Christmas with Chris Botti

Red wine. Dark Chocolate. Roast Chicken. Snow. Ice Skating. Hot Chocolate. Presents. Cards. Santa. Love Actually. The ingredients that make the perfect Christmas. Ok fine. And Baby Jesus.

The cherry on top though, is spending Christmas listening to Chris Botti and his friends. Every year, during the christmas holidays all the way till new year, Chris Botti, probably the most amazing trumpet player in the history of mankind, spends his nights at Blue Note Jazz Club New York City, with his pool of highly talented friends, namely Lisa Fisher who sang with the Rolling stones and Aurica Duca, the most enchanting violinist I have ever heard. Just imagine a stage oozing with raw talent. No autotuning. Just raw great music that touches your heart and soul. A night with Chris Botti is truly an experience.

So as I sip my beer and munch on my fried calamari, I allow my soul to be immersed in the god given gift of music, the purest, most amazing form. Jaw dropped. Mouth wide opened. Goosebumps all over. With not a worry in the world. For this world may be flawed and disintegrating, but beauty lies in the expression of emotions in chaos.

Chris Botti is an american trumpeter and composer. You can find him playing in Blue Note Jazz Club located in Greenwich Village, NYC (131 W 3rd Street) every christmas holidays till New Year.  

Amidst much disappointment in Uruguay, there is always something I can go back to to remind me about how fortunate and amazing it is to be in Uruguay - CHIVITOS! 

As I was recovering from my stupid stomach flu in the crappy hostel I was living in in Montevideo, I was surfing the net looking for interesting places to eat. I stumbled upon a place where apparently Anthony Bourdain visited for lunch. I quote:

“The first thing I need to talk about is the chivito, because it’s the best sandwich I’ve tasted in my life, including the venerated & thousand times described pastrami sandwich of New York and the mortadella and cheese sandwich from the market of Sao Paulo, Brazil. Really, the chivito is too good to be true; it’s almost impossible to eat because of how tall it is. Moreover, the idea of putting together beef, bacon, ham and cheese in the same bite, without counting all the other things it contains, is incredible. What’s more, in the US you could be arrested for daring to eat something like this. For me, any country that embraces this as its national sandwich is great!”

So I visited the same place Bourdain went to. Again, google map gave me the wrong location, so I ended up being about 15 blocks away from the right place. But when I got there, I knew it was worth it. The picture on the signboard got my heart racing. It was just a magnificent looking burger. 

I went over to the counter and say about 6 kinds of sauces and 6 different kinds of topping like mushroom and peppers. I ordered one and the chef asked me whether I wanted bacon and ham. I got so excited I just kept saying “Si!” And thats all I kept saying.

Peppers. Si. Mushrooms. Si. Olives. Si. Basically I just kept saying si like a greedy american. And what I ended up with was a glorious tall sandwich that made me smile, so perfectly stacked that I can’t believe it isn’t falling apart just looking at it. I looked at the fork and knife given to me and decided, screw this, I’m eating my burger the traditional way. I then attempted to stuff the burger into my mouth, making a giant mess everywhere. 

Wow. I was in heaven. This is some crazy burger. A fresh slice of beef, layers of ham, a bunch of bacon, topped with melt cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, and whole bunch of topping, smeared with some ketchup mayonnaise. Oh God. I’m in heaven. 

The thing is that I dont see why in the US, you will be arrested for eating this. In fact, I think people in the US should start embracing chivitos. It’s time we throw out that cheeseburgers with the frozen beef patties, and bring in a new age - the chivitos era! Seriously. This sandwich is pretty amazing.

Which of course explains why I have had one every single day I’m in Uruguay. Despite all the disappointments, all I need to have is a chivito, fritas, a cold bottle of Pilsen, and the sunny warm beaches of Uruguay, and everything is forgiven. Even that crap hostel I had to live in for 3 nights in Montevideo. 

My email to Titi

So I’m at Punta Del Diablo right now, which i think is the cutest place I have ever been to in my life! I love love love love love it. This is the kind of place i want to be in when i get sick of corporate life and want to escape from the world.

