Sun and Carménère in Santiago

The calf muscles began to feel the burn five minutes in as we started to pant a little and Santiago`s rooftops spilled out beneath us, hazy and bleached under a thick blanket of early evening heat, the kind that, far from beginning to cool, instead feels even heavier with the accumulated power of the day´s sun. Andean crags only half visible in the shimmer, merely a few miles away, hugging the urban sprawl of the Chilean capital. Tourists and Santiagans alike milled along with us, making the slow Sunday afternoon trudge up Cerro San Cristobal, past the zoo to the gleaming white Virgin at its peak. 

`It`s not quite a walk in the park,`I muttered breathlessly. After our week of excess in Mendoza, we had been hoping to get out hiking for one of our four days in Santiago but, with the summer heat working its way firmly into the mid-30`s, even the steep half hour skip up to one the city`s best viewpoints, felt like it would work pretty well to break us back into some kind of fitness. The Inca trail was now only two and a half weeks away, if that, and festive over-indulgence seemed to have neutralised much of the groundwork laid down in Torres del Paine only 3 weeks before.

Bright sunny Santiago

Santiago is bright and beautiful with the gleam of implied prosperity. Funny, I`d had a notion of it as grey somehow, before coming - no idea why. I knew it was one of South America`s financial hubs and that it has a reputation as expensive but had little other mental picture of it. Yet in early January, just before the full assault of high summer, when half the town flees, it was sharp, colourful and crackling with energy and youth. The five hour bus ride from Mendoza had evolved into a nine hour trip. The border crossing is the busiest along the two countries` unfathomably - endlessly - long mountain boundary line; yet somewhow the process still took some three plus hours of loitering and passport stamping as the ceaseless procession of buses lined up on either side. The inevitable lining up four rows deep in customs, our bags in front on tables for sniffer dogs to scamper up and down hunting out illicit teabags and limes. A tourist couple were busted for their Mendozan wine and chocolates -  fortunately returned to them but we shuddered slightly at the potential fate of Carmelo Patti`s Cab Sauv had we not polished it off the night before. This is why we have a strict policy of Leave No Bottle Unfinished. Really, it is. No one expects the Chilean Inquisition.

After a journey which T spent chivalrously averting his eyes from the two young women across the aisle who spent the whole trip snogging each other`s faces off (What? That was his claim, I see no reason to doubt it?!) and I managed, in another spectacular display of dimwittery, to lose my hiking boots of eight years (Yes. My boots. To add to the litany of South American losses), we pulled into the frenetic bus station. 

Beers streetside in Bellavista

And Chile! Again. Busy and bustling; somehow, confirming our tentative impressions in the South as less reserved, more boisterous, than its giant neighbour. Anxious about our delay, for this was one of the few occassions of the trip where we were lucky enough to have someone waiting for us, we needn´t have worried. Andrea, a family friend of one of our closest friends, and her husband Jean-Claude were thoroughly relaxed and South American about our tardy arrival. Within an hour of getting back to their beautiful Vitacura home in western Santiago, we were all back out the door and downtown for drinks and nibbles with a group of their friends, who welcomed the scruffy, nackered, Spanish-challenged backpackers into their midst with great kindness, chat, Piscola and tips on their country.

We spent a relaxed few days between town and our hosts´ place, where we stayed in, literally, the most comfortable room and bed of our entire travels and enjoyed Andrea and Jean-Claude`s genrous hospitality. Offering lifts and recommendations, they allowed us to make free with the kitchen and generally gave us a wonderful travel respite during our stay - ahead of the long journey north to come. I`d initially found it hard to give up the Argentinian north but we`d felt keen to do Chile justice as we wound our way towards Peru and the Incan trail booking we had for late January. In addition, while the truism goes that Chile is the more expensive South American destination, we never really found this to be true and, after five weeks of wonderful Argentinian travel, our wallets were smarting (while many prices are quite similar - from food to galleries - buses, in particular, are a world of financial pain for the backpacker across the gigantic expanse of the Land of Mate). So we had decided to go for it and make our way to the Incan heartland via the Chilean capital and then the Atacama. 

People-watching

And a great choice it was. Santiago itself felt eminently livable, perhaps accentuated by the fact we were staying with locals. Basically untouched by the recession it felt monied, dynamic and creative, with huge leafy parks stretching throughout the city and the occasional respite of a cool mountain breeze reminding you that - as everywhere in narrow Chile - you are only a few hours from either an Andean hike or the wild Pacific coastline. Art is everywhere - from sophisticated public scuplture in thronged plazas to sprawling street murals and punked-up grafitti enlivening cool avenues of street bars and cafes. 

Sitting out on the street in Bellavista, beneath the shadow of San Cristobal, over one Monday night beer that turned into three and the biggest and best pizza 5000 Chilean pesos can buy, we watched raggedly hip Santiagans with guitars slung across their backs greet one another and punk kids with blunt Gaga fringes and DIY undercuts beg a few hundred pesos from passersby to buy beer from the offlicenses. Blink and you could be in Dalston or Camden. And yet not. As with BA there is that sense of being in a hip neighbourhood of any vibrant European capital, only with a twist. The twist maybe of nights that are barely getting started by 11.30pm and of a world of open space stretching from Atlantic to Pacific beyond city walls. Of fresh ceviche and unmeasured shots and expansive skies and histories still brand new, having almost entirely displaced the older worlds that preceded them. 

