First, for those who may have missed it, I have a new, longer review piece up on the Substack feed. I’ll get the back and forth between these down smoothly with time, or, maybe go back to everything being here on SaltShaker, or move everything over there. We shall see. This is an experiment.
It’s a review of new Peruvian restaurant Cviche.pe in Palermo and goes into more detail than my usual, coming after half a dozen visits – solo, with Henry, and with the Horde.
Today we have a trio of steakhouses, parrillas. Now, just to dispel any illusions one might, not all steakhouses are equal, nor are all steakhouses… good. We shall have our ups and downs today. Fair warning…. Also note, after requests from several readers over time, I’m going with larger photos for the posts from now on, they will take a little longer to load, but mean you don’t necessarily have to click on them to see detail (though even these you can enlarge with a click).
Let’s begin at a classic bodegón. Not strictly a steakhouse, as they have a full menu of classic old-school dishes here, but steaks are the primary part of the menu, and looking around, about 3/4 of the people were cutting in to one or another pieces off moo. Bodegón La Pipeta, San Martín 498 in Microcentro, is not the most accessible spot around. It’s not all that hard to find, being festooned with signs and kitsch, even outside, but it’s down a steep, somewhat winding staircase in a lower basement of an office building. Still, the place gets packed, and is clearly popular. I’d put the mix on the day I went as about half folk who are clearly regulars, and know the waiters, and half tourists, many of whom seem slightly bewildered.
After a consult with my waiter, I ordered up my usual favorite cut of steak, the entraña, or hanger steak. Not as tender as most other cuts, but more flavor! To celebrate my having ordered, I was gifted (as is everyone) with a plate of what might be the most execrable empanadas I’ve ever had. Inedible. Barely sealed, and so dried out, including inside, that I might as well have been biting into corrugated cardboard. This does not bode well. I’d ordered a salad in place of the proffered fries to go with my steak, and it’s fresh, though I’m not wowed by the cheap sunflower oil and supermarket vinegar on the table to dress it. On the other hand, they have both salt and pepper on the table. Pepper?!
I wasn’t asked how I wanted my steak cooked, though I shot in that I’d like it rare to medium rare. The waiter shrugged and told me it comes out how it comes out. It came out rare to medium rare, so either he was just dissembling, or he did ask the kitchen, or maybe they cook them right to begin with. It’s also well-seasoned, and a huge portion, and, as you can see by the photo at the top of the post, I finished every bite.
Also worth a mention, one of the best chimichurris I’ve had in town. Packed with chilies, which is so unusual in an old-school bodegón given the general bent of Argentines away from spicy food, that I was shocked. More places that serve spicy chimichurri! I should start a campaign.
Despite having eaten half a cow, I let myself be talked into a classic dessert, the vigilante, here made with dulce de batata, sweet potato paste, rather than the more common quince paste. And two huge slabs of cheese. I only made it through about a third of this. Too much! Surprisingly decent coffee. All very reasonably priced – all of the above, with tip, came in at 18.000 pesos, or about $15.
Great service, fun, if noisy atmosphere. Pass over the empanadas and maybe go with fries instead of the salad – only because of the condiments. Overall, recommended.
This place came to my attention when someone, back awhile ago, had said that I simply had to try their chori-chipa, a grilled chorizo on a chipa – a yuca, or mandioca, or tapioca starch bun packed with cheese and butter. I mean, the combination sounds like a heart attack waiting to happen, but I was with a friend, and we were going to split one, right? And so we found ourselves one lunchtime at Solomía, Quesada 1699, in Nuñez, the far northeast corner of the city. It’s all very lumberyard feeling.
And, we ordered up said chori-chipa to share. The chorizo was fine, the chipa was not a chipa – it was just an ordinary white bread hamburger bun topped with a cap of grated cheese baked atop. It was not very interesting. It was not very good. And something about it range familiar, especially as we looked across the street and spotted La Brasería, a place the Horde had visited way back on outing number 14 in 2017! I did a quick look at my review, and yes, there it was, a chori-chipa, but at least that one on an actual large chipa, albeit one that wasn’t well made.
And we ordered an entraña to split. Less than half the size of the one I ordered solo at the place above, and cooked to death, and not seasoned. The weird stuffed baked potato didn’t help matters – rather than an expected sour cream, green onion, and bacon – all of which were present, though the sour cream in a mere spoonful or so inside the potato, the whole thing was dominated by a fistful of cheap mozzarella. There might actually have been more cheese than potato.
For some reason, probably just not paying attention, we ordered an ensalada completa instead of an ensalada mixta. The latter is a lettuce, tomato, and onion salad that is ubiquitous in local restaurants. The former, here, was a whopping mass of lettuce, tomato, carrot, onion, green beans, beets, and eggs. The green beans and beets were either canned or just way overcooked, soft and squishy, and not very pleasant.
Service was, at best, okay, the atmosphere was fine, the food was not. It wasn’t expensive, though the portions were, I guess, thankfully small – we spent about 24.000 pesos for the above, so $20 for two. But still. Give this place a pass.
This is going to be too photo intensive with a baker’s dozen of photos for the Fogón Asado experience, so I’m switching back to smaller size photos to let the page load faster, you can click on those of interest to enlarge them. Fogón has been on my list since it opened several years ago. And now, they have two locations, offering up the same nine-course tasting menu. I went to the one at Gorriti 3780, the other is at Uriarte 1423, a few blocks away, for lunch.
