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.

Reviro

For field workers in the yerba-mate plantations of Misiones, the morning starts with reviro: a simple dough of flour, egg, water and salt fried in plenty of fat and then broken up with a spatula as it cooks, until it becomes a pile of crisp, golden, irregular crumbs with soft centres. It is filling, cheap and very good dunked in a mug of mate cocido or milky coffee, and it shares its roots with the Guaraní and Paraguayan kitchen across the river. Traditionally it is fried in lard or beef fat; this version uses butter and oil so it is vegetarian. Turning it too early is the classic blunder: the batter needs to fry undisturbed until a crust forms, or it turns into a pale, doughy mash. Chef's tip: keep chopping and turning with the edge of a metal spatula for the last 10 minutes; the more edges you make, the more crunch you get.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Dulce de calafate

Legend says whoever eats calafate will come back to Patagonia, and in El Calafate, the town on Lake Argentino named after the thorny bush, the small blue-black berries turn up in ice cream, sauces, and above all this jam. The fruit ripens in midsummer across Santa Cruz and Tierra del Fuego; it is tart and seedy, somewhere between a blueberry and a blackcurrant, and the jam is dark purple, glossy and gently spiced by the fruit itself. It goes on bread at breakfast, with a slab of cheese after dinner, or with pancakes. Outside Patagonia, frozen calafate is hard to find; blueberries with a handful of blackcurrants or barberries give a similar balance of sweet and sharp. Overcooking is the slip that turns it into a stiff, dull paste, because the berries are naturally high in pectin, so test early. Chef's tip: crush a third of the berries before cooking; you get a jam with body and some whole fruit to bite on.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Puchero

Winter Sundays in the towns of Buenos Aires Province mean a big pot of puchero bubbling from mid-morning: beef shin and brisket on the bone, a marrow bone, chickpeas, corn on the cob, squash, sweet potato, potato, carrots and cabbage, all simmered together. The meal comes in two courses, as in the Spanish cocido it descends from: first the golden broth, often with fine noodles or rice, then a platter of meat and vegetables doused with olive oil, salt and a spoon of salsa criolla. It is gentle and clean-tasting rather than rich. Many families add chorizo colorado or pancetta (pork); this version keeps to beef. Plan for the chickpeas to soak overnight. Boiling it hard is the classic mistake, which clouds the broth and toughens the meat; it should barely shiver. Chef's tip: add the vegetables in stages, longest-cooking first, so the cabbage and squash hold their shape instead of dissolving.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kiveve

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

Submarino

Café tables in Buenos Aires have their own way with hot chocolate: the waiter brings a tall glass of frothy, steaming milk on a saucer with a slim bar of dark chocolate, and you drop the bar in yourself and watch it sink like a submarine. Stirred with a long spoon, it melts into a rich, not-too-sweet drink, and it is the classic order with medialunas on a cold winter afternoon or after school. At home it takes five minutes, and children love the moment of dropping the bar in. The common letdown is milk that is only warm: the chocolate sits in a lump at the bottom. Heat it until it is steaming and just starting to rise, but not boiling. Chef's tip: froth the hot milk with a whisk or milk frother before pouring; the foam on top is part of the café ritual and keeps the drink hot while the chocolate melts.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Dulce de rosa mosqueta

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

Tarta de choclo

Ask any Argentine rotisería for a slice of tarta and choclo will be next to the chard and the ham-and-cheese. This is the creamy one: sweetcorn kernels folded into a thick white sauce with softened onion and red pepper, set with egg and cheese inside a buttery shortcrust. It is lunchbox and picnic food, eaten warm or at room temperature with a green salad, and it is a big favourite with children for its sweetness. The filling should slice cleanly but still be soft. A runny centre is the usual problem, and it comes from a thin white sauce or from forgetting to blind-bake: make the sauce thick enough to coat the spoon heavily, and part-bake the case. Mozzarella and grated hard cheese are often made with animal rennet, so buy vegetarian ones if that matters. Chef's tip: blitz a third of the corn with the white sauce; it gives a creamier, more corn-tasting filling while the whole kernels keep some bite.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pastel de papas