Street art in Bellavista

Valparaiso views

After a few days enjoying Santiago we set out on two daytrips. The first was to Valparaiso, a famed port town, now filed somewhat under faded glory but still attracting hordes of daytrippers and less than two hours bus ride away. Like many seaside towns, it has that odd alchemy of idyllic coastal views and mystique mixed with melancholic seedy underbelly. Unemployment is the highest here of anywhere in Chile and warning of muggings and pickpocketing abound. But it also is also wildly colourful, edgy and quaint, with its ancient Ascensor lifts linking the coastal strip with the Cerros above - and is pretty much a photographers dream. Whether pacing the portside streets or riding the creaking, antiquated lifts up into the scenic heights above, it is hard to resist the contrasts. We wandered and checked out the views. We stopped for a glass of Emilia white wine with a gloomy, misanthropic sommelier who told us how tourism had plummeted this year - and then ran out cursing as it transpired a fire up the coast in upmarket Vina del Mar had wiped out all power for the afternoon and the already struggling restaurants and cafes were now stuck with freezers full of un-ordered and slowly defrosting meat in the 36 degree heat.

This did, on a mercenary note, make for an afternoon sale on ice cream. And thus also became the day on which I, a 32 year old woman, would proceed to pick up a melting fistful of dropped chocolate and vanilla ice cream from the dirty and baking Valparaiso pavement and deposit it back in the cone to eat. Twice. To the amusment of all onlookers. Ah, seaside towns - so beguiling and yet so forlorn.

Our second trip was, you guessed it, into wine country. Afte a week of intensive initiation into Argentinian grapes we could hardly, we reasoned, hold our heads up among the proud Chilean people without offering the same courtesty to the wine regions that kicked off the boom in South American vines. Indeed, how otherwise could we hold our heads up among the East London Kurdish corner stores when buying our Friday night Casillero del Diablo in future? Ironically, visiting these wineyards felt less accessible to the independent traveller than those just across the border. After rejecting various organised tours which tended to be costed high in US dollars and to largely be PR exercises for individual wineries, we fomed a plan to visit Colchagua. Further south from the capital than the more obvious pick of Maipo, it was recommended by everyone from Andrea`s friends to sommeliers in trendy Lastarria`s BocaNariz. The latter is a new Santiagan wine bar we sought out on our first night for tasting and tips. More bar than tasting room, in comparison to Vines of Mendoza, it is nonetheless a superbly stocked homage to the humble Chilean grape, with a mind-boggling menu wall and knowledgable staff. We each did a mini-tasing and grilled an overworked waiter on his top picks for Colchagua.

`I`ll have what they`re having. All of them.` The glory that is the Bocanariz Wall of Wine.

So armed with a train timetable and Googlemaps we planned a manageable assault. The train (in South America! Novelty!) would get us into San Antonio from where we would taxi to our first vineyard and then onto another two, which looked vaguely walkable. So appointments were made and we rose at 5am to make the 7am train. Yes. As we dragged ourselves up in the dark, we wondered how it was we kept finding ourselves up at dawn in order to go drinking. I couldnt help but think of the Leytonstone aloholics I`d always see in the little square near our first London rental, as I popped out before 9am for the morning paper: `You`ve got to admire their work ethic,` I`d comment to T.

Somewhow despite the hour to spare, we were over 20 minutes for our first appointment, as our cab driver finally turned down a long, rustic lane towards the Neyen property. Not for the first or last time, we`d got ourselves tense and concerned about our lateness - having had to beg our way into a 10am slot, the second visit now potentially being pitched back, the rudeness, oh the rudeness... - only to find our hosts sat serene and unphased in the shade of the winery, alongside rows of vines extending in all directions, still languid in the morning light. They didn`t care, of course. No one in South America does. And no one in India ever did either. Funny how long it takes you to shake off your uptight Anglonorms about punctuality nonetheless.

The Neyen wine estate in Colchagua

Neyen was stunning, perhaps the most quietly, unobtrusively beautiful vineyard we`ve been lucky enough to visit, with the most personalised attention. Our guide explained, to our suprise, that Neyen only produce a single wine, a blend of Carménère and Cabernet Sauvignon, thereby preserving a small scale boutique ethos. Our guide, a part time wine specialist who worked as an English teacher most of the year, led us on a very individualised tour around the vines and cellars, finishing in a gorgeous tasting room that channels a medieval French chateaux, all chic and underplayed grandeur, where we awaited the Espiritu de Apalta with slight apprehension. With just one line, and only ourselves on the tour, there was kind of nowhere to hide if it turned out to be underwhelming. But any pressure melted away with the first sip, a complex and smooth blend, all too melt-in-the-mouth perfect for a measured morning tasting in fact. We duly purchased two bottles, one for T`s birthday, only a few days away, and another for our hosts in Santiago. Topping off a touchingly personal service, Roxanne, our initial contact, turned up with a place of cheeses, olives, nuts and ham. Then, on learning we planned to walk up to Montes (we`d already realised, passing it on the way during the unfurling jungle heat of the day, that the country stroll we had envisaged looked set to be more of an hour-long sweaty trek), our guides loaded us into Roxanne´s little car and we bumbled up the road to the neighbouring winery.