Also I am taking time to pray for your salvation. During your stay here, you must have sinned much. I swear almost every guy i see here walked right straight out of a poster or a movie. SERIOUSLY?! WTF?! Whats with the gorgeous face with the perfect hair with a kickass body?!?! I’m depress. My body is disgusting. I’m heading to the gym the moment i get back to New York. And get my hair done. And some plastic surgery. Hehe… 

Sigh. The girls. meh. I think im not that into latin american girls. Although there are some racial ambiguous ones that are gorgeous… like my room mate the other day. :D Although i have to say most of them have really good boobs. And ass. 

Derrick

My Argentinian Girl

As I was lying on the beach of La Barilla (close to Punta del Este), minding my own business, applying my tanning lotion occasionally, a girl walked up beside me with a foldable chair. She tried to open it for a minute in vain, before looking around for help. She looked deep into my eyes, and said something in spanish. I obviously had no idea what she said, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t have the word “help” in it. That one i learnt from my phrasebook. Its ayuda. :D

Anyway I got up and help her unfold it. In like a second… It was easy… She was so happy and started thanking me profusely. She then asked me “You Japanese?” I said no, and that I am Singaporean but i live in New York. At this she got really excited and told me that she was born in New York City. What a coincidence! I asked her where she lived, and she told me a city in Argentina, and that she was here for vacation. 

We then went on to talk about her love for Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney. And then she invited me to go swim with her. I said the water was too cold. (Im not kidding. It’s @#$%ing cold) She giggled and walked in the water, and said I was right and that it was cold. She then swish around, as if doing a dance for me. She then invited me to go into the water again. I gave in and just walked around the shallow area. We went back to my beach towel, and she asked me whether i liked the pepsi i was drinking. I said i didnt like it because it was warm. She then asked me something, which i couldn’t understand. We spent the next 5 minutes browsing through my phrasebook, trying to find out what she wanted to tell me. And then I realized all she wanted was to try my pepsi to see whether it was warm.

I gave her the bottle. She took a sip and said it was warm. She giggled. And then she asked me whether we could be friends. I said yes. And then she asked me whether I have facebook. Again I said yes. She got real excited. So I gave her my facebook address. 

She then went back into the water, swishing around, constantly looking at me. 

I know what you are thinking. I found myself an Argentinian girl. A thirteen year old one, who also asked me whether I watch Dora the explorer. :P True story.

A letter to Buenos Aires

To the people of Buenos Aires,

I have made several observations, which I would like to share with the world.

Firstly, you are an interesting race of people. When Asians don’t age, and white people look better as they get older, you guys age TERRIBLY. It’s hard to deny that BA is about extremes. People either look damn good or terrible. For guys, the younger they are, the better they look. And I don’t know what happens, but I don’t think I have seen an old man in BA showing any signs of looking good when young. Maybe it’s the sun and the nightlife, but I don’t see any resemblance between the young and the old. It’s as if they are two different race of people. The woman is pretty much the same, except they age sightly better.

Secondly, please teach us the way of staying in shape, eating late, drinking much alcohol, not sleeping much, and yet look amazing. Please teach the rest of us, because I sure look like a mess before my finals (plenty of stress), during my finals (lack of sleep), and after my finals (hangovers).

Thirdly, please stop destroying BA. All your vandalism and littering is destroying the lovely city you live in. And please start clearing up the dog poop and those pesky small paper shreds. Maybe you think it gives BA more character. With such good music and dance, and lovely people, you really don’t need to be dirty like NYC to gain some character. Actually I take that back. BA with that mess isn’t really BA. I don’t think it’s about being dirty. It’s about being rebellious. And that is one great character of BA.

And finally, I will miss you all, despite our inability to communicate effective. (Thank god for sign language) Perhaps try to speak slower the next time I meet you, because you guys seriously speak way too fast.

One last note: Try to be more organized! The race car opening ceremony was highly disappointing, especially since it started at 3pm when it was scheduled to start at 11:30pm. And learn to stand in line. The crowd at the ferry terminal made a terrible sendoff. Although the immigration counter where the Argentinean and Uruguay immigrations sitting next to each other made me smile.

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To be honest, I didn’t think I would enjoy BA that much. Titi kept telling me how much I will love it there. On the first day, I didn’t see how a city that is arguably dirtier than New York City where the dominant language is foreign to me could charm me.

But somehow it did. With the art, the music, the dance, the food, and finally the people – all coming together to give me a cultural experience I will never forget.

