Skip to content
Recipes

All recipes

Vegetarian, or something you can't eat? Set your diet once and we'll hide recipes that don't fit.

Dulce de rosa mosquetaRosehip jam

Every autumn, from March to May, families along the lakes around Bariloche and El Bolsón and up into Neuquén go out with buckets to strip the wild rose bushes that cover the hillsides, and the shops of the Andean towns fill with jars of this jam. Rosa mosqueta (rosehip) makes a smooth, coral-red preserve with a sharp, fruity, slightly floral flavour and a lot of vitamin C. It is spread on toast with butter, served with fresh cheese, or spooned into yoghurt. Rosehips are full of seeds wrapped in tiny irritating hairs, and not sieving them out properly is the error you will feel in your throat: pass the pulp through a fine sieve or food mill, and then once more. Buy rosehips from a foraging supplier or pick them away from roads, and only if you are sure of the plant. Chef's tip: pick after the first frosts, or freeze the hips overnight; the cold softens them and makes the pulp much easier to sieve.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ensalada de papa y huevoPotato and egg salad

Sunday asados in Argentina tend to come with two salads: the green ensalada mixta and this one, chunks of boiled potato and hard-boiled egg dressed while warm with oil, vinegar, salt and plenty of parsley. Some households stir in mayonnaise, which takes it close to ensalada rusa, but the oil-and-vinegar version is lighter and lets the potatoes taste of themselves. It is mild, soft and slightly tangy, and good at room temperature, which is why it suits an outdoor lunch that goes on for hours. Dressing cold potatoes is the error that leaves the salad bland: warm potatoes soak up the vinegar and oil, cold ones don't. Choose waxy potatoes that hold their shape, and cook the eggs fully for 10 minutes. Chef's tip: sprinkle the vinegar on the hot potatoes first and wait five minutes before adding the oil; the potatoes absorb the acid and the salad tastes seasoned all the way through.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ensalada mixtaLettuce, tomato and onion salad

Simplicity is the whole idea of the ensalada mixta, the salad that comes with almost every order at a parrilla and sits beside the meat at every family asado: crisp lettuce, ripe tomato and thinly sliced onion, dressed at the table with oil, vinegar and salt from the cruets. There's no mustard, no sugar, no herbs, so the quality of the tomatoes and the crunch of the lettuce carry it. It is cool, sharp and refreshing, and cuts through grilled meat, provoleta and fries. The usual blunder is dressing it too early: the salt pulls water from the tomato and the lettuce goes limp in minutes, so toss it just before it goes to the table. Round butterhead lettuce (criolla) is the classic, but any crisp lettuce works. Chef's tip: soak the sliced onion in iced water for 10 minutes and drain; it stays crunchy but loses its harsh edge.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Estofado de llamaBraised llama stew

Llama herds have grazed the Puna of Jujuy for thousands of years, and in Purmamarca, Tilcara and Humahuaca restaurants now proudly serve their meat to visitors, most often as a slow estofado. The meat is very lean, dark red and mild, a little like venison, and it is braised with onion, red pepper, tomato, cumin, ají molido and a sprig of muña or oregano until tender, then served with Andean potatoes, quinoa or rice. Outside the Andes, llama is sold by a few specialist game and alpaca farms; lean venison or beef topside are the closest substitutes. Treat it like beef and braise it until fork-tender. Because the meat has almost no fat, the common mistake is cooking it at a rolling boil, which makes it dry and stringy: keep the heat low and the lid on. Chef's tip: dust the meat lightly with a little cornflour before browning; it protects the lean pieces and thickens the sauce without making it heavy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

GarrapiñadaCaramelised peanuts

On Florida street, in the plazas of San Telmo and outside every football ground in Buenos Aires, vendors stir copper pans of peanuts over little burners, and the smell of hot caramel reaches you half a block away. Garrapiñada comes in a paper cone, still warm, each peanut wrapped in a rough, sandy, crunchy sugar shell. It takes 20 minutes and three ingredients at home, and it is vegan. The process looks wrong halfway: the syrup turns cloudy and grainy, and that is exactly what you want, because the crystallised sugar is what gives the crunchy coating. The mistake is to stop stirring once it turns sandy; keep going until some of the sugar melts again and glazes the nuts. Chef's tip: use raw, skinned peanuts and a heavy pan, and add a pinch of salt at the end; it lifts the sweetness the way the street carts' slightly smoky pans do.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Guiso carreroRice and dried beef stew