They offer lunch or dinner, and “chef’s guided experience” to simply “tasting menu”. As best I can tell, they’re all identical, except for pricing, and whether you sit at this small, ten seat bar with the chef in front of you, or in the larger room (only at night) that seats about thirty people from the looks of it. The latter is still wrapped around a bigger grill where the same stuff is going on, I guess maybe the chef there just doesn’t talk to you? The two experiences cost the same amount – US$60 at lunch and US$80 at dinner – wine not included. They offer different wine pairing options – three if I remember right, I didn’t opt to go for any of them – and ran from around US$25-45 additional I think. They do not have any other option for alcoholic beverages – no beers, no cocktails (other than a wine-based one that everyone gets), no wine by the glass. That said, I mentioned to the waiter/adjutant to the chef that I wouldn’t mind a single glass of wine, he said that he’d pick one for me, on the house. Turns out that everyone who doesn’t order one of the tastings gets that – actually two glasses, one with the main course and one with dessert.
Let’s go to the food, I’m going to keep my thoughts short and sweet. I think.
Oh, first, we have to make our own chimichurri. They provide a recipe of how much of each of these ingredients one is to use. I deviated and added more chili flakes, and less garlic powder (I’m not a fan of garlic powder). I was treated to both a raised eyebrow or two, as well as a sort of “you did what?” from earlier mentioned adjutant. Very surprising that they use all dried ingredients. For me, the mark of a great parrilla is one that uses fresh herbs, garlic, and chili, rather than dried. I’d have expected from a place of such hyped caliber that they’d have gone that route.
I had, by the way, been seated with the only other person there solo, so that we would both have someone to talk to, we were informed. Yeah, I don’t go out to dine solo in order to talk to strangers, but, it turned out he was a charming man from France, with a wicked wit, and we ended up having a great time chatting. He even then came to Casa SaltShaker the next night!
Charred eggplant topped with citrus ricotta, peanuts, and herbs. Not a bad start.
A quarter of a provoleta topped with a piece of grilled peach and placed into a searingly hot cast iron mini-skillet filled with bubbling sweet torrontés wine reduction. Good, if a bit on the treacly side.
Sweetbreads – sliced, and I’m not sure how they were cooked, but they’d been reduced to a sort of chewy, almost caramel texture. Odd. Just odd. We’re starting to make sottovoce comments, my new French friend and I.
But a nice recovery with a slice of morcilla sausage topped with quince jam and of chorizo topped with roasted bell pepper. A traditional “matrimonio”, marriage, of days gone by. Both good, but I was informed by the watchful eye of the kitchen aide that I’d eaten them in the WRONG order, plus noting that I didn’t finish the pucks of bread underneath.
An “eight hour braised short rib” ought to be falling apart. Then again, something noted as being “braised”, a cooking technique where the meat is submerged in a barely simmering liquid and cooked until it has such a texture, is quite different from having been wrapped in baking paper and left sitting high above the coals for eight hours. It was pretty clear these weren’t well cooked when the chef had to struggle to pull the bone out of the meat – it should slide out with ease. And the meat… squeaked… to bite into it. And the “sprinkle” of sea salt was overwhelming – we, and almost everyone at the counter, brushed most of it off. Easily the worst course of the day, sorry to say.
But not far behind was the way overcooked matambrito of pork – pork flank that was grilled in front of us… and grilled… and grilled… and grilled… until it was borderline dried out.
But, we have a recovery in the quite good ceja de ojo de bife. The ceja, literally “eyebrow”, is the flap of meat cut off the side of the ribeye. Here, it was smoked in a box with a flaming pinecone, sitting on the counter near us all, filling the room with smoke, and then grilled to finish it. The smoky taste was interesting, though not overly surprising since the whole room was filled with that aroma. But it was a very taste bit of meat with charred corn and cauliflower puree – my favorite course of the meal.
And then a slice off the ribeye itself, cooked a beautiful rare to medium rare and served with sweet potato puree and lightly pickled roasted vegetables (small potatoes and onions) on the side.
Just in case you hadn’t had enough food, all the scraps from the cooking and cutting – a bit of short rib, ceja, and ribeye, along with bones to gnaw on, is brought around and offered. I imagine that what’s on offer and how much of it is dependent on how many people are there – we had two people not show up, so there was extra food all around. I did not partake of this, I’d had quite enough, thank you.
And finished with a dulce de leche filled crepe served with whipped cream and mixed berries.
Overall, Fogón Asado is more about the experience and the show than it is about the food. I enjoyed watching the chef cook, albeit there’s not a huge amount that he did – all his sauces and such were pre-made, so it was mostly just him flipping things on the grill and slicing and plating. But he kept up a pretty solid banter in both Spanish and English with everyone at the counter. Apparently there are different duos at lunch and dinner and in the different dining areas, as well as, obviously, the two different locales, so that experience could be similar or not.
The food – hit and miss – though even the best dishes on the plate wouldn’t be among my choices at a great steakhouse. Overall I’d put the food at a solid.. okay.
If you’re fine with paying $60 or $80, plus the cost of wine if ordered (the meal part has to be prepaid when you make the reservation, and is non-refundable past a certain point, I think it was three days before the reservation, the wine is paid for on the spot), this would be a fun and interesting experience – primarily for a visitor. There are far better parrillas around. And there are others like Asado Adventure that I think are more fun (and has better, if less creative, food).
