Welsh tea in Patagonia

One of the last things you might expect to find amongst the seemingly endless prairie of Patagonia is a Welsh tea shop,  but in Gaiman in Chubut (a province of Patagonia) you have a a number to choose from. In the mid 19th century a group of Welsh pioneers set off for the new world with an aim to found a colony that could keep the Welsh identity,  which had been so quickly lost in colonies in North America.

The colonists landed at Puerto Madryn, where we were based.  Unfortunately there was no fresh water,  and the whole venture almost ended in disaster.  Lucky a local tribe took pity on the Welshmen and took them to the Chubut river,  where the settlements of Trelew and Gaiman were set up. For over 50 years Welsh was the primary language of the region,  however from the turn of the century onwards Spanish made in roads and soon very few people spoke Welsh.  Luckily a small community of Welsh speakers persisted and in the 90s there was an upsurge in interest in the areas culture and identity.

Nowadays there are hints all over the region of Welsh heritage,  non so more than in Gaiman.  This little village is a little haven of Wales,  complete with a bitter wind and sheep.  The fusion of Welsh and Spanish culture can be seen everywhere down to the names on the post boxes such as Miguel Jones.

We visited Gaiman to see the village for ourselves,  and to have some of its famous Welsh Tea. There were many options to choose from,  but in the end we chose Ty Gwn. Set out like a turn of the century Welsh tea room and bedecked with Welsh trinkets such as a towel detailing the castles of North Wales.

The tea came with more cakes than I thought possible to eat,  including bara brith, or "torta negra",  which was most often translated as 'Welsh cake'.  The tea itself was the best we've had since leaving Britain, and came in a massive tea pot with a brightly coloured cosy.  When we finished one another was brought.

Despite my initial reaction,  I did manage to finish all my cakes,  only to be asked if I wanted any more.  I politely declined as I felt as though I might burst at the seams!

Tom

The Earliest Pisco Sour

Gratuitous photo of Machu Picchu. Tom forgot to smile.

The classic Inca Trail is a four day hike from kilometre 82 (82 km along the railway from Cusco to Aguas Calientes) to Machu Picchu, the glorious ancient city of the Incas. It takes you through the spectacular scenery of the Andes, to breathless heights of over 4000 metres, to atmospheric Inca sites and to some of the coldest showers I have ever experienced. It is perfectly achievable by anyone with a decent level of fitness and some sense of adventure. We chose to go with Wayki Trek who have knowledgable and supportive guides, and superhuman porters who are provided with excellent equipment and are well paid.

On the final day, you are dragged from your tent at 3am to inhale some breakfast before queuing to get through the final checkpoint. You then walk for a final hour and a half to reach the sun gate. From here, you get your first glimpse of Machu Picchu as it is gradually lit by the sunrise. We were extremely lucky with the weather; blue skies, a few picturesque white clouds hanging in the valleys and a cool breeze. It is truly awe-inspiring. 

After some time and many photographs at the sun gate, we dropped down to the main entrance. It is around a 30 minute walk, and by the time you get here, Machu Picchu is full of people who have come by train and bus. I agree that having a train is a fantastic idea, as trekking the Inca Trail is not an option for everyone for various reasons. However, we felt that it was a bit unfair that these people get in first, when it is silent, empty and at its most atmospheric and photogenic, rather than those of us who had been walking for four days to reach it. This childish feeling of injustice may have something to do with how tired and filthy we were. Additionally the Trekkers are the only ones lucky enough to catch the sunrise at the sun gate. Still, we let ourselves feel a bit miffed for a while, and then got on with enjoying the beauty of the place.

At the main entrance there are shops, a cafe, a bar and real toilets (!) and it is here that we had Pisco Sours. No, it wasn't yet 9am, but we had been awake since 3am, we had been walking and camping for four days and we hadn't drunk anything other than water and coca tea since Cusco. And Pisco Sours have fruit in. Completely justified. They came in plastic cups and were very generous servings. Our ability to judge the quality may not have been top-notch at the time, but they looked and tasted amazing. We don't make a habit of drinking alcohol before 9am, but these Pisco Sours were most definitely worth it, and if possible, made exploring Machu Picchu even more enjoyable.

