, and we made a few dinner reservations between 7:30-8:30pm. And whenever we did that, we always knew who was actually Spanish (the ones that rolled in somewhere between 9-11pm) and who were the international tourists (during that first seating between 7:30-8:30, you always heard English and languages other than Spanish spoken).

So being in Uruguay was a reminder of eating on “Latin time.” And when I researched our trip, I found out that, no, babies and kids in these Latin American countries do NOT eat at 8 or 10pm, but they instead get what we call an “afternoon tea” of small bites and snacks as their meal before the adults had their later night meals. And this is how travelers to Latin America who were not used to eating this late would tide not only their children over, but themselves. But that afternoon tea was typically done in little cafes and at home, not at restaurants. So for restaurant eating, you had to figure it out on your own.

Unfortunately, this meant that a lot of the restaurants on my list were not doable with a toddler. But we did randomly find some gems along the way that did accommodate us. Chris found a corner tapas spot called Demorondanga, which allowed us to sit and enjoy drinks at 6pm, and opened their open kitchen to us to order at around 7pm, which is quite early for Montevideo. As I read (and as some of my followers on Instagram let me know), people meeting at 8pm here is usually a weeknight thing, and still considered relatively early. The majority of young-ish people will meet for drinks and dinner between 10-11 on weekends. I read these responses and thought, wow, I guess even in my 20s, I would not have tolerated eating that late — I’d be SO hungry!

We were grateful for this spot, though, because they let us sit and have drinks. Each of our drinks came with a little snack, which also helped to tide us over. And miraculously, even though there was no high chair and we didn’t give her any screen time, Kaia was pretty content and settled the entire time. She didn’t fuss or whine or try to run around anywhere.

I joked with Chris and told him that we’ve always been like senior citizens in our eating habits since we eat dinner so early. But he insisted it wasn’t because we were old, but rather because we woke up early and started our day earlier than most people in Latin America. I have no idea what time people typically wake up in Uruguay, so I have no data to back that up. But regardless, I think there’s enough data to show that spacing the time that you eat your last meal of the day at least four hours before you go to bed is better for your health than eating just before you go to sleep. It also makes logical sense because you’re giving your body time to adequately digest all the food you just ate. So I’m still happy to eat an early dinner regardless of where I am in the world if I am able to.

When we originally planned this trip, Santiago and Buenos Aires were the two main destinations we were going to visit. But after a closer look on the map, Chris realized that we could probably add in one additional city (and country) to the itinerary, especially given we’d be in South America for about two weeks: Montevideo, Uruguay. Uruguay is South America’s second smallest country, with about 3.44 million people (the smallest country in South America is Suriname). Montevideo is about a three-hour ferry ride from Buenos Aires, so Chris made a quick decision to add a ferry ride to our trip! So instead of flying from Santiago to Buenos Aires, we flew from Santiago to Montevideo via LATAM, then will take a Buquebus ferry from Montevideo to Buenos Aires for the last segment of our trip.

I’m American, so I think it goes without saying that I didn’t know much about Uruguay. I knew it was a small country, that people speak Spanish here, and… that was about it. Given the geography, it’s easy to see and understand how Uruguay can get completely overlooked from a tourist standpoint in South America, especially given it’s flanked by the two largest countries in the continent: Brazil and Argentina. International tourists love Brazil for endless reasons, from the mix of beaches, forest, and nightlife in Rio, to the excitement and glitz of its biggest celebration of the year, Carnaval. And for Argentina, its capital city Buenos Aires has been known as the “Paris of South America” given how European and cosmopolitan it is. So when you have all those exciting elements of larger countries that surround Uruguay, it’s easy to overlook Uruguay. But as I did more research, I realized that Uruguay has a lot of the things that make Brazil and Argentina so popular and loved: the gorgeous beaches, the incredible wine culture, and the European feel and vibe (and apparently, Uruguay has a Carnaval that is the second largest after Brazil!).

Regarding the wine in Uruguay, wine production was started in the country in the late 1800s by Italian and Spanish immigrants. Similar to how in Chile, enjoying bottles seems to be more the norm than ordering a glass of wine at a restaurant, Uruguay also enjoys imbibing. And given that most of the wineries here are small, family-owned establishments, I think I’d be safe to assume that the wine here is likely very high quality and made with love and passion.

