Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts

Saturday, July 7, 2007

Dinner at Roberto's


Homes here in La Plata differ in building material ranging from wood and stecco to brick and concrete. They are antiquated, modern, highly stylized, simple, well-constructed, or falling to pieces. Many are rather small. It's a wonder that they can pack in so much love and hospitality in addition to the 3 ... 8 ... 14 children in each family.

Dinner at Roberto's was a great glimpse into an Argentine family. The level of affection that pervades Argentine culture is perhaps most starkly seen in the kisses with which they all greet each other here. This affection is even stronger within the household, between siblings, and parents and their children.

In stark contrast to the image of a stately or reserved father, Roberto, a former film director created a photo montage for Violeta, appropriately set to the song Pompilla. Immanuel has an extremely close relationship with Mariaemma, his mom, with whom he shares every detail of his day as soon as he gets home. Rather than shrug off hugs and feign a macho demeanor as many of the teenage boys his age do, he openly hugs and kisses his little brothers, and speaks with respect of Violeta and Juan.

Roberto and Mariaemma have given their children the freedom to choose nearly everything for themselves. Perhaps it was because they were such strong models of honesty, solidarity, humility, and moral upstanding themselves, that the children given such free reign, chose to become such strong and wise people. Undoubtedly, the openly expressed unconditional love that the parents showed them helped make them into the confident people that they are today.

Violeta and Auca

Auca

Violeta and RobertoMariaemma and Immanuel

Friday, June 29, 2007

Maté

Maté flows through the very veins of Argentines. Like a secret potion, it is carefully concocted as hot water is poured into tazas tightly packed with shredded mate leaves. And almost as if in a sacred ritual of hospitality and solidarity, the cup of maté is passed around for each person to sip heartily from a metal bombilla fashioned with a strainer.

On first sip, the maté is dark and has woodsy undertones. It is as mysterious and foreboding as Argentina’s complex and contrasting social and political scenes that draw you in on your first encounter, beckoning you to discover what lies at their cores. Its flavors are as capricious as the Argentina that transitions from fashionable metropolises in the city centers to absolute destitution, crumbling homes, open sewers, and streets strewn with trash in a matter of a few blocks.

The drink resonates with the spirit of Argentina. Mary sweetens hers with a heaping spoonful of sugar. Roberto likes his straight. Regardless, its full-bodied character inevitably emerges. And it is devastatingly bitter.