The idyllic terrace at Montes

Montes is one the region`s bigger boys, set in an almost ridiculously scenic stretch of the valley. Our Neyen guides set us down by the cafe patio in which our lunch was booked and, bidding us farwell, left us welcomed into the schoolmarmish cheer of Maria. Within our larger tour group of eight, we investigated the deep and endearing eccentricity of a vineyard much more commercially aware and present than the one we had just left, but no less full of character. Angels - the vineyard`s motif - and Feng Shui principles abound in the complex and after checking out the roof-level pipes from which grapes are funnelled down into the bowels of the winery, we were shown into the `choir`of the barrel room. Here, the oaking wines lie in rest, spread out in an eerily silent, back-lit orchestra of theatricality, facing glass-fronted tasting rooms. 

Line `em up lads,,,,

Before retiring us to the terrace for lunch, Maria then led the group through the most impressive tasting of all our visits: a well-guided trip through five or six of the Montes range, talking through what we were picking up, our preferences and what we would select to eat with each. By 1pm at Cafe Alfredo, lunch was then a tomato risotto and crab soup, respectively, paired with a Merlot and Chardonnay from the range. Dragging ourselves only reluctantly from the indulgently, impossibly pretty scene before us - and not before polishing off another glass each - we prepared for the long, hot walk further on to Lapostelle.

Barely had we made it out to the road, through the robust and fragrant workshops of vines fronting the Montes estate, than we were picked up by the German-Polish couple from our tour. Not yet realising we would later pay for all this good travel karma, we waved them goodbye thankfully from the gates of Lapostelle ten minutes later. Perhaps our most eagerly anticipated destination, the estate stretched out before us as we squinted up into the early afternoon glare. Assuming we might take a stroll or cool off in the shade for the 40 minutes before our tour began, we quickly realised this was not to be as staff in the agricultural office gestured us up into the rolling hills beyond. A-ha, we said, twigging finally the suprise of the security guy who had checked our names off as we wandered into the estate on foot. Glancing up at what can only be described as a Bond Villain´s lair in the distance, we set off purposefully along the long dusty, vine-side path. 

In a cooler clime this would perhaps have been a pleasant 20-25 minutes stroll, hand in hand, as we mused on the beauty before us. However, in what was becoming a 36 degree 2.30pm sauna, almost entirely exposed to the roiling heavens, it evolved into something of a suicide mission; days, weeks passing as I draped my scarf around my head like a Rajhasthani construction worker and we drew perplexed glances from workers driving up and down the grounds in their shaded two-seater buggies. Reaching the hills after 1000 Arabian nights, we faced a steep final scramble up to Dr No´s compound and arrived predictably sweat-drenched and beetroot red into the serene haven of Lapostelle - to the incredulity of staff accustomed to smart khaki-clad tourists who arrive in aircon rental cars. Ever the scruffbags...

Lapostelle is grand and stylish, both cutting edge and rustic. 60 seasonal workers join the ranks to de-stem the entire crop by hand each harvest (Ìt´s crazy,`our guide remarked matter-of-factly, shaking his head, `Nobody does this´), while in the main hall steaming vats glisten like cryogenic units awaiting Silicon Valley millionaires. The secret is the rock, he explained to us, showing us the exposed flint embedded into the building, further down its concentric levels; working to infuse the grapes with a heady and complex minerality. Descending further, we and our Dutch and Australian comrades audibly gasped at a glimpse of the private collection of French owner Alexandra Lapostelle (heiress to the Marnier business) - a dungeon treasure trove of over 8000 archived bottles reached by a staircase from the cellar/ tasting room. ´Locked,`I shook my head ruefully at the Australian woman, on trying the gate, and we snapped our fingers with regret. Meanwhile, in the tasting itself, the Chardonnay again was something of a revelation.

Tasting room at Lapostelle, Here be greatness.

The three visits were splendidly different, highlighting the astounding diversity we were discovering between vineyards only a few kilometres apart - and whose vines often stopped within a few hundred metres of one another. The day had also been wildly informative, with much more personalisation than we had tended to find in Mendoza, leaving us as soaked in the detail as in the wines themselves. So finally, after a week and a half of intensive tasting and touring, I felt both my knowledge bank and palate had grown. We knew the difference made by a French or American oak (and even, unthinkably, that made by a Chinese or Russian oak - experiments at Luigi Bosca still ongoing...) And we actually had relevant questions by this stage as well as a bank of tasting notes. Imagine.

Valparaiso tipple

After a perfect day, right down to the lift we secured from the Dutch couple back to Santa Cruz (we were effectively hitchhiking the Apalta Valley by this stage), our luck turned as our already late 8.30pm train back to Santiago packed up and our poor Spanish only barely kept us abreast of developments and options as the angry and stranded Chilean crowd harangued train staff. Buses finally wheeled in at around 11pm, making for a 2am return to Vitacura. Truly a karmic bitchslap in the face of our 9.30am bus tickets to San Pedro de Atacama - some 20 plus road hours away - the following morning. 