After we dropped off our bags at our hotel yesterday around midday, we went to Es Mercat, a seafood restaurant close to Mercado del Puerto, and ordered our first Uruguayan bottle of red wine: a Garzon Tannat Reserva 2022. Tannat is a red wine grape, historically grown in the southwest of France, but is now one of the most prominent grapes in Uruguay. Funnily enough, tannat is considered Uruguay’s national grape (who would have known that countries have national grapes as a thing)! The wine was very easy to drink, a bit on the lighter side and quite fruity. Although we had a seafood meal, the wine somehow did not detract from the food and was delicious on its own.

For food at Es Mercat, we ordered the langoustines sautéed with garlic, the grilled merluza negra (also known as Chilean sea bass, or Patagonian toothfish), and the pesca bahia made with the abadejo fish, which is local and like a local white pollack fish. The chef-owner, Facundo, was extremely hospitable from the moment we entered the restaurant. He guided us through the menu, written by hand on chalk boards, and gave us advice based on what we like to eat We also had some fun chats about Uruguay, wine and food culture, and eating in general in Uruguay. He was quite modest about both himself, the restaurant, and Uruguayan cuisine in general: “Uruguayan food isn’t that complicated. We just grill everything. That’s it,” he said with a half smile and shrug. The langoustines were extremely garlicky with a Spanish-like paprika butter sauce that I almost licked up to get the last drops. The pesca bahia was prepared Brazilian style in a luscious, creamy stew, and the merluza negra was likely the best fish I’ve eaten in the last year. It was so unbelievably buttery and flaky until the very last bite. Kaia was obsessed and ate a ton of the merluza negra during this meal; she barely even looked at the pesca bahia.

It was funny that Chris chose this seafood restaurant as our first meal in Uruguay, a country that is known for its high red meat consumption, just like its neighbor Argentina. It’s been said that the average Uruguayan eats about 220 pounds of red meat in a year, but only 15 pounds of fish. Given this, Es Mercat tends to be a bit more popular with tourists and expats; Facundo says that he and his father (they both run two restaurants) have a lot of connections with the Embassy and meet with diplomats often. So if we would anticipate eating more red meat on average during this trip, it would probably be a good start to begin on the lighter side with seafood and then work our way from there. Needless to say, Es Mercat was beyond delicious, and I was obsessed with the entire meal, from the starter to the wine. It was not a cheap meal by Uruguayan standards, but it was more than worth it for the quality and quantity of food, as well as the exceptional and personalized service we got.

A funny side story is that the power suddenly went off in the middle of our meal, so Facundo just came over and spoke with us for part of that time. No big deal, no panic, no fuss. It’s just another day dealing with another challenge running a restaurant. You can definitely sense the laid-back vibe of Uruguay here.

When doing research for our trip, all I could read was how child-friendly countries like Chile and Uruguay were. There was a blurb I read in a blog that said something like, “In Chile, children are not a nuisance; they are part of our family and thus our lives. Thus, they go everywhere and anywhere with us.” In Chile almost immediately, we saw children of all ages literally everywhere. We saw large families walking on the streets together, children giggling and playing, and lots of large, colorful playgrounds across neighborhoods. Near our hotel, there was this massive park called Parque Centro where, around 5-6pm, we saw endless families and children everywhere. There was a huge grass area with lots of tables where families could picnic while comfortably seated, with overhead covers to protect from the sun. There were multiple play structures in all colors of the rainbow that catered to different age groups and stages of development. The one that we personally enjoyed the most was an adult-toddler swing: the adult and toddler face each other seated, and they swing together! Kaia’s gotten mad at swings in the last year, but in the last couple of months, she has slowly re-warmed to them. We have a hunch it’s because she hates feeling contained and stuck, much preferring to be free to roam around. So when we first placed her in it, she kicked and yelled… until a few swings passed, and she realized that yes, this WAS actually fun! She giggled with glee each time we swung. It was enjoyable to see a family friendly environment in most places that we visited in Santiago and the surrounds.

We also noticed that businesses seemed more comfortable letting children roam around. In our hotel breakfast area, there’s a walkway that connects to a fine-dining type establishment that shares the same kitchen as the hotel breakfast area. Kaia, being cheeky as always, kept running away from us and trying to hide in that area. Multiple staff members saw this on many occasions, but none of them said anything to us. Instead, they smiled and laughed and let us keep going. No one scolded me or suggested that I remove my child. My child was just allowed to be that — a child. It actually felt really nice and less restrictive. I always feel like in the U.S., I have to have a leash on Kaia when in places like restaurants, but not here.

