Fires and Grapes in Argentina
I had looked forward to visiting Argentina for a very long time. It would be my 46th country, and I had done my research for the perfect place to stay in the Mendoza wine region, followed by a visit to the capital city of Buenos Aires. After the long flight from the U.S. to Buenos, Aires. Phil and I took a regional flight from BA to Mendoza, on the western side of Argentina near the Andes Mountains. We had a 1 1/2 hour drive south to The Vines Resort in the Uco Valley, named after Chief Uco of the Huarpes, the first settlers in the area. The Vines was a beautiful property surrounded by vineyards with stunning views of the snow-capped Andes Mountains.
The restaurant, Siete Fuego (Seven Fires) is owned by the famous Argentinean chef, Francis Mallman who is known for his grilled specialties using beef, sheep, and fish from the area. My first meal was a juicy steak with chimichurri, another Argentinean specialty. It’s a sauce made from dried herbs, garlic, vinegar, and oil. It is often served in a bowl at the table to be used on anything you like. My steak had been topped with chimichurri just before coming off the grill, so it was slightly toasted into the meat. Paired with the Malbec wine from The Vines winery, and the views of sunset over the Andes, the first steak dinner in Argentina couldn’t have been better.
While Phil fly fished the next day I walked through the vineyards on the property and visited one of the wineries. A sweet girl named Virginia showed me the process of winemaking and grape blending in their winery, then she guided me to a beautiful patio in the vineyard where a table held two long rows of black wine glasses, each numbered. There were twenty glasses, and Virginia asked me to smell inside each glass and identify the aroma without looking inside. I recognized every smell, but had a difficult time identifying many of them. There was lemon, coconut, grass, star anise, coffee, and chocolate, to name a few. Virginia was marking my answers on a piece of paper, and told me I’d gotten 75% correct. I was so disappointed, but it was a great lesson in the power of the olfactory memory. Virginia also told me that most of her guests don’t do well on the test. Fortunately, I got to smell and taste several of the wines they make in the winery. Virginia explained that most of the vineyards are privately owned by people all over the world, and The Vines maintains and produces the wines for the owners.
Every Wednesday and Saturday night at Siete Fuego (Francis Mallman’s restaurant), the chefs prepare a feast of meats and vegetables cooked over numerous fires near the kitchen. All day I watched them building fires in various ways, including a large pit, a clay oven, and a double fire grill. I was particularly intrigued by the Asador, a device where chickens, pineapples, carrots, and other vegetables were hanging by string on curved poles over hot embers.
They cooked for hours, two feet above the fire below. Whole trout was packed in salt and cooking between two fires on the infiernillo, and empanadas were ready to go into the clay oven called a horn de barro. The dinner was superb, and the portions were so large we couldn’t eat it all. Dessert was grilled cake dipped in pineapple syrup served with grilled pineapple and cream. I was disappointed Chef Mallman wasn’t there, but was told he had been there the week before. He has several restaurants in South America, and I was eager to read his latest book, Mallman On Fire, which I purchased at the hotel. I spent the rest of our trip reading it from cover to cover.
Mendoza isn’t just known for its wine. The surrounding mountains and valleys provide fantastic hiking, fishing, and bicycling. Of those three, hiking was the option I chose. We hired a guide named Adrienne who owns a company called Uplift Outdoor Adventures. He took drove us through the Uco Valley to the base of the foothills of the Andes. The “moderate hike” was actually quite treacherous at times, as we climbed rocks, crossed streams, and walked steep inclines to a beautiful waterfall at the top of a mountain. It took 1 1/2 hours to get here. At the top, Adrienne made a small picnic where he taught us how to prepare the traditional drink of mate in the gourd cup. He poured the dried leaves of yerba mate into the cup and added hot water from his thermos. He inserted a metal straw and passed it to me. It was warm and delicious. It is customary for a group of people to share one mate by sipping and passing it around while adding more water to the cup.
Adrienne mentioned he was leading a sunrise horseback ride with two other guests the following morning, so I asked if I could join. Phil decided he’d rather watch the sunrise from the resort. We left the hotel at 5 am, and Adrienne drove us to a horse ranch where we mounted our horses in complete darkness. Adrienne gave the three of us a large poncho to wear since it was chilly. He lead us on his horse along a rocky path up a mountain as the sun was beginning to rise. It was a beautiful sight! After an hour of riding to the peak of a small mountain, we dismounted our horses and had a small picnic of bread, fruit, and mate. Adrienne had a small thermos of coffee too, which was my preference that early in the morning. After watching the majestic sunrise over the valley below, we mounted our horses for the descent. On the way down, my poncho got caught on a tree and my horse couldn’t understand why I was unable to move. I was in a panic, which put my horse in one too. She took off, and I went down. The poncho finally tore as I landed on the rocks below. Adrienne and the others didn’t know what had happened except that I was on the ground and my horse was without a rider. Fortunately, only my pride was hurt, and I got back on my horse after Adrienne brought her back to me. We rode the same path back to the car, and the soreness started kicking in. I had no regrets, however, because the experience of seeing the sunrise from a view very few get to see was incredible.
As we were leaving The Vines, the manager gave me a gift wrapped in brown paper. It was a set of wooden salad spoons crafted by a local artist, which she wanted me to have since I was a chef. Our driver, Sergio took us back to the city of Mendoza for a flight to Buenos Aires. Along the way he told us stories about growing up in the area, and explained various views along the way. I was fascinated by the fields of garlic, which is one of the main crops in Mendoza. Just before we arrived in the city, Sergio asked if we’d like a grilled meat sandwich made by some guys who had a tent in the median of the highway. There was a line of local laborers waiting for a sandwich prepared by three men under the tent. They showed me the small smoker where beef and pork were cooking. On a table there were bowls of condiments for the sandwich, including chopped green olives, roasted red peppers, chopped tomatoes, and onions. When it was my turn, they asked (in Spanish) if I preferred cow or pig. I chose both, and they proudly prepared my sandwich piled high with meat and all the condiments. We ate in the car, and I decided it was the best sandwich I’d ever eaten in my life. Sergio took a short detour before arriving at the airport. We parked in front of a small house and he went inside. We figured it was his house since he came out with a large bottle of tomato juice. He explained that he and his mother and wife make tomato juice every summer and bottle it to use all year. He wanted me to have one.
While many people travel to Mendoza to taste the delicious wines, I got to taste much more. Visiting with the chefs who carefully explained the process of cooking with fire, hiking up waterfalls, watching a sunrise from the back of a horse (and from the ground), receiving a gift of salad spoons, eating a sandwich in the middle of a highway, and being handed a bottle of tomato sauce made by a local family.