Give me two years. I will be back, this time more equipped with Espanol. So many missed opportunities to interact with the locals due to language barriers, which I can only blame myself for. Next time, there will be no more “No entiendo. No hablo Espanol.”

Derrick

Public Transport in Buenos Aires

I love how each ride cost 1 peso. A quarter USD. And in my few days of travel, I don’t think I have taken enough rides equivalent to one metro ticket of $2.25 in NYC. However, it has its shortcoming. The subway is good, except the last train ends at 10:30pm. Seriously?! For a city that starts dinner at 10pm, it seems a little ridiculous to cut the line that early. But instead, they have their buses going 24/7.

The buses though, are highly confusing. Firstly, they don’t offer much information about the bus at the stops. Some have the route in words, while most have been torn off. Basically, it’s almost impossible to know what bus to take without a guidebook. That led to much unintended walking and the constant struggle to stop myself from hailing a cab.

When I missed the last train one night, I decided to take the bus back, and that has to be one of the most exciting/scariest bus rides of my life. Constantly staring at my map and looking out to spot street signs which are mostly vandalized or missing, I obviously had a very concerned look on my face. The pregnant lady besides me said something in Spanish, which I replied I have no idea what you are saying. She giggled and mimicked me looking so intently at the map. I shook my head and laughed, and went back to staring at the map. It would have been easy if the bus just stayed on one street, but nooooooo, this bus had to make turns after every 2 blocks. Left, then right, then left, making it impossible for me to follow on the map.

Interesting side note: a person boarded the bus that looks exactly like that Indian guy from Parks and Recreation, aziz or something. I seriously still wonder whether it was him, although what is he doing in BA in a public bus?! NBC not paying him enough???

Anyway, I actually got pretty close to my hostel, and was overjoyed. So overjoyed I IMed my friends, telling them how glad I am to be alive.

Last day in Buenos Aires. And what did I decide to eat for lunch? The most international restaurant in the world. McDonalds. :P There are surprisingly many McDonalds around the city, so I figured it must be somewhat good. And also hopefully they have some local special like those interesting burgers in Hong Kong and what not. A Danish couple I was with have been raving about this burger called Tasty Big. Apparently it’s really popular in Denmark, and when I saw it on the menu, I guess I had to try it. Besides, it was the only burger on the menu that looked different. With the exception of the Triple Mac (3 patties instead of 2 in a Big Mac) Basically it was a burger with an oversized patty. Meh.

For dinner, I went to a tango show and was treated to a 3 course meal that started with some empanadas, a sirloin steak and a chocolate brownie with ice cream. I was so hungry, I forgot to take pictures. :P Again the food wasn’t too bad. The steak was somewhat overcooked for my liking. The chocolate brownie was more like a day old chocolate cake, than the usual warm fudgy brownie I’m used to. Only had a few bites before I gave up. However, with the unlimited wine, the night went well as I made a couple of new friends and bonded over our hilarious tango lesson.

Unfortunately, I didn’t take pictures of any of my meals, since none of them are really that memorable. However, the tango lesson was a lot of fun and the performance was very entertaining. So the pictures are of that. 

To conclude the food chapter, Buenos Aires is awesome for the affordable steak and wine meals. Steaks usually cost 50 peso at a fancy restaurant which is around $12.50 USD. The wine list starts at 30 peso a bottle up. That’s barely 10 bucks for a bottle. Basically a huge steak and plenty of red wine for less than 20USD. A steal. A diet that requires getting used to, especially the time issue. I actually now understand why Titi refuses to eat steak after she got back from Buenos Aires. It can be a little too much. And perhaps I need another week in BA to feel the effects of it. Unfortunately, my trip in BA has to end prematurely. Thanks to the freaking snow in New York City. Urgh. 

It’s new year’s eve and I decide to visit Recoletta, home of the famous cemetery. Near by, there is this place that apparently serves really good empanadas and stews. So I check it out. I got a spicy steak and a cheese with onions. Both were fresh out of the oven tasty. Love the crust. It was light, fluffy yet firm. I tried to order a stew, but the waitress gave me a weird look and suggested a shepherd’s pie. To be honest, I was missing potatoes. Haven’t had them for a while. I wasn’t expecting much, but it was actually really good. The sauce the meat was drenched in under the potatoes was very unique to me. I think it was some sort of red wine reduction stew with Argentinean spices. I approve.

