I’m starting this post off on a somber note. The image you see is a memorial to a 21-year old university student who protested against the regime in the 1970’s. He, and thousands like him, were tortured and murdered by the government. This young man’s body was dumped here, at the site of this marker, at the corner of Malabia and Niceto Vega, in Palermo Soho. We encounter these memorial plaques all over the city as we explore the surroundings. I have to admit that they are easily overlooked in the cacophony that is Buenos Aires. I realize that we walked past or even over this monument, daily, for over a week, and never noticed it until the day someone placed some flowers on it, anchoring them with a broken piece of tile and a stone. The vast majority of those responsible for these killings have never been charged and continue to live and work among those who lost their loved ones in the struggle against an oppressive regime.We had dinner at an unusual Asian restaurant in Palermo Soho called Niño Gordo (which translates to “small child”). There are three dining areas. Above is the main room. We were surprised by several things. The lighting is red. The tables in the main dining room, above, have a shelf below the table top, so it’s impossible to cross your legs.This is the adjacent room, where we were seated. It’s not immediately obvious, but the tables are incredibly low; about two feet high. So you sit, quite uncomfortably, like you are in kindergarten, with your knees scraping the underside of the table. It was hilarious, however, when it came time to leave. After almost two hours sitting so low, we felt like Gulliver when we stood up. The third dining area, by the way, is a long counter (white light!), but the heat from the kitchen is enough to cook you alive. Meanwhile the menu, which is meant for sharing, looked very strange, but everything was surprisingly good. Excellent, actually.Our friends Adriana and Carlos took us out to the delta in their speedboat one day. The delta is a curious place; land created by the continuous deposits of silt; secured by trees and plants; inter-woven with tributaries of various rivers that meet to form the broad Rio de la Plata. The tributaries meander through jungle-like environs. I would be reminded of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, but it was a bright and sunny day.The brown, silty tributaries are dotted with small cabins, here and there, on land that is otherwise in question. After all, when someone plants wooden posts into the water and builds a cabin, is it property? Whose “land” is it?
Eventually we all became hungry and Carlos aimed toward a restaurant they knew, which was interesting, considering that we appeared to be in the middle of nowhere; in a flooded, lush semi-tropical jungle, that is laced with tributaries. As it turned out, the restaurant was closed. Fortunately, we encountered El Camoati. Excellent food, good service and a perfect venue on a perfect day. See the location HERE.
Carlos and Sol, their daughter, at Casa B, as they call their new adventure. Adriana and Carlos purchased a grand old city house, just a couple of blocks from their house in San Isidro. After months of extensive renovation, the work is finished and the results are impressive. It will serve as offices for Sol’s architectural practice; for Adriana’s studio and shop; and, they intend to hold art exhibits and rent space for special events. And that doesn’t mention the large pottery making studio in the back!Adriana’s grandfather owned a tile manufacturing company “back in the day.” It stood where the Alto Palermo shopping mall is situated today in Buenos Aires. She inherited a collection of tile molds that are on display at Casa B. The molds are intricately fashioned from metal; each one different from the next. Different colors of cement (?) are poured into the spaces separated by metal strips and together make an elaborate patter. The floor tiles in the following photo were made in such forms.Inspired by the molds, I photographed each one of the tile forms. Equipped only with my Canon G7X Mark II and a tiny, collapsible tripod, I set up an impromptu studio in the entry hall of Casa B. I should mention that Carlos followed in Adriana’s grandfather’s footsteps and founded his own tile manufacturing company.This is a pair of grand, old townhouses on Av. Liberator, a couple blocks from Adriana and Carlos’ house.The window of one of the townhouses was open, so I couldn’t restrain myself from taking a photo.A quiet side street near downtown San Isidro.Small shops, like this one and the several that follow, remain common in San Isidro, Buenos Aires and the surrounding towns. It gives me pause to consider what big box stores have done to the neighborhoods and small towns in the U.S. An entire way of life has been destroyed and already forgotten.I’m jealous to find a place like this in an otherwise residential neighborhood. Where we live, zoning prohibits mixing retail/commercial in residential areas. We are the poorer for it. In Chicago, the corner grocery stores and taverns were ubiquitous when I was a child. Today they are mostly all gone or re-purposed into homes.
We’re not dog people, but Maria’s new dog, Fina, won our hearts.This photo is of the kitchen floor in our airbnb. Tiles like these are made in molds, as I described above. Stare at this pattern for a while to give your eye and brain muscles some exercise.That’s our friend Alejandra, an architect and artist, at dinner at La Cantina La Mamma Rosa. Two bottles of malbec and each a glass of complementary limoncelo. I’m surprised we escaped having a hangover!Artist Nuna Mangiante, in her studio with a large self-portrait that she is purposely defacing with charcoal. She has an entire body of work along these lines.Breakfast at Cafe Crespin in Villa Crespo.A pair of murals by the artist who goes by name “Ever.” More about him HERE (which is worth reading.)So you are on a date. It’s raining. And you have run out of things to say. I guess it’s time for the check.
Wandering the streets guarantees that you will eventually see something or meet someone interesting or unusual; something or someone outside your sphere. Such was the case on our last Saturday afternoon in Buenos Aires. We were biking around the Villa Crespo neighborhood when we noticed this large contraption poking it’s nose out from what appeared to be a garage. Heavy metal music was blasting loudly from inside and wisps of smoke and cooking smells wafted about. So what the hell, we took a peek inside.Inside we found this guy, trimming pork skins to make Chicharrón. i.e. deep fried pork skin. (I think he needs a taller table.)Here, Max is pointing to the label for Logia and asking me to follow him on Instagram (which I did). Check it out HERE. I wish I had before we left.He also had some sausages and pork shoulders cooking.