The Best Pisco Sour

If becoming a connoisseur depends solely on quantity consumed, then we are well on our way to becoming connoisseurs of Pisco Sours. I am sure, however, that other more qualified people have views on whether Peruvian or Chilean Pisco Sours are better, what Pisco should be used and on the finer points of mixing. All we can do is pick our favourite from the many that we tried.

A google or guidebook search for the best Pisco Sour in Lima directs you to El Bolivarcito - catedral de Pisco, a bar on the ground floor of Hotel Bolivar looking out onto central Lima's main square.The bar is a fairly unassuming place packed out by business lunches on weekdays, with a summary of the history of Peruvian Pisco on one wall. It has a long menu of Pisco Sours to choose from, each mixed with a different Pisco. We chose Classico first. They came in glasses a bit like old-fashioned glasses but with a short stem. It was delicious, and exactly what you'd expect from a well made Peruvian Pisco Sour, ie: smooth, uniform, no egg white globules floating in the glass and a few millimetres of froth that remains on the top as you drink it.

Next we tried the Catedral, which is the bar's signature Pisco Sour. These came in Hurricane glasses and were made using a better quality Pisco and their classic recipe. It was also delicious; fresh, smooth and beautiful to look at. We could tell that it was superior to others we had tried, although we couldn't say exactly why, and it honestly wasn't just that it was twice the volume of a standard Pisco Sour. Promise. 

We obviously need to sample more before we can detect all the subtleties of this drink. Oh well. Never mind.

Pisco Sours

The war over the ownership of Pisco Sours has been raging between Chile and Peru for many years, and both claim it as their national drink. There are distinct differences between the Peruvian and Chilean Pisco Sour, although I found they become difficult to distinguish after three or four.

Pisco is a clear grape brandy that is produced by both Peru and Chile. It comes in various strengths, but 35-40% proof is the standard in most bars. Some people drink it neat (think very light brandy) but I prefer it in cocktails.

In Peru, Pisco Sours are made by mixing Peruvian Pisco, sugar syrup, lime juice and egg white with ice cubes. This is then poured into an old fashioned glass and garnished with a few drops of Angostura bitters.

In Chile, they are made by mixing Chilean Pisco, lemon juice and sugar with ice cubes and then pouring this into (usually) a champagne flute.

There are obviously some variations, for instance in Chile, lime juice is sometimes used. The most consistent difference is the use of egg white, which makes for a smoother, more viscous cocktail.

Arguments aside, they were delicious wherever we drank them, and we will make it our mission to seek out a bottle of Pisco when we get home.

Picnics in Patagonia

El Calafate and El Chalten in Argentinian Patagonia are situated in some of the wildest, windiest and most spectacular scenery I have ever seen. Apart from the obvious attraction of the glaciers, there are lakes, estancias and dirt roads surrounded by prairie with snow-capped mountains on the horizon. Whilst we were there, our lunches were usually picnics, partly because there is little other option when you are halfway up a mountain or 20 miles from civilisation, and partly because my parents were with us for this section and there is nothing my Mum likes better than a picnic.

The content of the picnics was quite consistent, cheese and salami baguettes, crisps, apples and orange juice. The bread in Argentina tended to be quite sweet, almost like brioche, but it was usually possible to find French-style baguettes. The salami was always good, but the best we had was bought in a tiny butchers in El Chalten. The cheese was sliced mozzarella or cheddar which looked quite processed but didn't taste that way. It wasn't long before I rediscovered a childhood pleasure of putting crisps inside my sandwich, which my parents allowed, just this once, seeing as I am on holiday.

There were a few additions to the standard picnic every now and then. Sometimes there were alfajores, the Argentinian sweet treat. Two round crumbly biscuits are sandwiched together with a layer of dulce de leche, a caramel that is found in almost every Argentinian desert. Depending on the variety, the biscuits might be chocolate or vanilla and the finished product may be dipped in chocolate or rolled in desiccated coconut. They are extremely sweet, too sweet for my Dad, and so sweet that Tom had often eaten them all before we got round to the picnic. 

Once we had beer, kept cool in the boot of the car and opened between a boulder and a small stone. On two occasions we had champagne. Moet et Chandon have an Argentinian vineyard that creates moderately priced fizz. It is sweeter than most champagne, more like prosecco, and goes down very nicely. We chilled our first bottle in lake Argentino where Perito Merino glacier is, and our second stayed cold in Tom's rucksack whilst we walked.

