Oot and aboot

The weather forecast – pronóstico – called for two glorious sunny days. Inspired by the first, I proposed a country drive the second. A vague goal was to explore the abandoned ‘gringo palace’ in Pueblo Eden. Long story, but short for now, as we never got there.

In Uruguay, topography = interesting, and we headed into the hills toward Minas, gaining serious altitude, with little more in mind than enjoying the scenery.

However, as we whizzed past Parque Salus (about where the arrow ends above), we remembered there was supposed to be a good restaurant there. It had been ten years and three months (perhaps to the day) since we’d been there last, and we still felt a little foolish that we had completely missed the restaurant, since expounded by a certain person who shall remain nameless – though with whom I walk dogs, and whose nationality inspires the title, in case you’re curious.

We reversed course, and headed in, ending a few dusty, rutty kilometers up the road (as in 2009) at the Fuente del Puma, the magical source of the wonderful water that results in discarded plastic bottles throughout the country.

As before, no restaurant. Time to pull out the guidebooks.

The Lonely Planet guide to Uruguay (2008) offered no help, but Bradt Uruguay, hot off the press in 2010 when my sister brought it, revealed that the restaurant was located after a promenade of palm trees – which we recognized: the entrance to the Patricia brewery, back on the highway! We retraced our steps to find … nothing.

Lo and behold, after a few minutes a couple of guard-type people appeared. I asked about the restaurant and hotel.

Closed.

Permanently?

Yes.

A long time?

At least ten years.

Approaching Minas, and thinking it time for lunch, we stopped at a busy but probably nothing-special restaurant.

None of the cars in the parking lot was from Montevideo or Punta del Este. There were families with kids. We were the only non-natives. Not entirely promising. Yet, far from being the typical boring fare, the meal was fabulous.

My photo, an afterthought, doesn’t do it justice. Suffice to say, if a convenient restaurant of this quality existed anywhere near Atlántida, we would be regulars. In fact, we would actually look forward to going out to eat.

From Minas, we headed south, over twisty, hilly, and mostly empty Ruta 12, a fun contrast to the flat, straight, boring roads that plague the rest of the country. Alas, the gas gauge lit up, and not knowing our remaining range, we headed straight to the nearest gasolinera in San Carlos before backtracking home, where we saw the first clouds of the day, painting a gorgeous sunset.

So, no shun-piking in Pueblo Edén – where the abandoned gringo palace awaits a future adventure….

Image from Google-A (as the locals say) Maps

Blueberries!

blueberries

Though a week ago Saturday was the first public blueberry harvest, we didn’t get notice in time. I went yesterday. The number of bushes is down radically from a year ago, but fruit is abundant and I managed to pick 2.5 kilos fairly efficiently.

The price has gone from (pesos) $180 to $250 per kilo, or +39%. One dollar buys about 14% more pesos than a year ago, so in dollar terms the price has increased 22%, double the rate of inflation (that I assume). So, bottom line, USD 3.44 per pound. Most places in the US I found online are under $3 per pound. So, like most things in Uruguay other than property tax and medical coverage, not cheap.

But delicious!

And then, consider what they cost at the supermarket. Over USD 2 for a small fraction of a kilo. These plastic containers are about 3 x 3 inches. I eat that many when I pass by the bowl on the kitchen counter!

blueberries at supermarket

If you’re in the area and want instructions to get there, let me know. I’m guessing this will be on for three more weekends.

A little background: blueberries (arandanos, the same word used for cranberries, which are not available here) seemed to become trendy around the time we got here (late 2009). But unlike other kinds of fruits, blueberries are only good for a very short period of time. They can be frozen, but when thawed these have a mushy texture and much less taste. Given the short time window, commercial buyers can basically pay whatever they want. Or worse. The first year Pilar (the owner) had a harvest, an Argentine buyer took the whole crop. Literally. Didn’t pay a dime.