Still - that will sober you up after a hard day on the wine trail. And ever our saviours, Andrea and Jean-Claude duly loaded us up into the car the next morning for door-to-door bus station service as we set off for the dry lunar landscapes of the Atacama.

Mendoza - 7 steaks in 7 days

As many of you know, I am fortunate enough to have a beautiful, witty and supportive vegetarian girlfriend. Going out with a carrot-muncher has had its health benefits for me as many of my days are spent diving into lovingly-made bean enchiladas or spanakopitas: tasty nutritious food that is filling and hasn´t involved any abbatoir slaughter in its making.

But in Argentina, steak is king. The cow is everywhere. Not just its meat, but its ribs, kidneys, intestines, sweetbreads and even brains can be brought to your table. And so, having tried a smattering of parilla restarants, we arrived in Mendoza. Not only do they have steak here, but it is the best climate in the world for producing Malbec wine - the best accompaniment for grilled meat dishes. What are the chances?!

And so it was, that I took the plunge, slackened my belt and stared cold and hard into my Mendoza days: it was to be steak, all the way. And for you veg. lovers out there, there´s a note on what Mhairi had too..

Day 1: Steak Me, I´m Yours

The Place: Maria Antonieta, 1069 Belgrano. www.mariaantonietaresto.com

Mhairi at Maria Antonieta

We stumbled into this new restaurant that sparkled with Soho cool. Its white-tile/black paint decor balanced with minimalist but comfortable wooden tables and bright, colourful napkins in a Cath Kidston style. This was not a grill restaurant, but the very latest addition to Mendoza´s eating establishments and run by the niece of the 1884´s owner Francis Mallman (see Day 5). She´s travelled widely in the big cities of the world so the food was modern looking, with a short menu of 5-10 starters and mains and a few desserts. Before we get into the real deal, the starters are worth a mention: my mushroom, fennel and parmesan salad was sublime, like a savoury cheesecake, with some lemon citrus flavours making it more-ish. Mhairi´s smoked aubergine and cheese dish hit the spot too, and was wonderfully presented.

Steak with fresh chimichurri salsa

The Steak: In keeping with the restaurant, this was a small (for Argentine standards) rib-eye steak at about 250g with a fresh chimichurri style salsa drizzled on it. The meat was tender and had been grilled well, to melt in the mouth. Though lacking some of the barbecue flavours from parrilla style restaurants, the seasoning and sweet roundness from the salsa made it top class.




Mhairi had: Linguine with pesto. Only a couple of options, but filling and high quality.

The Wine:  was a victim of iPod´s autocorrect, now listed only as "Sin fil". It was a good 2011 Malbec with dry fruit and a quality I still call "something of the farmyard"...


Day 2: Burnt at the Steak
The Place: Camping Suizo Grill. El Challao, www.campingsuizo.com.ar
Without a reservation for NYE we planned to grill. But with little recent barbecue experience, we had to practice, and check that the beef locally was up to scratch! So we went to our local little shop in El Challao and bought steak from the old man in the corner with his meat counter. Camping Suizo is mostly frequented by Argentines and other South Americans, so the grills were big, and ready to use, and we set ourselves up with a metric-ton of charcoal to generate some real HEAT. Cue singed eyebrows and burnt fingers as I cooked up a storm...

The Steak: It´s official... London restaurants aren´t scamming you, the chefs aren´t rubbish: simply - Argentine beef, fresh from the cows in the pampas tastes amazing. Nothing else can explain how my first attempt at a bife de chorizo on the camp grill ended so succulent, tender and tasty. 400g of barbecue grilled meat, done medium-rare with plenty of salt and pepper seasoning. The charcoal flavoured outer part gave way to a juicy and soft centre that filled the mouth and made my eyes roll back into my head with pleasure.

Mhairi had: Barbecued vegetables - red onion, aubergine and peppers with chilli and black pepper seasoning. 

The Wine: After a full day on the wine in Maipu, we opted for beer in the evening. A good cold Schneider lager...

Day 3: Steak control...

The Place: Andeluna Vineyards, Tupungato, http://www.andeluna.com.ar/

Andeluna tasting room

Part of the excellent, if pricey, tour through Ampora Wine Tours, lunch at Andeluna was set against the stunning backdrop of Andean mountains in the Uco Valley in a designer bodega. We met tourists turned away from the gates as they hadn´t booked in advance. Our little tour of eight people was up for a 5 course tasting menu, with Andeluna wine flight.  The restaurant was full of genteel wood and brick with big, plush tables and chairs. A high ceiling and views out to the valley lent a sense of grandeur to the place: the food was good but served as more of a focus for pairing the wine.

View out from Andeluna restaurant

The Steak: Filet mignon of around 200g. This was a good steak, don´t get me wrong. It felt like it had been pan-fried in a little butter, so more of a French style. Paired with a good wine, and as part of a longer tasting menu  it was tasty, filling and the good quality beef ensured it remained tender, if a touch overdone for rare. Overall, it couldn´t quite match the actual French steaks I´ve had in the past where fillet steaks are one of their culinary dark arts...

