If I Am to Be Grilled, Please Have an Argentinian do it

I served a "mormon" mission.  It was a spanish speaking mission in Colorado (in the US of A).  Prior to entering the "mission field" to start speaking spanish to people, I spent about two months in the Mission Training Center (the MTC).  There I was trained in speaking spanish and in doctrine and culture.  We were taught, mostly, by recently returned missionaries.  One of my MTC teachers was recently returned from a mission in Argentina.  Even though nobody in my district was going to Argentina, we were told little tid bits of cultural information and cool words (their version of "you're a stud" was "sos un capo", according to my teacher).  He also told me that Argentinians were quite full of themselves.  That they believed they were the best in the world.  Period.  

Well, being an overtly (which is not the same as being actually) humble person, a society that views itself as better than everyone else rubbed me wrong.  Yes, as an American, I am aware of the irony of that statement.  

When I graduated law school and began to seek for culinary adventure in Las Vegas, I found the Rincon De Buenos Aires, an Argentinian restaurant.  In Chinatown, of course. 

So, why the preface about the hubris of the Argentines?  Because, it isn't bragging if its true.  I am not personally acquainted with any Argentine people (that I know of).  I am, however, acquainted with their food, via Rincon de Buenos Aires.  

Argentinian food has a HEAVY italian influence.  The menu does, in fact, generally look like a standard Italian menu here in the states.  Lots of standards like gnocchi, chicken parmesan and pizza.  The main difference is the heaping helping of expertly grilled beef.  In fact, a significant section of the menu is occupied by a number of grilled platters featuring mostly types of beef.  Items like different steaks, short ribs and various sausages.  

Here is the part where I interrupt the description of the food for a delightful personal anecdote.

After going to the Rincon de Buenos Aires (which is a very long name.  It shall hereafter be known as RBA), a number of times (and ordering primarily the Lomito Completo, a steak sandwich that uses filet mignon for the steak and adds a fried egg to gild the lily as only the Argeninians can) I brought my wife and a couple of friends for dinner.  The ladies ordered some standard Italian fare - some sort of pasta.  My friend and I decided to try one of the grill options.  We ordered the one with a steak, some ribs, some sausages (one of them quite black) and "sweetbreads."  Because bread is a popular feature in the menu, my friend and I assumed we would be having some sort of grilled bread on a grill.  They served the grill items on an actual grill, brought to your table, still finishing the cooking of your food.  The black sausage was a blood sausage.  While I am somewhat adventurous, I was unable to make peace with grilled, congealed blood in a stretched out portion of intestine.  I don't remember if I even ate a bite.   Next, the sweetbreads.  I tried them, my friend tried them.  They were a mushy texture with a non-descript flavor.  I asked my friend in Spanish, "Are we eating brains?"  He wasn't sure.  Luckily, while it was early, this story occurred in the age of the smart phone.  I was able to look up sweetbreads to learn they were some  sort of gland.  Didn't finish them.  It was matter over mind that time.  We made the mistake of telling the ladies what we were eating and they were grossed out.  They haven't let us take them back since.

So, let's return to the nitty gritty (imagine this said in the voice of Ignacio, the protagonist from "Nacho Libre").  I still go there.  

 

My lack of self control meant that I did not get a picture of the bread before it was mostly gone.  But, they give you a fresh tasting part of a loaf of italian style bread.  The crust is crispy, but not too crunchy.  You are also provided a little dish of chimichurri.  Chimichurri is, I think, pure Argentina.  It is fresh, it is light, it has a tiny bit of spice.  It is a green sauce/dressing, made of oregano, garlic, some vinegar, olive oil and a bit of red pepper (to name a few).  It is very simple and VERY tasty.  You will be forgiven for wanting a couple rounds of bread with this delicious sauce before your main course (but, please don't fill up on the bread).  

 

This sandwich, whose name I don't recall, is a microcosm (in my limited experience and opinion) of Argentinian cuisine.  A sandwich on an italian-style roll, with mozzarella, a perfectly grilled steak, with some marinara sauce, lettuce and tomato.  This crazy cultural Frankenstein's monster of a sandwich is a wonder.  

Recently, my friend (a different one) and I went there for lunch.  He ordered the gnocchi.  It was beautiful:

 

Delicious gnocchi in a bolognese sauce.  Looks good, tastes better.  

Ok, this post is getting long, and I"m getting tired.  Let's get to the point.  I started this post talking about how the Argeninians are (reportedly) quite full of themselves.  How do I feel about them now?  Take a look at the steak from this sandwich:

 

Part of it looks good because of the iPhone 7's upgraded camera.  The rest is because this was a hell of a cut of steak and it was cooked so perfectly.  I don't know about you, but, I am routinely disappointed by steak sandwiches.  They are usually tough and chewy.  I feel like people who make a steak sandwich are so concerned with the sandwich's price point that they deem it impossible to use a good piece of steak and cook it properly.  At RDB they don't.  They take a delicious steak, cook it beautifully, and then adorn it with tasty bread, marinara sauce, cheese and the fixings.  

The steak, the short ribs, the lomito completo, are all so well executed.  You can taste the swagger in the steak, in the chimichurri and in the deli counter in the restaurant that says "You will like this so much you will want to take some home."  

So, are the Argentine people a bunch of cocky jerks?  Well, if they are cocky about their food, they aren't bragging, they are really that good.  If Rincon de Buenos Aires is an accurate representative, nobody knows beef like Argentina.  You should go there.