Get thee to the Whoppspital

A couple of weeks ago, I posted Quadruple bypass on a bun, amazed that such an excessively unhealthy thing could exist, even in Uruguay, home of the chivito. The other day, riding the bus back from Montevideo, I spotted this:

Curious, I went back to the Burger King site to see what this monstrosity might be. I found no “Ultra Whopper,” but there’s the same photo:

To refresh your memory, on the product page there is a link to “nutrition information,” consisting of

To add to your gastric distress, perhaps you’d also like artificial chocolate goop or acrylamides via potatoes fried in “vegetable” oil.

But wait, there’s a punchline here, in the last line: Frente a H. Clinicas. So after scarfing down all this “good stuff,” you may not even need an ambulance: they can just roll you on a stretcher across the street to this grim monstrosity,

Hospital de Clinicas, Montevideo — The Hospital de Clinicas.

The last palta

I blogged about the last avocado on the “big” tree a short while ago. Seeing the new red leaves sprouting, we both got the feeling that the “little” tree was ready to be fully harvested, so today I scampered up the ladder and removed the last dozen or so,none of which is particularly visually appealing.

And I find this quite interesting: the last avocado (because I left it there) has been eaten on the limb, the first time (happily) we’ve seen this.

Half-eaten avocado in tree, Uruguay

Likewise, as with almost every day the past few weeks, there was another half-eaten on the ground. I left that in place as well, for the critter/s to continue their end-of-season feast.

The end is nigh!

At least for paltas (avocados) in 2018. I took the last three off the “big” tree, including one that managed to remain hidden and is undoubtedly the record-holder for this year’s crop:

858 grams, or for those of you in Myanmar, Liberia, and the Untied Snakes:

1.892 pounds. Or 1 pound 14.271999979939547 ounces. Or if you want full ‘Murkan, 1 pound 14+34/125^th ounces.

6-1/2 x 4.25 inches / 16.5 x 10.8 cm.

I decided that the overgrown nature of our yard needs to be addressed, and in doing so discovered the extent of the comedreja’s (possum’s) raids.

The tree above this pile still has 30+ smaller avocados. It’s fun to remember two years ago, when our total harvest was 30+ avocados, and the comedreja getting one was devastating! This year we (and friends) have had avocados for almost seven months!

Meanwhile, both small orange trees are laden with flowers. Not very many bees, but some, and doing their job. Hopefully we get more than three oranges next year.

Quadruple bypass on a bun

Last couple days, I’ve had to venture past the peaje – tool booth – a couple times, to buy tiles. A phone call confirmed that what I wanted was en stock, and the visit to pay for them confirmed, as last time, that that means “come back tomorrow afternoon after they’re delivered from Montevideo.” That’s OK: it’s not far, and I like the certainty of seeing goods versus waiting around for delivery of – whatever….

And, of course, the odd chance for cultural enlightenment. At the Costa Urbana shopping mall, which sprawls above Avenida Giannattasio and contains perhaps 157 stores selling shoes (I’m not sure an accurate count has ever been done), I saw this appalling Burger King ad, for a quadruple-cheesburger with bacon.

I have noticed that Uruguayans have gotten noticeably fatter the nine years we’ve been here. Still not perhaps up to American Standards, but definitely noticeable. But – I immediately wondered – is this uniquely Uruguayan? Something in me said yes, but that seemed unlikely.

So I went online.

This horrific “flame grilled to perfection” culinary disaster represents the maximum extent of Burger King’s US offerings: a mere 1,480 calories and 2,340 milligrams of salt.

Now let’s look at Burger King’s Uruguay site:

OK, maybe I added something. Click on that, and you can see that they offer more info about “nutrition:” this should be interesting, no?

Ah, yes…

… their further nutritional info is also maybe you’d like some chocolate-cake ice-cream thing or French fries?

The type in red is my addition: also maybe you’d like a trip to the emergency room in an ambulance?

This is the same profoundly misled/ignorant place where feedlot beef commands a premium.

Paradise Uruguay. Uruguay Natural. No: just more exploitation of ignorance.

The kitchen scale

I left my kitchen scale out after making bread recently, unwashed, and some else decided to wash it – not just the detachable measuring cup, but the whole thing. Electronics and warm, soapy water don’t go together well. After a few days, it began to work again, but then simply died for good.