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

Tortitas mendocinas

Every panadería in Mendoza fills a tray with tortitas in the early morning, and they go out in paper bags to be eaten warm with mate, split and spread with butter, quince paste or a slice of cheese. They are flat, round, slightly salty breads, soft and layered in the middle and crisp at the edges, with the fork marks that give them away. The traditional fat is beef lard (grasa), which makes them very short; here butter or vegetable shortening takes its place to keep them vegetarian, and both give a good flaky result. The mistake to avoid is rolling them thin like crackers: they should be a generous centimetre thick, or they bake hard and dry. Chef's tip: fold the dough in three twice before the final roll, like a quick puff pastry; those folds give tortitas their layers.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Dulce de alcayota

Late autumn in San Juan and Mendoza, the huge striped alcayotas (fig-leaf gourds, Cucurbita ficifolia) are left to cure in the sun, then split open for this preserve: the white flesh separates into long strands like angel hair, which cook in syrup until golden, glossy and translucent, with walnuts and a hint of cinnamon and clove. It is spooned onto bread, eaten with fresh cheese, and used to fill empanadas and pastries. Look for alcayota at Latin American grocers (sometimes sold as chilacayote or cidra); spaghetti squash makes a respectable stand-in. Cooking the syrup too hard is the trap: it caramelises and turns the preserve dark and bitter, so keep it at a gentle bubble. For safe storage, jars must be sterilised and sealed hot. Chef's tip: rinse the cooked strands in cold water before they go into the syrup; it washes off the starch and keeps the threads separate and clear.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bife a caballo

On the chalkboard of any neighbourhood bodegón in Buenos Aires you will find bife a caballo, steak "on horseback": a thick bife de chorizo (sirloin) or rump seared hard in a hot pan, crowned with two fried eggs whose yolks run into the meat juices, and served with a pile of chips. It is the plate for hungry taxi drivers at lunch and for anyone recovering from a long night. Cook the steak to your taste; Argentines usually ask for it jugoso (medium rare, about 55 °C in the centre) or a punto (medium, about 60 °C). Use eggs fried until the whites are fully set, and cook the yolks firm for anyone vulnerable. Crowding a pan that isn't hot enough is the classic mistake, which stews the steak grey, so let the pan smoke first. Chef's tip: rest the steak while you fry the eggs in the same pan; the beef juices in the fat give the whites crisp, savoury edges.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Empanadas de pescado

Along the coast of Santa Fe, especially during Lent and Holy Week, fishmongers' stalls and riverside kiosks sell fried empanadas filled with sábalo or surubí. The fish is poached, flaked and folded through soft onion and sweet pepper, then sealed in a thin oil-based dough and fried until blistered and crisp. Squeeze lemon over them and eat them warm, with a green salad or just a paper napkin. Any firm white fish works: hake, cod or a farmed catfish. The mistake people make most is skipping the bone check; river fish such as sábalo hide fine bones, so run your fingers through every flake. Chef's tip: keep the filling quite dry and cold before you fill the discs; extra liquid turns to steam in the hot oil and bursts the seams.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mamón en almíbar

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

Torta galesa

Welsh settlers arrived in the Chubut valley in 1865 and their descendants still serve afternoon tea in Gaiman and Trelew, where the casas de té bring out pots of tea, scones, cream cakes and, always, a slice of torta galesa. It is a dense, almost black fruit cake made with brown sugar and black treacle, studded with raisins, candied peel and walnuts, and it was built to last through long Patagonian winters and journeys across the steppe. The crumb is moist and sticky, rich with spice and caramel. An oven that is too hot is the classic error: the outside chars before the middle is set, so it bakes low and slow under a sheet of paper. There's no alcohol in this version; many cooks brush it with rum after baking, so leave that out or use strong tea. Chef's tip: wrap the cooled cake tightly and wait two or three days before cutting; it turns moister and the flavours deepen.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Berenjenas en escabeche

