The Argentinian Smokey Medium
BBQing St. Louis Ribs the other night aroused memories of my Asado experience in Argentina; and the memory of that reminded me of the certainly unpredictable road of existence. While traveling, serendipity emerged from new people introducing more new people, places, and things; consequently introducing new people, places, and things; introducing…you get it. In business, unexpected opportunity results from never stopping the oars; continuing to row until your boat crosses a new relationship or idea. In both cases you simply don’t know what’s beyond that horizon and that’s the whole point. For both, you need the basis of a plan: to convince yourself, to convince others, to develop budgets, to get moving. However, after initiating movement you must start gathering information to change the plan before it becomes irrelevant. At some point in every curious person’s life one witnesses enough plans fail that their suspicions regarding the whole endeavor elevate. Yet, those same people know that without the plan you can never really get started.
-Sam - Miami, FL - February 2022
We exited the bus beneath soft sunlight laced with afternoon breeze. It always takes a minute to acclimatize your legs to weight and quiet your shoulders under the strain of a pack after a long bus ride. This time was no different, but our circumstances were ideal. To re-cap: we were meeting up with the brother (Pedro) of a friend (Gonzalo) we made in Oaxaca. Pedro and his partner, Eli, picked us up in a Peugeot sedan from the San Luis bus station. As we made introductions, I sat in the back seat wondering how much Spanish I would need to fake. We actually started exchanging pleasantries in the language of the other, which made everyone feel comfortable and cognizant of our mutual humility. Back at their house, we met Molly, the dog. What a character. "Basta" chorused through every room while Molly acknowledged but ignored. Somehow she still maintained the love of everyone around her!
The next day, Saturday, marked my baptism into Argentinian religion: Asado. In Oaxaca on one of our final evenings I dabbled in it with Gonzalo during a rooftop cookout; however, I did not experience the religious fervor in Argentina, where the weekend air is smoke. Archaic inconvenience defines the process: visiting the butcher shop, gathering fruit and vegetables from a stand, purchasing Leña (wood) outside on the street, stocking up on beer for set-up, cheap wine for when the beer is gone, and Malbec for dinner. Pedro, the Asador (grill master), directed the ritual. First, we prepared the food and grill. The instruments were equally anachronistic to the gathering of material. The V-shaped grates of the grill, slightly angled down toward the Asador, redirected the fat drippings, preventing flare-up and collecting the essential ingredient for Au Jus. A hand crank extended and shortened two chains attached to the grate, adjusting the height to control temperature. A separate section designated for developing coals housed a tower of Leña. Traditionally, the Asador only uses wood and one match for the fire; we cheated and added a few paper towels. Waiting patiently for the brasa (coals), a cork from a 2017 Malbec met the ground alongside empty beer bottles. The fire burned for half an hour as a bed of brasa slowly built beneath the burning wood. The bed became a mound by mid afternoon; a second Malbec cork joined the first; and we shoveled the coals, uniformly arranging them beneath the grate.
Meat followed the coals to the grill in a premeditated fashion. The sous chef at an Asado only salts the meat with Parrilla Salt - a medium coarse salt perfect for meat on fire. They then hand it to the Asador for placement on the grill. The mollejas (organs) are typically grilled first. We began with chunchulin: intestine marinated in lime juice and showered in salt. The chorizo and blood sausage followed to fill our stomachs until the Costilla (short rib rack) was ready. Everything was served as it came off the grill. The final lump of beef, Vacio, was similar to a flank steak. The meat sweats struck with ferocity but weren't enough to dissuade further consumption. The coda to the carnivorous symphony, a grilled bell pepper half with an over-easy egg cooked inside, served as a pleasant omnivorous finale.
Our contribution to the Argentinian Smokey Medium intensified while morphing from burning wood, to cooking meat, and finally to the golden haze brought on by gluttony and red wine drunkenness. This Medium constitutes a Jungian consciousness where words, laughter, and moments accumulate. It becomes tangible through the practice of its traditions and the memories contributed. I saw in that tradition something beautiful and deeply entangled with its people. They say that on weekends the weather report defines good weather as good "Asado Weather." If it defines the weather what can supersede it?.