The carreros who hauled goods across Corrientes in ox carts needed food that kept for weeks, so they cooked rice in a single pot with charqui, sun-dried salted beef, plus whatever onion and pepper they carried. The guiso is still made in Corrientes homes and at country gatherings: rice swollen in a paprika-tinted broth, stringy shreds of beef with a deep, cured flavour, and a texture somewhere between a soupy risotto and a pilaf. Eat it hot from the pot with bread or chipá. Charqui is sold in Latin American shops; Brazilian carne seca works the same way. Forgetting to soak the dried beef is the classic mistake: it stays leathery and turns the whole pot too salty. Chef's tip: fry the soaked, shredded charqui in the oil before the vegetables; the caramelised edges give the broth its smoky depth. Plan for an overnight soak.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Guiso de lentejasLentil and chorizo stew

When the pampero wind blows cold off the plains, Buenos Aires turns to guiso de lentejas, a thick, smoky lentil stew that every school canteen, worker's diner and grandmother makes, traditionally on 20 June (Flag Day) and through the winter. It is built on pork: chorizo colorado (paprika sausage) and pancetta, browned first so their fat flavours the sofrito, then simmered with lentils, potato, squash, tomato and plenty of pimentón. The lentils should keep their shape in a sauce thick enough for a spoon to stand up, and crusty bread is a must alongside. Make sure the sausage is cooked through to 71 °C, which it will be after the long simmer. Seasoning with salt at the start is a common error, as the pork is salty and the stew reduces, so taste at the end. For a vegetarian version, skip the meats, use smoked paprika and add more squash. Chef's tip: make it a day ahead; like most guisos it thickens and tastes better reheated.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Guiso de quinoaQuinoa and squash stew

High in the Quebrada de Humahuaca, where quinoa has been grown on terraces for centuries, a pot of guiso de quinoa is the sort of thing served at a comedor beside the road or in a family kitchen on a cold evening at 3,000 metres. The grain cooks in a cumin-scented broth with potato, squash and red pepper until it bursts and thickens everything into a spoonable stew, and cubes of fresh cheese go in at the end to soften. Serve it in deep bowls with a spoon of llajua or chilli sauce and bread. Skipping the rinse is the mistake that spoils it: quinoa is coated in saponins that taste soapy and bitter, so wash it until the water runs clear. Queso fresco is often made with animal rennet; use a vegetarian fresh cheese, or leave it out for a vegan stew. Chef's tip: toast the rinsed quinoa in the oil for two minutes before the liquid goes in; it brings out a nutty flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Hongos de pino en escabechePickled pine mushrooms

After the autumn rains in the pine plantations of Neuquén and Río Negro, slippery jacks (Suillus luteus) pop up by the thousand, and around San Martín de los Andes and Villa La Angostura they are sold fresh by the roadside, dried in bags, or bottled like this. The mushrooms are blanched in vinegar, then kept in oil with garlic, bay and peppercorns, ending up tender, tangy and slightly silky, a classic part of a picada with cheese and bread or beside grilled vegetables. Wild mushrooms must only be eaten if identified by an expert or bought from a trusted seller; if in doubt, use cultivated mushrooms such as chestnut or king oyster. The common mistake is skipping the peeling: the slimy skin on the cap turns the pickle gluey, so pull it off first. Garlic in oil can carry botulism, so the jar must live in the fridge and be eaten within two weeks. Chef's tip: let the jar rest for two days before opening; the vinegar mellows and the flavours come together.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KiveveSquash purée with cheese