Jars of these marinated aubergines sit in every Argentine grandmother's fridge, a legacy of Italian and Spanish immigrants, and they come out for the picada before the asado, alongside salami, cheese and bread, or to fill a sandwich. Strips of aubergine are salted, blanched briefly in vinegar and water, then layered with garlic, chilli flakes, oregano and plenty of oil. They turn soft, silky and sharp, with a slow heat from the chilli. Overboiling is the error: the strips should be just tender after 2–3 minutes, or they turn to mush in the jar. Allow 2 hours for salting before you start and a day in the fridge before eating. Garlic kept in oil can carry botulism, so keep the jar refrigerated and eat it within two weeks. Chef's tip: press the drained aubergine hard between tea towels before jarring; the drier the strips, the longer they stay firm.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Matambre arrollado

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

Guiso de quinoa

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

Zapallo en almíbar

Across the Argentine countryside, when the autumn squash harvest piles up, cooks turn some of it into zapallo en almíbar: cubes of firm orange squash soaked briefly in slaked lime (cal) and then simmered in syrup until they are crisp-skinned outside and tender, almost translucent inside. Farm stalls in Córdoba and Santiago del Estero sell it in jars, and it is eaten as dessert with a slice of cheese, the same idea as postre vigilante. This home version skips the lime and uses a short sugar cure instead, which still keeps the pieces whole. It is vegan as written; serve it with vegan cheese or toasted walnuts to keep it that way. The mistake to avoid is stirring: the squash breaks into purée, so shake the pan instead. Chef's tip: use a dense, dry squash such as Crown Prince or butternut neck, and cook the syrup slowly; if it boils hard the outside candies before the centre softens.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pizza al molde

Order "una grande de muzza" at a Corrientes Avenue pizzería and this is what lands on the metal stand: a tall, airy base baked in a round black tin, a thin layer of tomato sauce and so much mozzarella it spills over the edge and fries against the metal. Porteños eat it standing at the counter or at a Formica table, often with a wedge of fainá on top and a cold soda beside it, and at home it is Friday-night food the whole family agrees on. The crumb should be soft and bready like focaccia, the base crisp from the oiled tin. Most home cooks go wrong by loading the cheese on raw dough: by the time the base has baked the mozzarella has split into grease. Here the base is part-baked with its sauce first, the way pizzerías keep pre-pizzas ready, and the cheese only goes in for the last minutes. The mozzarella is usually made with animal rennet, so pick a vegetarian one if that matters to you. Chef's tip: let the dough rise a second time inside the oiled tin; that last proof is what gives the high, open edge.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tomaticán

Mendoza's irrigated orchards and fincas drown in tomatoes in February, and tomaticán is the old Cuyo answer to the glut: a quick pan stew of onion, chopped ripe tomato and fresh sweetcorn, seasoned with oregano and a little ají, with beaten egg stirred through at the end until it sets in soft curds. It is a farmhouse lunch and a cheap supper, eaten with crusty bread to mop the juice, and some cooks add diced potato to stretch it. The flavour is bright and sweet-sour, the texture loose and juicy. People often add the egg to a pan full of liquid and end up with egg soup; cook the tomatoes down until the juices are jammy first. Bread for dipping is traditional, so pick a gluten-free loaf if you need it. Chef's tip: stir the egg in off the heat and let the pan's heat set it; you want soft, creamy ribbons, not a dry scramble.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Torrejas de acelga

When a bunch of acelga (Swiss chard) is the cheapest thing at the verdulería, Buenos Aires home cooks turn it into torrejas: thin fritters of chopped chard bound with egg, a little flour, garlic and grated cheese, fried in shallow oil until the edges lace up and crisp. They are weekday food, eaten hot from the pan with a squeeze of lemon and a salad, or cold the next day in a sandwich, and children who won't touch greens tend to eat them. Inside they stay tender and green, outside nutty and golden. Wet chard is what ruins them: water left in the leaves makes the batter thin and the fritters spit and fall apart, so wring the blanched chard really dry. Grated hard cheese is often made with animal rennet; pick a vegetarian hard cheese if needed. Chef's tip: fry one small torreja first to check the seasoning and thickness, then adjust with a spoon of flour or a splash of milk.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Centolla gratinada

