What's the Mata?

 Saturday, October 15. 

Amy found us a cooking class online.  There are lots but she found one that wasn't too expensive and included more types of food we would make.  Most just include empanadas.  Ours had empanadas of course, but also had lentil stew and little cookies called Alfajones.  And wine!

Our teacher was Norma.  She is a professional psychologist who teaches cooking classes two days a week in her home for 'fun'.  She has a beautiful apartment on the edge of Palermo and Belgrano districts (for those following along with their BA map nearby).  It was huge and had a gorgeous view.  And a private elevator! 

Norma in her kitchen

Norma's apartment, this picture doesn't do it justice

We all learned how to make the empanadas.  Like all things, it is more complicated than it looks.  apparently, there is a whole code to how to crimp your empanada closed based on the filling.  We were making carne (meat) so our crimping was fairly basic but now I have to pay attention to the empanadas I see, look more closely at the edges.

My empanadas.  Not to shabby, if I say so myself

Ready!

While those were cooking, we made up some cookie batter.  Norma has a good system going.  We make the batter which has to sit in the fridge for a few hours.  As that is going in the fridge, she pulls out the dough from the last class, already cold and ready to bake!  The cookies have to be cooled before we can add the dulce de leche so as the previous classes dough is baking, she pulls out the previous previous classes already baked cookies which we assembled.  It's really a metaphor: we are all just a cog in the cookie assembly line of life, one fading into the next...  how we create our dough benefits those that follow, just as we reap the rewards of those who measured and folded their dough before us.  Deep! 

Fold, do not stir!  

The finished product, the work of generations. 

The lentil stew with chorizo was bubbling away as we made the empanadas and cookies.  It was finally time to sit down at the dining room table and eat our efforts and enjoy some Malbec.  

Lentil stew

A toast to a meal well made

After we ate and had some wine, we got a lesson in Mata.  Mata is the national beverage.  Norma called it infusion but it is basically tea (I'm probably going to be deported for saying that).  It is served in special cups called Matas which are filled to the brim with greenery called Mata and then covered in hot water which is sipped immediately through a straw called a Mata.  Do NOT STIR, sip.  The liquid, called Mata, is very bitter and there is only enough water in there for a couple of sips before more water has to be added, repeat, repeat.  Apparently, in the world before Covid, you would all share one cup.  Each person would get their couple of sips, more hot water, and pass to the next person who would sip from the same straw and cup.  The anthropologist in me assumes this was some sort of tribal bonding experience that didn't go away with basic hygiene but I'm sure I would be disagreed with by the locals.  Anyway, bonding expereince or not, the cups and straws are cool but I am not a fan of the actual liquid mata.  

By the way, since I started writing this, I have discovered that Mata is actually spelled Mate but that doesn't work as well with my Title Pun so I am just going to leave the many spelling errors and give you a Wikipedia link for anyone who cares.   Mate.  

Norma explaining Mata.  It was pretty funny,
she kept filling her own cup and 
forgetting to fill ours.

The Mata is settled!  Cup, straw, greenery, liquid 

We were at Norma's for 3.5 hours.  It was very fun but that was partly due to the other guests who were all young and fun and very good looking.  Amy and I fit right in, obviously.

When we left there, it was raining.  We were not appropriately dressed so we headed back to the apartment with leftover empanadas and cookies in our backpacks.  On the way back, I finally got to partake of the shady backstreet money exchangers.  

As you can guess by the chandelier, 
it was a harrowing dive into the
depths of the criminal underworld

The beginning of my Breaking Bad level stack of cash! 

We were quite disappointed that we missed out on the symphony but, unlike me who was like, oh well, Amy kept checking back onto the Teatro Colon website.  Another symphony posted!  While we are still here!  Only problem, we could not for the life of us figure out how to choose seats on their tiny map of their ginormous theatre.  

pick a seat

So, after a short sit and a glass of wine, we headed out into the rain to go buy the tickets in person.  Good thing we did.  We had almost bought standing room tickets online.  And there were very few actual seats left.  But we got two so we get to go back to Teatro Colon.  

Since we were out and rain-suited up, we decided to walk around a bit.  First place we found was an entire store dedicated to Dulce de Leche.  They gave us a free sample so I felt obliged to buy a few candies (obligation was the ONLY reason, I assure you).  Amy felt obliged to buy a full size bottle of dulce de leche liquour.  So, party at Amy's when we get back.

Next we found ourselves on Avenida Corrientes.  We were actually trying to find a different street but lucky accident, we ended up in the theatre district on a Saturday night.  There are so many live theatres on this street.  And restaurants, and stores, and people.  

It was too early for dinner (Argentinian dinner at least) so we stopped in at a coffee and tea shop called Gato Negro (Black Cat).  It is a bit like Murchie's in Victoria, all oldey-timey and good-smelly and full-of-peopley.  We sat upstairs where is was a little calmer.  We ordered the afternoon snack for two.  Snack!  It was so much food.  We got a caprese bruschetta (bread, cheese, tomatoes soaked in oil), lemonade with mint and ginger, a pot of tea, and sweet bread.  By the time we left at 7:30 or so, there was quite the line up to get in.  

We walked around a bit more but we headed home just as the rest of the city was emerging to start their evening.  I may be almost on Argentina's technical time zone but I'm not sure I will have to time adjust to Argentina's cultural time zone, evening starts at 9, dinner at 10 pm.  God knows what time they go to bed.  I'm old, I know, no need to say it out loud.  

Here's some sights

Too bad it's blurry.  This is the Obelisk