A lot gets me excited about food. But I think that in the food world, when you push pastries aside, fruit gets me really, really excited, especially tropical fruit. Sometimes, I get sad when I think about all the fruit that’s considered “normal” in the U.S., like apples, bananas, and oranges, when there’s such a vast variety of fruit across the world that the average American would never even fathom. And even within the banana world, there are over 600+ varieties (most found in India) that are far more complex in both texture and taste that they just make the Cavendish banana (that’s your mainstream supermarket banana variety) seem blander than bland. I never rank countries, but I will say that of all the places we have visited, Colombia was definitely the biggest eye-opener when it came to the sheer variety of exotic fruits that exist in the world. I still reminisce about all the incredible fruit we ate there and all the different textures, tastes, and colors.

Unfortunately, we came in the fruit low season to Chile, which meant that the prized fruit (for me) that is quite “normal” here in Chile, the cherimoya, was not in season. During high season in Chile, you can find cherimoyas for the equivalent of a couple of USD per kilo. But as we browsed the fresh food markets in Santiago, they were nowhere to be found. I asked a fruit vendor, and they told us that cherimoyas are not available until November or December.

On the other hand, what I did find that we enjoy were fresh passion fruit (maracuya) and pomegranates. The pomegranates were huge and slightly cheaper than the ones we’d buy during our autumns in New York. And the passion fruits… wee, the passion fruits were fat, fragrant, and CHEAP. You can get a pound of passion fruit for the equivalent of $1 USD. I was so excited! We didn’t have too much time left in Chile, so I only bought four fat passion fruit to share. Kaia ended up not remembering it and refused to try it, but that just meant more for the two of us to eat.

I’d wash the passion fruit in our hotel bathroom and bring them down to breakfast to cut. And these were at their peak, with pulp that was bright orange, thick, and extremely fragrant and sweet, with a good hit of tartness. The pulp was almost syrupy thick! They were nearly FILLED with pulp, unlike some previous sadder ones we’d gotten that only had a little bit, while the shell was much larger. We definitely scored big with these babies.

So while we didn’t get to enjoy fresh cherimoyas, we did get to have cherimoya juice, and we also got some of the best passion fruits of our lives. And the pomegranate was also quite perfect, with almost all the seeds perfect and plump. We shared with Kaia, but let’s be honest… she definitely ate the majority of this heavy pomegranate and kept demanding more and more. So really, she reluctantly shared with us!

Being in the U.S., I am used to seeing high prices for wine in restaurants. At even casual restaurants, you can expect to spend somewhere between $8-20 for a glass of wine. If you want a bottle, you’d be lucky to get one for less than $50. If you got that same bottle at your local wine shop, it would likely be somewhere between $8-20. But that’s the price (markup) you pay for enjoying a bottle while dining out, and you just accept it. Bottles are pricey, so it’s more common here to order wine by the glass, if you choose to have wine at all. You’ll often see a longer list of wines by the glass, and then a smaller selection of wines by the bottle. Or, if you’re at a place that has a sommelier, you may have a completely separate menu for wine that has long lists of wine by the bottle.

So when we first went out in Santiago, I was a bit surprised when I noticed that when we were given wine lists, the prices listed… were for the bottle. You’d have a long list of about 10-20 Chilean wine bottles with extremely reasonable (under $20 USD) prices noted next to them. And then, on the bottom of the list, you’d see one or two “copa” (glass) options and their prices. The prices for the glasses were usually somewhere between $4-7. But when you have bottle options that are between $10-20, it would actually be a better value to just get the full bottle. Even if you aren’t good at math, you can see the bottle price works out better. So just live a little and get the freaking bottle!

Chileans enjoy their wine. They enjoy their company with wine. And so, given that, they will order the bottle and enjoy it. Plus, it’s relatively affordable to do so (I’d assume it’s like this because we’re closer to the source, wine is just part of their culture, and there are likely far fewer middle men involved). And while we’re here, we’ll enjoy more bottles, much to Chris’s excitment. I haven’t been drinking much at all, barely a drink a week, if even that, since I started consciously trying to lose weight back in September of last year (weight I somehow gained after weaning from breastfeeding; the fun never ends in postpartum, does it…?! It made me wonder: when does “postpartum” ever end, if ever..?). So this will be a temporary change for me. So while in South America, I will imbibe and enjoy!