Centolla, the southern king crab hauled from the cold waters of the Beagle Channel, is Ushuaia's pride, and seafood restaurants along the harbour serve it gratinada: sweet chunks of leg meat in a light white sauce, crowned with cheese and browned under a fierce grill. It is rich, so serve it in small dishes as a starter with lemon and a green salad, plus crusty bread for anyone who can eat gluten. Buy cooked, frozen king crab legs or meat and thaw them in the fridge overnight; if you ever cook crab yourself, it must be alive when it goes into the pot. A frequent mistake is a sauce so thick and cheesy that the delicate crab disappears; keep it pourable and the cheese thin. Chef's tip: fold the crab in gently at the end, in big pieces, and let the oven only heat it; it is already cooked and turns stringy if it boils.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mejillones a la provenzal

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

Chinchulines

No proper Sunday asado in Buenos Aires province or the interior is complete without a round of achuras, and chinchulines are the boldest of them: beef small intestine, coiled on the grill and cooked slowly until the outside crackles like pork scratchings and the inside stays soft and rich with its own fat. Pass them round on a board with lemon and bread as a starter while the bigger cuts cook. Buy them already cleaned from a butcher or a Latin American meat counter, and rinse them again well at home. The usual mistake is too much heat: the outside burns long before the inside cooks. Offal must be cooked right through, with no soft, raw-looking parts. Chef's tip: simmer them briefly before grilling; it cleans them further, shortens the time on the coals and gives you a much more even crunch.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bizcochitos de grasa

A paper bag of bizcochitos de grasa sits next to the mate gourd in kitchens, offices and roadside service stations across Argentina, from Buenos Aires to the Andes. These little rounds, a couple of bites each, are layered with beef fat, so they flake and crumble, salty and plain enough to eat by the dozen with bitter mate in the afternoon. The fat is rendered beef fat (grasa vacuna), so they are not vegetarian; ask your butcher for dripping or render suet yourself. A dough worked too warm is the mistake that robs them of their layers; the fat melts into it instead of staying in sheets. Chef's tip: chill the dough for 10 minutes between folds whenever it starts to feel greasy, and prick each round right through so it puffs in flakes rather than domes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mollejas a la parrilla

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

Empanadas cordobesas

Sweet and salty is the whole point here. Córdoba's empanadas hold a filling of beef, onion, a little potato, raisins and olives, and the moment they come out of the fryer they get a sprinkle of sugar that melts into the crackly crust. They turn up at birthday parties, school fundraisers and the patriotic holidays of 25 May and 9 July, often next to a bowl of locro. If the sugar on top sounds odd, try one: the contrast with the cumin and paprika is the local hallmark. The error that ruins them is frying in oil that isn't hot enough, which leaves them pale and greasy; keep it at 175 °C. Chef's tip: dust with sugar within seconds of draining, while the surface is still glistening, or it won't stick.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Torta Balcarce

Mar del Plata's beachgoers and the people of Balcarce, a farm town an hour inland in Buenos Aires Province, both claim this cake, which was created in a Balcarce confitería in the 1950s and became famous when holidaymakers carried it home in boxes. Two layers of sponge sandwich a filling of dulce de leche, cream and crumbled crunchy meringue with walnuts, chestnuts or almonds and coconut, and the outside is covered in more cream and toasted coconut. It is soft, crunchy and very sweet, a celebration cake for Sundays and birthdays. Some bakers soak the sponge with a liqueur syrup; this version uses a vanilla syrup, so it is alcohol-free. The common error is mixing the meringue into the cream too early: it dissolves and the filling turns runny, so fold it in at the last minute. Chef's tip: bake the meringues the day before and keep them in an airtight tin; dry, crisp meringue is what gives the cake its crunch.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chivito al asador

Malargüe, in the dry south of Mendoza, holds a goat festival every summer, and the star is the chivito: a milk-fed kid opened flat, wired to an iron cross and planted at an angle beside a fire of jarilla or other hardwood. It cooks from the side, never over the flames, basted with a garlicky salmuera until the skin turns glassy and crackling and the meat pulls apart. Serve it straight from the cross with salad, bread and chimichurri. Order a whole kid of 5–7 kg dressed weight from a specialist or halal butcher, and check the cross fits it before the day. Most failures come from setting it too close to the fire, which burns the outside while the thick legs stay raw. Kid is lean, so cook it right through, as in Mendoza: the thickest part of the leg should reach at least 70 °C. Chef's tip: cook bone side to the fire for two-thirds of the time; the ribs protect the meat, and the skin goes on last so it crisps instead of scorching.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Alfajor santafesino