Mhairi had: Baked goat´s cheese on a bed of leafy greens.

The Wine: Pasionado Malbec, 2011. I´d had about 20 wines by this point. It was good, I remember, but no detailed description remains....

Day 4: Steak-ation
The Place: Camping Suizo Grill 
Well, you know the drill. Same grill, different day - New Year´s Eve and a national holiday the next morning for the World. And that meant better wine, and some luxe ingredients. Mhairi had hit up the central market in Mendoza for provoleta cheese and I also added a pork chorizo sausage to the steak ensemble. We fired up the grill, and toasted UK New Year at 9pm and local New Year 3 hours later.

The Steak: Lesson learnt. I´d tried to economise on charcoal, as last time the barbecue singed my eyebrows and burnt late into the night. With less coal, the colder barbecue took longer to cook the steak. It was still great: the quality doesn´t go away, but it was just a little less juicy than the first effort.

Mhairi had: Provolone cheese and barbecued mediterranean veg. The Provolone cheese is a revelation. Who has been hiding it from us? A very hard and chewy cheese when cold, it´s perfect for the barbecue as it softens, takes on the smoky flavors, and it a lovely gooey mouthful.

The Wine: Gimenez Riili, Malbec Reserva, 2009. Stunning wine, with its plum and cherry fruitiness lasting long in the mouth by strong tannins. Again, an UCO valley wine, so the notes of stone and dry spice from the higher altitude and thinner soil are present. We love this wine. http://www.gimenezriili.com/files/vintage/gr_ft_grr_ma09_en_0712.pdf

Day 5: Mis-Steak

The Place: Downtown, Avenida Sarmiento, to the right of Azafran as you look at it.

Not to moan too much about Azafran next door, but they told us they were fully booked and we then proceeded to watch their tables remain empty while we ate. We´d been chatted up by the waiter/fluffer guy on the door at Downtown the day before, and with hungry bellies we reasoned it couldn´t be too bad an option. We were more or less right. No pictures for this one...

The Steak: A massive hunk of cow, in true Argentine style - maybe 600g. I asked for medium rare, but it had mostly moved to medium-well, with some fleshy pink bits remaining in the middle - again traditional Argie style. The grill flavours came through nicely, and in any home cooked meal, this would be a feast. Thrown on the plate as it was, and with 3 great steaks already done, this one just didn´t cut it. Chips were awful.

Mhairi had: Margherita pizza. Her initial comment after seeing it then taking a bite: "This doesn´t taste as bad as I thought it would"

The Wine: Bianchi, Don Paulo Estate Malbec 3011. Again the plum, very light drinkable wine, with more top of mouth tannins than anything else and a slight medicinal aftertaste. Alright.

Day 6: Steak through the Heart
The Place: 1884 Francis Mallman, Godoy Cruz, http://1884restaurante.com.ar/

Mhairi - grill and oven behind. Check out how much wood!

Ok, it is full of American tourists. OK, it costs a bomb and actually if you get stuck inside rather than in the garden, the atmosphere ain´t anything special. But the location is incredible: walking through the huge vaulted gatehouse, right into a well stocked bar before having an aperitif on the lawn - well, it´s amazing. The black iron grill and oven are outside for you to marvel at as you sip your drinks, and dinner outside in the fading Mendoza light is beautiful. And the food? Well the starter for me was barbecued chicory and wild mushrooms fried in butter. A lovely smoky and bitter vs. rich and unctuous combo on my plate. Mhairi had a salted pear and burrata cheese dish - they agreed to take the bacon out just for her.

The Steak: An incredible rib-eye weighing in at around 400g. Real charcoal barbecue flavour deeply ingrained into the crust, with the perfect medium-rare flesh: sweet and soft inner meat balancing the salty-smoky outer. They kindly swapped the patagonian potato side for avocado salad too.

Mhairi had: pumpkin and mascarpone ravioli: which were excellent, so I stole one. Lots of veggie choices on the menu in general.

The Wine: Bodega Rutini - La Rural, Anthologia IX, 2001. Malbec, Cab., Syrah blend. Pushed the boat on this one. Great plum and violets with herbaceous and mint tones. Really complex and beautiful wine, but probably not worth the cash unless you´re really into your wines. http://www.bodegaslarural.com/fch_fr_antologiaIX.htm

Day 7: Steak-Out

The Place: Lagarde, , www.lagarde.com.ar

sexy starter...

Recommended for lunch by the Vines of Mendoza team, we were not disappointed. The small and intimate outdoor courtyard setting was exceptionally picturesque and relaxing. The seats all faced the middle where the small grill and tiny outdoor kitchen were in plain view, as the chef and his one assistant cooked and plated all the dishes for around 10 diners. Little amuse-bouche came out, as did some high quality empanadas. Mhairi´s vegetarianism was accommodated at every turn. Book in advance!

Watching the Lagarde steak being cooked...

