In years past, what excited me most about going home for Christmas was the eating (I love you, Mom). It became a ritual. Somewhere around September or October I’d begin working out again – not because of the approaching bathing suit season but more so to drop the five pounds I knew I was going to gain at home during a month of unbridled face stuffing and beer chugging. I’d purchase my flight carefully making sure I didn’t land too early in the morning so that we didn’t have to wait in the parking lot of the In N Out before they opened at 10:30am. My mom would get a food and liquor list a week before my arrival, and instructions to have my favorite cookies ready for the car ride.
I’m not much of a bruncher. But before you light those pitchforks, let me explain. I’m not one to turn down salmon gravlax or eggs benedict (read: I don’t turn down food; read: cook for me!). I will welcome with open arms a Bloody Mary with the day’s first meal. I will, however, freely and without any shame admit that I hate champagne, get that outta my face. It’s just that on a Sunday afternoon I feel more inclined to lay in bed with a bowl of cereal and a few episodes of New Girl. My brunch date told me to stop telling people I watch that show, I refuse!
“There’s a new place in my neighborhood that has great coffee, but it’s full of hipsters.” Someone told me.
Hipsters in Buenos Aires? Are hipsters still a thing? What is a hipster, really, anyway?
On a recent trip to Portland, a local friend tried to define hipster to me by pointing out all of the hipsters. My conclusion? Everyone was a hipster.
I’ve never considered myself a hipster. Then someone with sleeve tattoos and a scarf told me that: “Hipsters always deny being hipsters. The first thing the most hipster hipster will tell you is ‘I’m not a hipster‘.”
Review and Photos by Sharon Salt.
Hierbabuena has a brunch. Hierbabuena, my favorite restaurant in all of Buenos Aires, maybe ever, has a brunch.
Unfortunately, I had never been able to participate in this Eventful Meal because I was never quite willing to part with all the pesos. Fortunately, however, my mother came to visit over her spring break, and I shamelessly took advantage of her status as a tourist, i.e. 1. that she was willing to eat out anywhere because VACATION!, and 2. that she still considered the exchange rate quite nice, having not yet had a chance to experience first-hand the ridiculousness of the ever-rising inflation.
I studied abroad in Southwest France. It was divine.
When I arrived, I spoke no French. When I left I was fluent. Today, I speak no French.
On my first day in town, my French neighbor told me: “There are only two phrases you need to know in French to survive here.” The first was a swear word, so I won’t repeat it here. The second was ‘pain au chocolat’.
“What’s that?” I wanted to know. My French neighbor winked and sent me along to the closest boulangerie.
Sometimes I can’t wait until Sunday morning to have brunch. Sometimes I need to have brunch on Thursday evening. Brinner, anyone? This vegetarian casserole was simple to make, hearty and delicious. It made a great dinner, and would be great for brunch.
Potato, Onion, and Leek Brunch Casserole
- 3 Potatoes
- 2 Leeks
- 2 Green Onions
- 2 White Onion
- 6 Eggs
- 1 Cup of Cream
- 1 Cup of Shredded Mozzarella Cheese
- 1/2 Cup of Grated Parmesan Cheese
- Peel and boil the potatoes until tender. Drain and set aside to cool. When cooled, slice thinly.
- Dice the white onions and sauté at a low temperature until translucent and aromatic.
- Chop the leeks and green onions and combine.
- Use non-stick spray to coat the edges of a large casserole dish or cake pan.
- Layer the potatoes in the bottom of the dish. Build subsequent layers of onions, leeks, and cheese sprinkled on top, and then continue to loosely layer potatoes and repeat for three layers. The top layer should be cheese.
- Whisk the eggs and the cream and gently and slowly pour over the layers, letting the egg trickle down to the bottom.
- Bake at 170° C for an hour, until the top is golden brown and the eggs have set. Let cool for 15 minutes. Slice and serve. Can be served hot or cold. Enjoy!
Jamie came back to Buenos Aires after ten months in Los Angeles. He used to call me baby, but now it was ‘babe’. My one time muse was back for a quick visit. So we went for brunch.
“You live in Beverly Hills, don’t you?”
James smiled. “I live in the corner of the earth that God designed to house the world’s orphan drop-tops.” James is the wittiest person I’ve ever met.
I giggled. “So you live in Beverly Hills AND you drive a convertible? Of course you do.”
In an attempt to avoid cliches, I won’t write how many words a picture is worth. I’ll only say that my words would detract from these handsome pictures, so I shan’t say another . . .
Sirop Folie: A Photo Blog By Dreamy Dean and the Noble Nikon
- Sirop Folie
- Vicente López 1661,
- 4813 5900
I love Palermo’s boutique hotel culture! The city is full of smaller, personalized hotel treasures so lovely that I almost feel sad living here, because the boutique culture is part of what makes Buenos Aires is such a great vacation destination.
Home Hotel in Palermo Hollywood was devised by a couple who, after hosting international visitors for their wedding, were inspired to create the type of hotel they would want their closest friends and family to enjoy when visiting. They created a hotel to be an extension of the hospitality and comfort they would offer in their own home, and named it accordingly.
Here’s something about me: I don’t like going to the same restaurant twice, but I make exceptions for worthy invitations.
Dean suggested Olsen for brunch, but let me make the ultimate decision. I suggested ten other restaurants, which we google searched, before ultimately landing on the initial suggestion. It was sunny and we walked there. My nose turned pink from the sunlight.
Olsen has a beautiful garden, with ponds and fountains and ivy climbing the walls and tall sculptures gracing the lawn. Diners adorned in scarves and hats read the paper and quietly sipped cappuccinos on stylishly designed furniture. The hostess lead us to a corner table inside. We sat down and the waitress told us: “You can pay with visa or cash.” We laughed awkwardly at her unintended insinuation that we looked like we couldn’t (or wouldn’t) pay.