Of all the romantic anecdotes about expats finding their way to Buenos Aires, there isn’t one quite like Ayaz and Liyanleth’s. But then again, if there was, maybe I wouldn’t have
Review by our resident chef and food writer: Kevin Vaughn, of MASA fame.
I think that it was around the moment that the sound of Notorious B.I.G.’s “Juicy” filled the room, me on my second pint and seriously chowing
By Vivi Rathbone.
Simple food done well – soft, bright, airy atmosphere – hearty dishes served on vintage floral print porcelain – ending it all with a lovely little coffee – when paired with the right company, this could become
I was on my way to an event and my arms were full or packages to deliver. I picked up a taxi on the busy corner next to my street and told him my destination.
“Vamos.” He replied as he drove off.
“Vamoooooos”, I confirmed, in my imitation Argentine
Esquina de los Flores is the most unique Argentine restaurant. It isn’t the fanciest, it isn’t the most exciting, but it is totally different than any other place I’ve been in the city. Esquina is an all natural, vegetarian restaurant
I was having a weird day. Normally when I go to sleep, I meditate on what I’m going to do the following day. I think about what time I’m going to wake up. I see myself making my bed, I choose my outfit in my mind. I make a mental
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
I stood in my small kitchen and pressed the imported Nicaraguan coffee grounds to the bottom of my red french press, and poured hot coffee into the two short tea cups, adding a dash of milk and a teaspoon of azucar negra. I sat down across from Kevin
I was wearing four inch heels but Mun insisted we take the bus. We must have looked odd to the other passengers; a very tall American in a loud, red skirt, trying to keep her balance
One day, we wandered through Recoleta, admiring the French architecture on our way to brunch. I was rambling on about how I would remodel the back yard of the Brazilian Ambassador’s mansion, if I lived there, and pre-debating whether I wanted