Santa Fe's alfajor is a different animal from the soft cornflour kind sold everywhere else: three wafer-thin, crackly discs of yolk-rich pastry, stacked with dulce de leche, then dipped in a cooked sugar glaze that sets hard, white and shiny. Bakeries in Santa Fe city and along the Paraná river ship them all over the country in boxes, and travellers bring them home as the regional present. Bite through and the glaze shatters, the pastry flakes and the dulce de leche holds it all together. Thick pastry is the mistake that ruins the texture; it has to be rolled until you can almost see the worktop through it, or the alfajor turns bready. Some old recipes add a splash of cane spirit to the dough; this version uses only water and is alcohol-free. Use a thick, pastry-chef's dulce de leche (repostero) so it doesn't ooze. Chef's tip: bake the discs in batches and keep the rest of the dough covered; it dries out fast and then cracks when rolled.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Patay

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

Sorrentinos de calabaza

Mar del Plata claims the sorrentino, a big round stuffed pasta about the size of a jam-jar lid that Italian-Argentine cooks made their own in the mid-20th century; despite the name, you won't find it in Sorrento. Every fresh-pasta shop in Buenos Aires province sells them by the dozen on Sunday mornings, and the squash version, with roasted calabaza, ricotta and nutmeg, is the most loved. The filling is sweet and soft, the pasta thin but sturdy, and the sauce is either brown butter with sage or a plain tomato filetto. The classic mistake is boiled squash: it carries too much water, the filling weeps and the parcels burst in the pot, so the squash is roasted until dry and caramelised. Grated hard cheese is usually made with animal rennet; choose a vegetarian hard cheese if needed. Chef's tip: chill the filling until firm before you shape it; a cold, stiff filling is far easier to seal without air pockets.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Budín de pan

Thrifty Argentine kitchens never throw away stale bread: it becomes budín de pan, soaked in sweet milk and eggs, poured into a caramel-lined ring mould and baked in a water bath until it sets into something between a flan and a pudding. Bodegones in Buenos Aires and neighbourhood bakeries serve it in fat wedges, cold, with a spoonful of dulce de leche or whipped cream, the amber caramel running down the sides. The texture should be smooth and dense with only faint traces of bread, studded with plump raisins. The mistake to avoid is skipping the blending or soaking: chunks of dry bread turn into wet sponges and the pudding splits into layers. Chef's tip: let it cool and chill overnight in the mould before turning it out; a warm budín breaks when unmoulded and the caramel won't have melted into a sauce.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Postre vigilante

Ask for dessert in an old Buenos Aires bodegón and the waiter will rattle off flan, budín and, inevitably, vigilante: a thick slab of soft, mild cheese laid beside an equal slab of dulce de membrillo or dulce de batata. The name, "policeman", is said to come from the beat officers who ordered it as a cheap sweet in early twentieth-century cafés; Uruguayans call the same plate Martín Fierro. It is salty against sweet, creamy against firm, and takes five minutes. The traditional cheese is fresh queso cremoso or cuartirolo, or a firmer port salut; a young Havarti or mild Gouda is the best stand-in abroad. Like many soft cheeses, these are often made with animal rennet, so check the label for a vegetarian (microbial-rennet) cheese. The usual error is cutting the slabs thin like a cheese board; vigilante is about generous, equal bricks. Chef's tip: take the cheese out of the fridge 20 minutes ahead; cold cheese tastes of nothing next to the paste.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Anchi

Sold in plastic cups from coolers at Salta's Mercado San Miguel and on village plazas at the end of a hot afternoon, anchi is a thin, sweet pudding of fine maize semolina cooked with water, sugar and plenty of lemon. It sets only softly, so it is half eaten and half drunk, cold and refreshing, often with slices of poached peach or a few rehydrated orejones (dried peaches) on top, and sometimes a dusting of cinnamon. There's no milk or egg in it, which is what keeps it light. Too much semolina is the easy error: anchi should pour slowly from the spoon when cold, not slice like polenta, so stick to the ratio and remember it thickens as it cools. Fine maize semolina is the Salta choice; fine wheat semolina works too. Chef's tip: add the lemon juice off the heat at the end; boiled lemon loses its fresh sharpness.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Salsa golf