For, because it was new year’s eve, and since my room mates hardly leave the hostel, I ended up eating pizza from the café downstairs since no one wanted to go out to get food. And while we are at pizza, I decided to snack at a pizza joint near my hostel, because it seemed so popular. There were quite a few around the city, and they were always packed with people. And guess what. Worst pizza I ever had in my life. Even worse than Singapore’s Canadian pizza. And that’s just sad. I later met two girls who work in Quito, Ecuador, as teachers who apparently had a nice dinner at a restaurant in San Telmo. I would have killed to be with them, instead of being at the hostel. Urgh. The perils of being older and more matured. All I wanted was to enjoy a meal and some red wine with the people I love. Is that too much to ask? Note to self: make a reservation at a fancy restaurant and have a great meal with best friends over wine.

On day 2, I joined a hostel tour to La Boca. As part of a tour, we were offered the option of a sausage sandwich, a meat sandwich or pasta. I think I was the only person who ordered pasta. :P Why am I eating pasta? Because I can’t eat steak consecutively. It’s too much for my little Asian body to handle, especially after 20 years of a lot of pork and chicken. Surprisingly, that pasta was good. I order rose sauce, which obviously I had no idea what it was. I think it was tomato cream sauce, but it was absolutely delicious. The fettuccini was definitely freshly made, and perfectly cooked. I have to say, this might actually be one of the best pasta I ever had in my life. In Buenos Aires. I guess they have a good Italian community here.

For dinner, I visited Palermo for this restaurant well known for its wine selection. I ordered half a steak tenderloin, ready to treat myself to a three course meal at least once in Buenos Aires. First came my salad. Then came my tenderloin. It was surprisingly small, but I wasn’t complaining. That just means more room for dessert. The waiter poured me some Malbec and the moment the wine filled my mouth, I stopped the waiter and asked to see the bottle. That has got to be one of the best red wines I ever tasted. I have tasted good Cabernet Sauvignon in Napa Valley, and was blown away at how good it was, especially since I’m not a big cabernet person. But Malbec. Malbec is my kind of wine. The kind you can sit with friends and drink all night kind of wine. Absolutely perfect. What I had next blew my mind. Recommended by the waiter, I was met by a giant tiramisu on a big plate and a small glass of malbec dessert wine. Again I tried the wine. O M G. It was like reducing a bottle of wine into that small glass. It was fruity, sweet, strong yet not overpowering. And the tiramisu. Oh my. It could have been the wine, but I swear that was one of the best tiramisu I ever had in my life. It was a perfect pairing. 

And of course, how can I not talk about the food here. When one thinks of Argentina, one also thinks of steak. And maybe the song “Don’t cry for me, Argentina.” The beef here is supposedly some of the best in the world, due to the grass-fed cows, as compared to the grain-fed ones that we usually have. Grains that create ulcers in the stomach of cows. But I am not here to encourage people to watch food inc. and turn vegan. Seriously, what is the point of living if you can’t enjoy it? It’s better to die early and live happy, than to die late and never lived before. 

So what was my diet like in Argentina?

Day 1 (12/29): Random pastries from a local bakery in San Telmo. A bunch of small alfojors, croissants and cookies. My first “meal” in Argentina. Why I didn’t have steak? Because I couldn’t find the damn restaurant I wanted to go to, and because it was getting so late (around 3+), I figured I would eat pastry and have a good dinner. Obviously that plan backfired, because I was starving again by 7 and guess what, the restaurant I went to only opens at 8! EIGHT! OCHO! WTH?? As I sat at the lobby for about half an hour, waiting to be seated, a couple from Denver came in, asking me why we were not being seated. I told them I think the restaurant only opens at 8. It was 8:15. I shrugged and we went on to talk about why on earth do people here eat so late. We had some salad and I ordered the famous asado which is grilled beef short ribs. Absolutely delicious. The seasoning was spot on. Almost as good as Peter Luger, except a fraction of the price. The only problem we had with this meal was that even though we order our meat medium rare, it came almost well done. We decided to return it to the kitchen, and were given rare in return. The couple was happy. I was happy too because mine was more medium than rare, so phew. I don’t like rare…