Gefilte Fish

Last night, I had one of those experiences where, in the moment, I felt as though I was exactly where I was meant to be.

Let me set the scene for you. I went to a parrilla/cafe called Delu on Corrientes, which is the main drag around here. After I checked out the menu, I decided on a matambre of pizza with a side of batatas fritas (yam fries) along with an agua sin gas. When my dish came, the yam fries looked delicious, and they were. The pizza, however, looked kinda weird. The crust looked like something that I'd never seen before. So I dug in. Turns out the crust was the matambre, which means a cut of meat from a cow. It was okay — I definitely would have prefered a bread crust, but it was edible. Since I got a little sick of the matambre toward the end, I decided to indulge in two deserts. Flan and fruit salad. Pretty good except there were seeds in the grapes. Not awesome.

Anyway, now that the scene is set — a woman who was eating with a group of people came over and started talking to me. In my broken Spanish, I was able to tell her that I was not Argentinian (I'm telling you, honestly, people assume I'm agentinian — there a ton of white people and Jews here and I really look like I fit right in). As far as the EF#1 bloggers go, I would say that Zack and Ethan and Craig could pass as native portenos. Ben, Ian, and Jon have an offchance of passing as one. Anyway, I told her where I was from and she invited me to sit with them for the upcoming show (?). I declined since I was doing my homework at the restaurant and felt a little uncomfortable joining them. So I stayed at my table toward the back of the restaurant. Soon, klezmer music began to play from some speakers in the front of the restaurant. Interesting. Eventually, the main act, Gefilte Fish, which consisted of one middle-aged woman and one middle-aged man, come out on stage and started singing the top hits from Hebrew School. Shalom Aloehem, Havanagila, Dayenu, and some others that I forget. They were very good. It's funny to travel so far away from home and find something so familiar. Oh, and it seems that the woman who spoke with me is in tight with Gefilte Fish because they gave me, the international traveler a shout-out, during their show. So that was a hoot. The audience consisted of twenty or so middle-aged jewish restaurant-goers, exactly who I would expect to be the target demographic of Gefilte Fish. It's funny that Gefilte Fish translates to Spanish too. I would expect it to be pescado de Gefilte. Oh well. More good times solo en Argentina.