Kiveve (also written quibebe) is Guaraní food, cooked across Corrientes and Paraguay as a side for grilled meat or a supper on its own: ripe squash is simmered with onion until it falls apart, then thickened with a spoonful of cornmeal and enriched with milk and fresh cheese until it is smooth, orange and as soft as polenta, slightly sweet and slightly salty. Correntinos often serve it with chipá or sopa paraguaya on the side. The cornmeal is easy to get wrong: added all at once to a hot pot, it clumps into dry little lumps, so slake it first in cold milk and pour it in while stirring. Queso fresco or queso criollo is usually made with animal rennet; choose a vegetarian fresh cheese if needed. Chef's tip: use the deepest orange squash you can find, ideally a ripe Argentine anco or a kabocha; a pale squash gives a watery, bland kiveve.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lomito completoLoaded tenderloin sandwich

Córdoba claims the lomito as its own, and at lomiterías and late-night carts in the city it comes completo: thin, quick-seared slices of beef tenderloin piled into a big soft roll with cooked ham (pork), melting cheese, a fried egg, lettuce, tomato and mayonnaise. It is messy, juicy and filling, the classic end to a night out or a Saturday football match, usually with chips on the side. The meat is only a few millimetres thick, so it cooks in a minute; Córdoba grills cook it through, but as a whole steak you can leave it a little pink to taste. The big error is a lukewarm pan, which boils the thin beef grey instead of searing it. Chef's tip: lay the cheese on the ham in the hot pan to melt while the egg fries, so everything goes into the toasted roll hot at once.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mamón en almíbarCandied green papaya

Along the subtropical northeast, papaya (mamón) trees grow in backyards from Corrientes to Formosa, and the unripe fruit is turned into this old-fashioned dessert: strips of firm green papaya poached slowly in syrup with cloves and cinnamon until they turn amber and translucent, chewy at the edges and tender inside. It is served cold in little bowls, traditionally next to a slice of fresh cheese for that sweet-and-salty contrast (choose a plant-based cheese to keep it vegan). Rushing the syrup is the misstep that turns the papaya hard and sugary on the outside and raw within, so the heat stays low for well over an hour. Green papaya is sold in Asian and Latin grocers. Wear gloves when peeling; the milky sap can irritate the skin. Chef's tip: soak the strips in water with a teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda for an hour before cooking; it firms the outside so the pieces hold their shape in the syrup.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Matambre a la pizzaFlank steak with tomato and mozzarella

Weekend asados around Buenos Aires usually end with a show-off dish from the grill, and matambre a la pizza is the one that makes children cheer: a whole sheet of matambre (the thin flank cut that sits under the skin) cooked slowly until tender, flipped, then spread with tomato sauce, oregano and mozzarella and left on the grill until the cheese bubbles. Parrillas in the suburbs sell it cut into squares. Many cooks first simmer the meat in milk, which keeps the lean cut juicy and soft; that is the method here, finished under a hot grill or in the oven if you have no barbecue. Matambre is eaten well done and tender rather than pink. The usual mistake is grilling it straight away like a steak, which leaves it leathery: slow cooking first is what makes it tender. Chef's tip: score the membrane on the fatty side in a criss-cross before cooking, so the sheet stays flat instead of curling up when it hits the heat.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Matambre arrolladoRolled stuffed flank steak

Christmas and New Year in Argentina fall in high summer, so the festive table is crowded with cold dishes, and matambre arrollado is the one that draws a crowd: a thin sheet of beef from between the ribs and skin (matambre, the rose or flank cut), spread with garlic and parsley, layered with hard-boiled egg, carrot and red pepper, rolled into a fat sausage, poached and pressed. Rotiserías in the Buenos Aires suburbs sell it by the slice, and each round shows a mosaic of colours. Served cold with Russian salad and a sharp chimichurri, it is tender and savoury. Because the outside of the meat ends up rolled inside, cook it to a core temperature of 71 °C, as for minced meat. The usual mistake is slicing it warm: it falls apart, so press it under a weight in the fridge overnight. If you can't find matambre, ask the butcher for a thin flank steak butterflied to 1 cm. Chef's tip: lay the meat with the grain running along the roll, so each slice cuts across the fibres and stays tender.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MazamorraHominy milk pudding