Mar del Plata's golf club gave its name to this sauce in the 1920s, so the story goes, and Argentines have been mixing mayonnaise and ketchup ever since. It is the pink sauce of the 1970s cocktail party and the seaside: spooned into half avocados (palta a la golf), over hearts of palm, onto a cold hard-boiled egg, beside fries or into a prawn cocktail, and every family has its own ratio. A drop of lemon and a dash of mustard lift it from a simple mix to something tangy and creamy. Too much ketchup is the misstep that turns it sweet and orange; it should be a soft salmon pink. Use shop-bought mayonnaise, which is made with pasteurised egg; if you make your own, use pasteurised eggs. Check the labels of the mayonnaise, ketchup and mustard if you need it gluten free. Chef's tip: let it sit in the fridge for 15 minutes before serving; the flavours blend and it thickens slightly.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Zapallitos rellenos

Round green zapallitos, the size of a tennis ball, pile up at every verdulería in Buenos Aires from December to March, and stuffing them is how home cooks turn a cheap summer vegetable into a main course. The shells are blanched, hollowed and refilled with their own flesh fried with onion and red pepper, bound with egg and melting cheese, and topped with breadcrumbs that bake to a crunchy lid. Expect a soft, savoury, slightly creamy filling under a golden crust; serve two per person with a tomato and onion salad or white rice. Overcooking the shells in the first boil is the trap: they collapse in the oven and leak water, so they only get 4 minutes. Round courgettes, eight-ball squash or short fat courgettes all work. The cheeses are usually made with animal rennet; swap in vegetarian versions if needed. Chef's tip: squeeze the chopped flesh in a clean cloth before frying it; drier filling means a firmer, tastier stuffing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tortilla al rescoldo

Puesteros in the hills of Salta and the Calchaquí valleys bake this bread the oldest way there is: a thick disc of plain dough laid straight onto the hot ash at the edge of the fire, covered with more embers and dug out 20 minutes later with a crust that is blistered and smoky and a crumb that is dense and soft. You brush off the ash, break it with your hands and eat it with goat's cheese, a mate or a bowl of locro. The traditional fat is lard (grasa); this version uses butter or vegetable shortening so it stays vegetarian. Laying the dough on flaming wood instead of a bed of settled grey embers is the mistake that burns the outside black before the middle cooks, so wait until the fire has died back. No fire? A dry cast-iron pan and a hot oven give you a close result. Chef's tip: knock the bread on its base when you lift it out; a hollow sound means it is cooked through.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lomito completo

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

Ensalada de papa y huevo

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

Polenta con tuco

Tuco is what Argentines call the red sauce of their Italian grandparents, and spooned over a mound of soft polenta it is one of the most ordinary, best-loved cold-weather suppers in Buenos Aires and across the pampas. On Sundays the sauce often gets a piece of beef; this is the everyday meatless version, with onion, red pepper, carrot, bay and a long simmer that turns the tomato sweet and deep. The polenta is enriched with butter and cheese until it falls off the spoon like thick custard. The most common mistake is pouring the cornmeal into the water all at once, which gives you lumps you will never beat out, so rain it in slowly while whisking. Grated hard cheese is usually made with animal rennet; choose a vegetarian one if needed. Chef's tip: make the tuco first and let it rest off the heat while the polenta cooks; even 15 minutes of standing rounds out its flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Quesillo con miel de caña

In the Tafí del Valle hills above San Miguel de Tucumán, quesillo is made by stretching hot curd into long, thin, elastic sheets and folding them into flat rounds; along the road up from the city, stalls sell it beside jars of miel de caña, the dark syrup boiled from the juice of Tucumán's sugarcane. Put the two together and you have the province's simplest dessert: mild, milky, slightly squeaky cheese with a pour of syrup that tastes of molasses and caramel, plus walnuts for crunch. It is eaten after lunch or as a merienda with mate. Drowning the cheese is the usual misstep; the syrup is intense, so pour a ribbon, not a puddle. Real quesillo is hard to find abroad: fresh mozzarella, Oaxaca cheese or another fresh stretched-curd cheese is closest, and light cane syrup or a 2:1 mix of golden syrup and black treacle stands in for miel de caña. Most of these cheeses use animal rennet; choose a vegetarian one if needed. Chef's tip: warm the syrup slightly so it runs into the folds of the cheese.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Trucha a la manteca