The Steak: I watched the guy cook it, and it was great. A 300g sirloin steak served on a wooden block with grilled tomato. The more fibrous sirloin was a nice change after so many softer rib-eyes, and again the quality of those cows gave it what´s now called a good "mouthfeel" I think... Anyway, see the picture. Sorry it´s a bit out of focus, Mhairi took the photo and, well, she prefers the tomato.

Mhairi had: pan-fried gnocchi with corn and cheese. Much better than its simple description here, it was fried over the barbecue to add more smoky depth to its character.

Mhairi´s photo of the Lagarde tomato, with steak in background

The Wine: Lagarde, Guarda blend, Malbec/CabSauv/Merlot/Syrah. Somewhat skeptical of blends of large numbers of grapes, but we ended up preferring this to their Malbec DOC. A very full bodied wine that manages to balance all the grape flavours within it.








Missed-Steaks:
There is an army of steak offerings in Mendoza. With Downtown crashing an almost perfect 7 steaks, I could only swap in one other restaurant. If Azafran had been more reasonable, I´m sure it would have pulled out a good´un. Anna Bistro is also getting rave reviews but it was closed on New Year´s Day when we went looking for it. Next time Mendoza!
www.azafranresto.com/home.html
http://www.annabistro.com/

This was how we looked on the last night in Mendoza. Not too fat from all the steaks, clutching a Carmelo Patti bottle... Time to reduce the steak intake...

New Year in Mendoza: Adventures in Argentinian wine

Ah Mendoza, Mendoza, where to begin?

We arrived from an underwhelming week in Bariloche over Christmas and spirits flagging somewhat - not the town´s fault, not ours, just a failure in travel chemistry mixed with a serious rain situation in what is essentially an outdoorsy region. So wheeling north into one of Argentina`s premier tourist destinations, packed with enough great wine and food to sink a ship of broadsheet food critics (before everyone discovered Pilates), we were ready for A Holiday and, more importantly, to get our Wine on.

The sun was shining - already beating down strongly at 9am when we clambered down from our billionth overnight bus. So far so good, we sighed, starved of temperatures over 25 degrees since leaving Buenos Aires almost a month before. And after navigating the rechargable bus cards and routes, we got ourselves headed north-west of the city to El Challao, a hilly suburb with a decent campsite. Over 35 minutes later and we were starting to get nervous, as Mendoza city receded into the distance and we still hadn`t reached our destination (supposedly just 6km away). `This feels pretty far,` I remarked hesitantly. Everything we had planned for the week involved daytrips out of town or drinks/meals in town and the notion of 45 minute bus rides multiple times a day for the sake of saving a few dozen pesos on accomodation was starting to seem a bit hubristic. Why did we keep making things difficult for ourselves with this stuff??

Arriving eventually into Camping Suizo, a relaxed, family-run site with a small pool and grill spaces by each plot, we shook off the concern that everyone else there was clearly driving and that the boy showing us around was non-committal about the existence of any minimarkets nearby. As we pitched up in the sunshine, I sent a tired Toby off to buy a beer and we told ourselves firmly it would be fine. The test would be shops nearby and after a dusty walk down the highway as the sun rose far overhead and dogs hid in the shade, we found the Holy Grail. Good fresh, CHEAP butchery counter, good fresh veg outside and some genral sundries were within walking distance. We prepared lunch at the site, showered and breathed a sigh of relief. It was all good. Our Bariloche luck was behind us and this week would be one of our best yet.

At Vines of Mendoza. See? I´m writing notes, it´s entirely scholarly.

And it was actually, indisputably idyllic, the odd domestic squabble aside (together 24/7 for 16 weeks and counting ;-)). The best way I can descibe it is as the mix of high and low brow living we tend to enjoy best. We stayed cheaply on a friendly campsite full of Argentinian families - grilling around three times that week (including New Year`s eve), making delicious lunches of spicy  guacamole, tomato, basil and cheese, popping into the pool occasionally and sleeping well in the shade as the powerful dry heat of the day, filtered through tall treees, receded a little. And each day we´d take the 30-40 minute bus into town, often followed by another hour or two back out into the surrounding countryside for our wine visits. And then - lo, was money spent.

Before arriving we had set up two key reservations - the first for a Malbec tasting at the phenomenal Vines of Mendoza our first evening, a tasting room in town with superlative knowledge of the regions wines and bodegas and a crucial first stop for new visitors seeking to orient themselves in Mendoza and plan their vineyard trips. The second was at the renowned 1884 Francis Mallman restaurant in the southern suburb of Godoy Cruz, dinner for the 2nd January. 

Other than these we hit the week free as birds. Jumping on the bus into town each day, it felt like we hit the best of both worlds precisely - we were constantly busy but in the best kind of way. And between packed tasting schedules which saw us sample over 60 wines during the course of the week (it`s a damn dirty job but some wino´s got to do it, right?), we`d wander around Mendoza itself, stretch out in the parks, or chill out back at the campsite.