Perito Moreno glacier in Argentina

Whilst the picnics themselves remained similar, the locations certainly did not. Our first was overlooking the Perito Moreno glacier, waiting for calvings and surrounded by tiny birds that would eat any crumbs that fell. The next was at the edge of a dirt road overlooking the prairie, lakes and mountains. We had set off in the tiny hire car to tackle the unpaved roads around El Calafate and were rewarded with beautiful wilderness, huge skies, birds of prey and guanacos. Tom and I had a picnic whilst sat on a glacier during our day ice-climbing. We could see caves, huge cracks leading to running water below and jagged peaks of ice as far as the eye can see. At the end of the day, before getting the boat, we all had a glass of Bailey's over chipped glacier ice, demonstrating an alternative use for ice axes. We also had a very welcome picnic after climbing past Fitz Roy base camp to get to Laguna de Los Tres near El Chalten. After a long walk through woodland and along rivers, it was a strenuous climb up the final ascent, with a tight, winding path and dizzying drops, but the views from the top were worth it. We ate/inhaled sandwiches whilst overlooking the lagoon, the peaks of Fitz Roy and Torres and listening to the avalanches in the distance. 

I still love picnics whilst getting soaked on a mountain in the Yorkshire Dales, or whilst freezing on a beach in Silverdale, but our picnics in Patagonia are going to take some beating.

Santiago Fish Market

One of the best eating experiences in Santiago is at the fish market. It is a huge building of wrought iron that was manufactured in Birmingham in the mid 1800's, and you can see architectural similarities with typical English market halls.

There are numerous stalls selling bass, dorado, merluza and others that we had never heard of. There is a huge array of shellfish too, including the biggest clams I have ever seen, mussels, sea urchins and huge hermit crab type creatures that poke their claws out of their shells.

Chupe de Mariscos 

In addition to gaping at the stalls, you can eat lunch at one of the many restaurants at the centre of the market. These range from stools at a bar where there is no menu and you choose what you'd like by pointing at a fish, to more formal sit-down restaurants with waiters. We ate in a few different restaurants and found them all to serve delicious food at excellent prices. We tried ceviche of bass, which was fresh, spicy and plentiful. Clams coated in Parmesan before baking (a Santiago speciality) were huge and delicious, and not to be eaten too often for the sake of your arteries! Consommé de mariscos was a clear seafood broth with chives and a floating poached egg. Paila de mariscos was a similar broth but this time loaded with mussels, prawns, crab, squid and octopus, and decorated with a huge crab claw. Chupe de mariscos was a stew of seafood and white fish thickened with ground corn and cheese.

The food was always washed down with beer or white wine, with pisco sours for pudding, and was always delicious. Being surrounded by the noise, sights and smells of a bustling market makes for a fantastic atmosphere, and if I had to choose one place to eat in Santiago it would be here.

Ceviche

Ceviche is claimed to be the specialty of various countries, Mexico, Peru and Chile included, but we avoided getting into arguments and got on with eating it instead. We were already big fans and were looking forward to ordering it without it being the most expensive starter on the menu as it is in England. The way ceviche is served differs between Peru and Chile, but the basics are the same. Fish or shellfish is soaked in lime juice and chilli until it is 'cooked' although as there is no heating involved, pickled might be a better description. The surrounding fluid turns milky during the process, and is called leche du tigre (tiger's milk).

In Chile, we were given ceviche in large portions with the leche du tigre still surrounding it, and with a few segments of lime and chilli to add to taste. In Peru, it tended to be in small portions, carefully presented and with the leche du tigre removed. We often saw leche du tigre on its own as an option for a starter, and Peruvian ceviche usually came with large grains of corn and sweet potato alongside it. The difference in the appearance of the two versions was likely to be partly due to where we ordered it (Chile - fish market stalls, Peru - restaurants) as well as actual variations across the border. Wherever we ate it, it was fresh, zingy, delicious and surprisingly filling and if you like fish and shellfish then it's a must. 