Restaurants on the shores of Nahuel Huapi, in Bariloche and Villa La Angostura, put rainbow trout from the cold Andean lakes on almost every menu, and this butter version is the one locals order most. Fillets are fried with crisp skin, then drenched in butter browned with flaked almonds and sharpened with lemon. Serve with boiled new potatoes and a green salad. Any trout or char works. People commonly start the fish in butter, which burns before the skin crisps; fry it in a film of oil and make the brown butter after. Chef's tip: dry the skin really well and dust it with rice flour; it gives a thin, glassy crust without any gluten.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pollo al disco

Out on the estancias of the Pampas, the disco de arado (an old plough disc welded onto legs) is set over a wood fire for long weekend lunches, and chicken braised in it is one of the most loved dishes: pieces browned in the wide, sloping pan, then cooked down with onions, peppers, garlic, paprika and a splash of white wine until the sauce is sweet and glossy. Friends stand around the fire with bread for dipping. A large, heavy casserole or wok on the hob does the job at home. The recipe uses white wine; for an alcohol-free version, use the same amount of chicken stock plus 1 tablespoon of white wine vinegar. Chicken must reach 74 °C at the thickest part near the bone. The common mistake is piling everything in at once, which boils the chicken pale, so brown it well first. Chef's tip: push the browned chicken up the sloping sides while the vegetables cook in the centre, as disco cooks do; in a casserole, lift it onto a plate.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Cazuela de cabrito

Up in the Calchaquí valleys of Salta, where goats graze between the vineyards and the cardón cactus, cabrito ends up in a heavy clay cazuela on Sunday or feast days. The meat simmers with onion, red pepper, cumin and ají molido until it slides off the bone, and the potatoes and thick rounds of corn on the cob drink up a brick-red, gently spiced broth. Bring it to the table in the pot with bread or a simple tomato and onion salad. Kid goat can be ordered from halal butchers and some farm shops; lamb shoulder works too. People often boil it hard to save time, which squeezes the lean meat dry and stringy; it wants the barest simmer. Chef's tip: brown the pieces in two or three batches so they colour properly instead of stewing in their own juices; that browning is where most of the flavour comes from.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pizza canchera

No cheese at all: that is the whole point of pizza canchera. Vendors walk the terraces at Buenos Aires football grounds with a wicker basket of these thick rectangles wrapped in paper, and the name comes from la cancha, the pitch. Because it is eaten at room temperature, the topping is a heavy, garlicky tomato paste, almost jammy, with dried oregano, a pinch of ají molido (crushed red chilli) and a good slick of olive oil; the base underneath is soft, a little oily and chewy, more focaccia than Neapolitan. Today it also turns up at kids' parties and on Sunday tables as a snack before the asado. Where people slip up is the sauce: a thin, watery sauce soaks the dough and turns it soggy by the time it has cooled, so the tomato has to be cooked down until a spoon leaves a trail. Chef's tip: cut it into squares only once it has cooled for 15 minutes; it will hold its shape like the slices sold in the stands.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tortitas negras

Black cakes, the name means, though only their tops are dark: tortitas negras are flat, round, flaky buns covered with a thick crust of dark brown sugar that melts in the oven and sets crunchy and toffee-like. They are among the cheapest and most popular facturas in Buenos Aires bakeries, eaten from a paper bag at breakfast or as a merienda with mate, and everyone fights over the sugary edges. The dough is a lightly laminated yeast dough, between bread and puff pastry. Bakeries often use lard or margarine; this version uses butter and stays vegetarian. Being stingy with the sugar is the classic misstep: a thin layer just melts into the dough and disappears, so pile it on thickly and press it down. Chef's tip: brush the rounds with water, not egg, before adding the sugar; the water melts the sugar into a crisp, crackling shell.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Hongos de pino en escabeche

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

Showing 48 of 133 recipes

Show more recipes

Page 2 of 6