Long before cake, there was mazamorra: dried white maize, soaked and simmered with water until the kernels burst, then finished with milk, sugar and cinnamon. In colonial Buenos Aires mazamorreras sold it from clay pots on the street, and it still turns up at school and town-hall celebrations every 25 May and on cold evenings in the interior, eaten warm or cold from a bowl. The kernels stay pleasantly chewy in a creamy, gently sweet milk, a bit like rice pudding with more bite. Look for maíz blanco pisado (cracked white hominy) in Latin American shops; dried white pozole corn is the closest substitute. Plan ahead: the corn needs soaking overnight. Adding the milk too early is the main mistake, because the corn will not soften in milk and the pot catches on the bottom, so cook it in water first. Chef's tip: stir in a little of the hot liquid with the sugar before you add the rest of the milk, and serve it with a dusting of cinnamon or a spoonful of honey.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mejillones a la provenzalMussels with garlic and parsley

On the Atlantic coast around Puerto Madryn and the Golfo Nuevo, mussels from cold Patagonian waters are farmed and gathered in quantity, and seafood places along the rambla steam them a la provenzal, which in Argentina means lots of garlic and parsley. A splash of dry white wine goes into the pot; the alcohol mostly cooks off, but you can swap it for fish stock with a little lemon for an alcohol-free pot that tastes just as good. Serve with bread or chips to mop up the briny juices. Cooking mussels too long is the usual slip: they shrink and turn rubbery, so lift the lid as soon as most have opened. Before cooking, throw away any mussel with a broken shell or one that stays open when tapped; after cooking, discard any that stay shut. Chef's tip: keep the garlic in gently warm oil until it just smells sweet; brown garlic turns bitter and dominates the mussels.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mollejas a la parrillaGrilled sweetbreads

Order an asado in any Argentine parrilla and the mollejas arrive early, before the big cuts, crusty and golden outside, soft and almost custardy within, with nothing but lemon. They are the thymus glands of young cattle, mild in flavour and rich in texture, and parrilleros treat them as a treat for the guests who hang around the grill. Ask a butcher for veal sweetbreads (heart sweetbreads are the plumpest) and cook them the day you buy them. Grilling them hot and fast is the common mistake: the outside chars while the centre stays raw and rubbery. As offal, they must be cooked right through, to at least 71 °C in the middle. Chef's tip: a brief blanch firms them, makes the membrane easy to peel and means the grill only has to crisp them.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Morrones con huevo a la parrillaGrilled peppers with egg and cheese

While the meat rests on the cooler side of the parrilla, many asadores put halved red peppers cut side up over the coals, let them soften and char, then crack an egg into each one with a piece of cheese and a pinch of oregano. The pepper becomes a little dish: sweet, smoky and juicy, with a just-set egg and molten cheese in the middle. It is one of the classic starters at an Argentine asado, eaten with bread before the steak arrives, and it makes a good vegetarian main for anyone who skips the meat. The mistake is cracking the egg into a raw pepper: the egg overcooks before the pepper softens, so grill the shells first. Cook until the white is completely set. Queso cremoso or mozzarella is usually made with animal rennet; pick a vegetarian one if needed. Chef's tip: cover the peppers with a foil tent or a lid once the egg goes in; the trapped heat sets the top of the egg without burning the base.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pan dulceChristmas fruit bread

No Argentine Christmas Eve table is complete without a pan dulce, set out at midnight with turrón, nuts and a cold cider for the adults. The bread is the River Plate take on Genoese pandolce and Milanese panettone: a tall, buttery yeast dough scented with orange blossom and lemon, packed with candied fruit, raisins and walnuts. The crumb is closer and moister than panettone, and it keeps for a week wrapped in a cloth. Allow a long day, as the dough has a sponge and two rises. Some bakers soak the fruit in rum or sweet wine; here it is soaked in orange juice, so the bread is alcohol-free. People often add the fruit at the start of kneading, which shreds the gluten and gives a heavy, sunken loaf; work it in only once the dough is silky. Chef's tip: bake it in a tall paper mould or a 16 cm tin lined with a collar of baking paper, and turn it upside down onto a rack for the first 20 minutes of cooling so the top does not sink.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Papas a la provenzalFries with garlic and parsley