We will post a few updates on the details of the week, hopefully with more specifics on each bodega and tasting notes, but as an overview, it all started with Vines of Menoza. Sampling their classic Malbec tasting on our first night, five great examples of a grape we have long been crazy, but under-informed about, we flexed our tasting muscles (taking copious notes like the geeks we are) and quizzed the staff on the best way to structure some of the trips we wanted to take. We landed firmly on our feet with the warm and enthusiastic Cecilia who gave us the quintessential bike route via four key bodegas and one olive farm in Maipu, where we planned to spend the following day. We also picked up some valuable advice about how to approach Lujan de Cujo, a second important region a little further out of town, and a hit list of bodegas which would be accessible by bus. After a delectable re-aquantance with Malbec where I struggled valiantly to raise my tasting prowess above the level of ´mmm, red´/ `mmm, redder!`, we grabbed a pre-dinner glass of wine a few streets away and eventually wandered, completely by chance, into Maria Antonieta on Belgrano for dinner. A brand new project just started by former Mallman`s manager Vanina Chimeno, we were bowled over by our good fortune as we tucked into our most enjoyable meal since Buenos Aires in a friendly, casual and elegant setting (see Toby´s forthcoming blog for the foodie details...) 

And so on to Maipu where, an hour out of town by bus, we rented bargaintastic 20 peso bikes from the splendid paterfamilia Mr Hugo - who greets every gringo through his gate as a long-lost son or daughter and waves you off with a beaming smile, a handy map and reminders to apply suncream and drink plenty of water. The oldest Mendoza wine regiona, Maipu has become the most accessible area to do independently, with plenty of bodegas close by one another and bike rental shops lining the long dusty Urquiza road. With the sun climbing higher we sped to our furthest stop first, the French owned and styled boutique bodega Carinae (you´ve never seen T pedal so hard as in pursuit of his first drink, ahem, tasting, of the day). After an excellent tour and first tasting session, the olive farm cross the road provided a tasty platter of breads, olives and tapenades before we were guided around the farm itself and learned more about the pressing process.  In the baking afternoon heat, still a shock from the Patagonian chill, we visited Familia Di Tommaso for old-school Italian charm and Mevi for beautiful modernist architecture amidst a stunning location in the late afternoon glare; vines as far as the eye can see and a lovely glass-fronted tasting room and patio. The wines of the day hadn´t knocked us out - figuratively or literally (thankfully as we pedalled back to Mr Hugo under a remorseless 35 degree sun in the early evening) - but it was a perfect first day of vineyard visits and the Maipu cycle-route makes this a great, budget-friendly introduction to the region. We came away clutching a Mevi Torrontés, one of the hits of the day, a grape typically further north in the sub-altiplano Salta area of Argentina and already beginning to cast a spell on us. We got home after dark to hit the grill Argentinian style: late, smoky and utterly delicious.

No rest for the wicked and the next morning we were up at six (What?!) for another hard day´s tasting in the super-sexy Uco Valley region. For this we had opted for a tour, as the least accessible, highest altitude wine region from the city, with much more dispersed bodegas, we would have struggled to make it independently. The thicker skinned, stressed-out and thirsty grapes produced by Uco´s tougher climate set against the Andean foothills are creating some of the area´s most exciting results, so we went with Ampora Wine Tours to ensure we made the most of the visit and got the full information blast.  The tours don´t come cheap but in Luciana we found an informed, fun and enthusiastic guide, for whom no question was too tough nor to daft to dignify a response (as Cecilia in Vines advised, she once had a tourist ask how many bricks there were in a cellar she was guiding them through, so the bar for moronic enquiry is set pretty high for them!) Our merry band of four couples - one Texan, one New Yorker, one Brit-American and ourselves - rolled through the stunning sunbleached foothills and the parched semi-desertified landscape ringed by Andean peaks, snowlines visible even as we staggered blinking from the air-con bus to exposed expanses of vineyard on our hottest day yet. We kicked off with the medium-sized Atamisque, with a barrel tasting, showing us just how far six months in oak will take a Cab-Sauv, and learned that the best time to taste is apparently first thing in the morning before brushing your teeth, before anything impairs the palete (´That´s why I keep a bottle open by the bed,´ our fellow Londoner quipped under his breath. ´It´s only professional,´we agreed). A large, jovial tasting followed the science part but, again, we didn´t discover anything that took our breath away. Interestingly, it was the whites - and the Chardonnay in particular - that we were most interested in here; which became an interesting theme, given that the reds of Mendoza are the heavy hitters and the ones that draw you in. But both the Torrontés and the Chardonnays of the region turned out to be quite an eye-opener as the week wore on.

Happy Toby, happy wine-grower at Gimenez Rilli

Gimenez Rilli is where the day became interesting for us; a small-scale, family run vineyard in a beautiful setting. We toured the winery and cellar, tried another barrel sample and then filed out for a spectacular tasting. The group was nicely warmed up by this time, the three wines superlative and our host was warm and welcoming, topping up glasses and even bringing out his grandmothers homemade empanadas (my best yet in Argentina, vegetarian empanadas tending to be a bit of an afterthought in most places!). And what a smart man: we bought a caseload to ship home, a bottle of their Malbec Reserva and the phenomenal Torrontés for New Year´s Eve (backpacking, scmackpacking... in fact I think we had entirely forgotten budgetary constraints by this point). Then came lunch, a six course special, with wine flight at the opulent Andeluna Cellars where, despite the note about the crazy vegetarian having been lost in the post, tasty cheese-based alternatives were whipped out wherever a fish or steak reared its head on the menu. The setting here is truly stunning and had we been touring independently, we´d certainly have stayed longer for a drink on the shaded patio. As it was, this was our last stop before the long drive back and we lingered over the deserts, gossiping about travel, wine and hitting our companions up for tips on San Fransisco (only a few months away). A fabulous, informative day - though we did hit town feeling that for the price and distance, another vineyard and tasting could probably have been squeezed in.