So my challenge was to take it apart without breaking any parts, because that’s what I do rather than simply chuck things. I’m curious about how things work, and how they’re put together. Also whether there might be any parts worth saving.

dissected kitchen scale

Despite its apparent simplicity. it was a little tricky –– some well-concealed screws beneath labels and the plastic readout cover. Nothing really useful to save.

I’ve made bagels and pizza dough a couple times since, but I really prefer doing recipes by weight, so have thought about getting another.

I bought this one with points at the Disco supermarket a few years ago, not thinking about the actual cost. Now I see they sell it at Tienda Inglesa for 40 bucks – yikes! They also show one for USD 12 at Tienda Inglesa so maybe, just maybe, I can get them to bring one to our local store. I suppose I could try ordering one online but *shudder* that has not gone entirely well for me in Uruguay (think mattress and oven).

Except for socializing at the weekly feria, I find little fun in trying to find and buy things here. But maybe that’s OK, especially when I reflect on the inordinate amount of stuff we accumulated before moving to Mexico — and that was less than three years after moving ourselves across the country, from North Carolina to ~~Nelson, BC~~ Spokane, Washington.

UPDATE: Yes, this does seem like a rather pointless blog entry, but it reminded me to look at Tienda Inglesa, and guess what?

Opening the wine

We were recently the recipients of a couple of bottles of excellent Swiss white wine (thanks Syd and Gundy!), a Humagne Blanche (fascinating: according to Wikipedia, “the total Swiss plantations of the variety in 2009 stood at 30 hectares (74 acres).” And a bottle of Aigle les Murailles. Both excellent, and mostly unknown outside of Switzerland.

These bottles had corks. I generally do not rue the transition to screw tops for wine, though I admit I don’t completely understand the ecological implications.

So, translate to Uruguay (and notice this has only been a recent issue): a nice Stagnari Chardonnay, produced maybe 45 km (28 miles) away, accompanied by Camembert and blue cheese. Sounds good, eh?

Stagnari Chardonnay - pliers required to remove top — Sorry for the ill-exposed photo 🙁

Well, yeah, except for one thing: can’t unscrew the top because it doesn’t separate from the part below. Hence, we have now as Essential Kitchen Equipment a pair of needle-nosed pliers to tear the top off in, inevitably, a half-dozen or more pieces.

Q: How do you say quality control in Latin America?
A: ¿Qué?

Fried eggs

Shortly after we moved here, the cleaning lady walked by as I was having a couple of fried eggs or breakfast. “Oh, you Americans and your eggs!” she commented.

Which is kind of strange if you’ve spent any time in Uruguay. Here’s the famous chivito:

And here’s an Uruguayan hamburger (the white stuff isn’t mayonnaise):

So it’s fair to say Uruguayans don’t have a problem with fried eggs.

But an obsession?

Potato chips with fried egg flavor?

I think I’ll pass.

_{Picture credits: fried eggs, chivito, hamburger}

Christmas bagels

We don’t do anything special for Christmas (except attend our neighbors’ lovely afternoon food fest). I mentioned to my wife that she normally hangs red ornaments on our ficus tree, at least. She reminded me we have a fast-growing puppy who probably find them great fun to attack. Good point.

We’re also not Jewish.

But in the country we came from, bagels are ubiquitous, and in Uruguay they’re nonexistent. Well, except for one place in Montevideo owned by an American. There’s a place called Donut Shop that advertises bagels but makes — well, you decide.

So she asked the food processor and bread-object specialist (that would be me), to make bagels.

Obviously I’m low on the learning curve, but they were delicious with cream cheese, smoked salmon,¹ organic tomatoes and red onions.

Plus, always a treat in Uruguay, the taste made us feel we were somewhere else, somewhere one has a choice of tastes. Restaurants are gradually getting better here, offering variety. One nearby puts the old Uruguayan standbys like chivitos and milanesas under the heading, “Lo de Siempre,” the ‘always available’ stuff. I take that as a good sign. But I can still have fun tormenting recent North American arrivals by asking them what’s their favorite Thai restaurant in Uruguay.²

¹unfortunately from Chile, but that’s all we’ve got

² I haven’t been, but expect Konichi-Wa Sushi y Asian Gourmet is not really Thai