Bodegones, the old-school Buenos Aires canteens with jamón hanging from the ceiling and waiters in white jackets, serve mountains of papas fritas, and the upgrade everyone orders is "a la provenzal": crisp chips tossed while still sizzling in a mix of finely chopped raw garlic and parsley. The heat of the potatoes takes the edge off the garlic, so it turns fragrant rather than fiery, and the parsley stays bright green. They go with milanesas, grilled steak or a plate of fried eggs. Adding the garlic to the frying oil is the error many make: it burns in seconds and turns bitter; it goes on only after frying. This method fries the chips twice for a crunch that lasts; for an oven version, toss the chips with 3 tbsp oil and roast at 220 °C for 35 minutes, turning once, then dress them the same way. Chef's tip: rinse and dry the cut potatoes very well; surface starch and water are what make chips limp.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pasta frolaQuince tart

Pasta frola came to the River Plate with Italian immigrants (it is a cousin of the crostata), and it is now the tart every Argentine kitchen keeps on the counter for afternoon mate. The crust is short and cakey rather than crisp, scented with lemon zest and vanilla, and the filling is dulce de membrillo melted down into a spreadable jam; dulce de batata is the other classic. Bakeries in Buenos Aires sell it by the square and it keeps for days in a tin, getting better on the second day. The lattice strips should be thin and slightly wider apart than you think, so the dark filling shows through. A common slip is to spread the quince paste straight from the block: it will not spread, it tears the base and it turns leathery in the oven, so loosen it first with a little hot water. Chef's tip: chill the lined tin and the cut strips for 15 minutes before baking, so the lattice keeps its shape instead of slumping into the filling.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pastel de papasBeef and mashed potato pie

Midweek family dinners in Buenos Aires often come out of the oven in a deep dish: pastel de papas, the Argentine answer to cottage pie. The beef picadillo is cooked the way it is for empanadas, with onion, red pepper, paprika and cumin, then studded with green olives, chopped boiled egg and sometimes raisins for a sweet-salty bite, all under a thick, creamy mash browned with cheese or sugar on top. It is a dish of school lunches and Sunday leftovers, served with a green salad. Mince must reach 71 °C, which it will long before the potato crust browns; just make sure no pink remains when you cook the filling. A runny filling is the usual letdown, as it seeps into the mash, so cook it until the pan is almost dry. Chef's tip: sprinkle a teaspoon of sugar over the mash before baking, as many Argentine cooks do; it caramelises into a thin, crackly golden crust.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pastelitos criollosFried quince pastries

Every 25 May, when Argentina marks the 1810 revolution, bakeries and school kitchens from Buenos Aires to Tucumán turn out trays of pastelitos: two squares of flaky dough stacked into a star, filled with dulce de membrillo or dulce de batata, fried until the layers fan open and then dipped in syrup. They are eaten warm with mate or hot chocolate, shattering crisp outside and sticky in the middle. Lard is the traditional fat in both the dough and the frying pan; this version uses butter or vegetable shortening for laminating and sunflower oil for frying, so it stays vegetarian. Expect a hard but rewarding job: the dough is folded like a quick puff pastry. Oil that is too hot is the classic error, browning the outside before the inner layers have opened, so keep it around 160 °C. Chef's tip: pinch the four corners of the top square down onto the gaps of the bottom one and press with a wet fingertip, or the star unfolds in the oil and the filling leaks.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

PatayAlgarroba pod cake

Long before sugar reached the dry northwest, the pods of the algarrobo tree were the region's sweetness, and patay is the oldest way of keeping them: the pods are ground, the flour is moistened and pressed into a cake that dries into something dense, fudgy and naturally sweet, with notes of cocoa, coffee and caramel. In Santiago del Estero you still buy it in round slabs at markets and roadside stalls, to eat with mate or to crumble into milk. Harina de algarroba comes from the South American Prosopis tree; look for it in health-food shops or online, and mesquite flour is the same family and works well. Mediterranean carob flour is different and tastes more bitter. Too much water is the way most first attempts go wrong: the cake should be pressed from a damp, crumbly mix, not a batter, or it bakes up gummy. Chef's tip: sieve the flour twice; algarroba flour clumps, and lumps stay as hard grains.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Showing 24 of 399 recipes

Show more recipes

Page 12 of 17