Within our first day or two in Mendoza, we had decided to avoid some of the stresses we`d met with in Bariloche by styling New Year itself as a big BBQ with some good wines back at our grill at Camping Suizo - no fuss, no taxis and no angsting over reservations or closed restaurants and bars. After our packed first three days, we were ready for this and having test-drived our grill, prepared for a laid-back New Year´s eve. After a lazy morning at the campsite we went into town for a pasta lunch and some supplies before heading back to pick up the veggies and steak from our local. We started firing up the grill around 8pm and then saw in the British New Year with a batch of tasty Chileno Pisco Sours, toasting all the challenges and new adventures in store for our loved ones this year. A few hours of leisurely prep and grilling later we sat down to enjoy steak, proveleta, roast potatoes, aubergine and onion, guacamole and roasted corn - T with a Gimenez Malbec and me with the Mevi Torrontés. We were a minute or two late with the bubbly for midnight, (the fireworks from the El Challao clubs were the first clue) - ´Guys, a head´s up please!´ we exclaimed to the chilled-out campsite, half-full of Argentine families quietly doing their thing free from fanfare or fuss. Then we sat up with our wines until around 3, picking at leftovers and chatting tipsily before crawling back into our tent. Pretty damn perfect. 

The next day too, was I think the best New Year´s day of my adult life - it usually, disgraceful to admit, being a slightly queasy Morning-After-the-Night-Before. But at Camping Suizo on 1st January 2013, with merely a hint of fogginess, we woke up after a lie-in to make a simple tasty brunch with goats cheese, guac, tomatoes, peaches and bread - washed down with the Gimenez Rilli Torrontés. We lolled about the site through the afternoon, chasing the shade as the heat intensified and watching as some families packed up and others arrived, then lolled around the chilly poolside before heading into town for dinner.

New Year´s Day brunch. Bliss.

Our last key Mendoza highlight was Lujan de Cujo, another renowned sub-region a little further than Maipu but still public-transport accessible. We made three bookings then after another early start took the Number 1:19 bus from town, after some misadventure, to hit our first port of call,  Luigi Bosca. Rushing in late and breathless - only to discover, inevitably, in South America, that no one is the least bit phased - we shared a detailed and highly informative tour around the successful medium-sized winery, run by the Arizu Family for four generations, with a friendly Mexican couple followed by a tasting of several of their key wines including the prized Icono. From here came one of the most memorable and touching meetings of the week, our visit to Carmelo Patti just down the road. Carmelo is a living legend in Mendoza; everyone knows him, everyone recommends you visit him and yet it is hard to get a handle on his renown until you meet him. Creating each wine personally, it feels that Carmelo is literally the beating heart and soul of Mendoza wine country. After our too-brief half an hour with him, we came away feeling profoundly moved by the experience and holding a bottle of his classic 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon -  more on this visit later from T.

And from there to Lagarde over the road, one of the big boys on the Argentine wine scene. A stunning courtyard lunch, with wine flight - I would find it very hard to top this as a meal-in-context. Fantastic friendly service, a delicious gnocchi vegetarian option for the main course and a succession of gorgeous wines sipped in the dappled early afternoon sunlight. The kind of time lapse you want to bottle. After the tour, we took in a final shorter tasting to work out what bottles would make up the case for shipping (yes, again). Hopping back on the long bus to town slightly tipsy and sun-drenched from a spectacular day, we had a moment of doubt about the wisdom of our pre-booked tasting evening at Ampora Wines who have just launched a new Wine Lounge. The sprint across town (late, late again...) thankfully kicked us into shape and a thoroughly pleasant evening was spent with a nice bunch of people as we indulged in a final Malbec tasting to bookend an awesome week. Unfortunately, the information-aspect was a bit of a letdown as we were surprised for $35 not to have a more guided session; instead after a quick initial discussion of each, we were largely left to our own devices and the chat rapidly turned to travel stories and tips. Great fun, but we´d hoped for a bit more structured tasting.

And so we could not have bettered this week. With Chile knocking on the door, our liver a little slow and our wallets depleted, it was time to move but Mendoza has definitely made its mark and new ideas, ambitions and wanderlusts abounded after just these seven short days. We spent our final night in town itself - having dismantled Camp Wino and bid a sad farewell to our lovely little home on the shaded hill. Here we saw out our last Mendoza sunset in the best way possible: with Carmelo´s 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon, full of complexity and soul much like the man himself, lounging and people-watching in the lovely Plaza Espana. Salud!

And so on through the Andes to Chile.