Kate

Sandwiches in Peru

It isn't something I would have associated with a South American country before I came,  but the Peruvians make a really good sandwich.  Our first meal in Peru was a sandwich,  at the popular sandwich joint 'La Lucha' in the Miraflores district of Lima. After working out how to order,  the next problem was working out what was in each sandwich.  A common theme of our South American adventure was that despite sharing a  common language (other than Brazil that is) the words for different food changed wherever you were.  For example lomo in Argentina would mean a fillet steak, in Peru it was used to refer to all beef.

The sandwiches generally were served in a basket,  cut in two and we're often accompanied by chips.  They were always big and packed with filling.  'La Lucha' also did a great selection of juices,  from the familiar to Amazonian fruit we don't have an English word for.

Another great sandwich place we ate at was 'Juanitos' in Cusco.  Again the generous sandwiches came in a basket.  Here we tried the local specialty of chicherron, fried pork belly,  in our sandwiches.  It didn't disappoint.

We had 'chicha morada' with our sandwiches at Juanitos, which is a sweet drink made of purple corn,  which tastes much better than it sounds!

So,  whilst Peru definitely had the most varied and impressive cuisine of all of the SA countries we went to, if you go don't forget the lowly sandwich,  or you'll miss out.

Tom

Chicha Morada

Completo

Just a quick one today, the completo.

The completo is basically a hot dog topped with a any number of ingredients, and is extremely popular in Chile. A completo will set you back between 500 and 1000 pesos (about 70p to £1.50) and is ready without about a minute of ordering. Most come with at least sauerkraut, and many come with loads of other ingredients. A personal favourite is the 'italiano' apparently named as it ingredients, tomatoes, mashed avocado and mayonaise resemble the italian flag. I don't quite see it, but it certainly tasted good.

Needless to say, I was the main eater of completos in Chile, mainly using them as snack to keep me going until the next meal. The only picture I have of one isn't particularly good, but does show off our weird lit up table we had in two of our Santiago apartments!


Fittingly, the last thing I ate in South America before departing for Australia was a massive italiano completo!

Tom

Parrilla

Taking about breakfast in Buenos Aires is all well and good, but we all know what people to come to Argentina to eat.

Meat.

Meat in Argentina goes alongside football as a national obsession, and when it's this good you can see why. Throughout Argentina you are hard pressed to walk along a decent sized street without seeing several restaurants offering grilled meats, from small cheap places looking like greasy spoon cafes, to expensive restaurants.

When it comes to beef, Buenos Aires is probably the best place in Argentina (and therefore the world) to eat it. Located in the north of the Argentinian Pampas (the vast flatlands where the nation's cattle are kept,) the beef that flows into Buenos Aires kitchens is fresh and succulent. Elsewhere in Argentina the lamb gives this beef a run for it's money, but in BA beef is king, and there are plenty of restaurants dedicated solely to the cooking to excellent steak, the parrillas.

We went to two parrillas whilst in BA, Don Julio and Gran Parrilla del Plata.

Don Julio

Don Julio is located in well heeled Palermo, and was our first parrilla in BA. The restaurant is decked out in wood, with customer signed wine bottles lining the walls and leather coverings on the tables. As it was out first steak we both opted for the classic - Bife de Chorizo, or sirloin steak.

Bife de Chorizo

Succulent and tender do not come close to describing these massive steaks. Melt in your mouth is a bit of a cliche, but in this case I'm going to have to use it, as I think these steaks may have been what the phrase was invented for. To top it all off, the wine (a Malbec that unfortunately I can't remember the name of) was excellent.

Our second parrilla, on our last night in BA was Gran Parrilla del Plata. Set in lively San Telmo, this parrilla again opted for a very traditional, warm atmosphere. We were determined to try some unusual cuts, and out waiter looked at us funnily and told us we should go for the good cuts (lomo or bife de chorizo, sirloin or fillet). Instead however we opted for entrana and vacio - skirt and flank. Entrana is a tin cut, which is quite tough, but full of flavour.

Entrana

Vacio or flank is an unusual cut with a layer of fat on one side. When grilled the fat melts into the meat, making it a very tender and flavourful cut, and not one I've ever eaten before. We enjoyed them both, washed down with a bottle of Fin Del Mundo Gran Reserva blend.

Vacio

As a meat lover I was very much in my element in Argentina. Kate loved every minute of it, but by the time we left BA for Santiago was getting meat fatigue, and was very thankful of the fish soups and cerviche of Chile!

Tom