An inquisitive old fart with a camera
Excellent food, ambiance, and presentation at reasonable price (entrees UYP 290, a little over USD 12). One block form the bus station. Surprisingly, it has been open for three years, but we’d never heard of it until recently. Open daily noon to midnight.
I would have taken a picture of our lunch but I don’t Instagram 😉
I took this photo a week or two ago. I can pretty much make out what’s available.
This is the cuenta we got yesterday when we went with friends. I just realized it has nothing to do with what we ordered. Apparently.
No wonder cashews cost a bit — each of these fruits has one at the end. I picked on and ate the fruit, very tasty. But apparently they can only be eaten (or juiced) fresh. So in most cases the whole fruit gets wasted when the nut is harvested.
“Calidad T I” — Tienda Inglesa quality (presumably good, given the price)
I have an ongoing joke at the local carnicería (butcher shop). They ask me how much I want, and I reply 454 grams, una libra (one pound). Like every other country in the world except for Liberia, Myanmar, and one other, Uruguay uses the metric system—mostly).
We then asked if they had lamb. Siempre. Always. Who knew?
He brought out an entire frozen lamb carcass, cut the length in half with the band saw, then cut off the hindquarter we wanted. The band saw blade is within easy reach of the customer.
I grew up using, and still use, dangerous power tools. But band saws terrify me a little bit, ever since 8th grade (age 13) shop class, when the teacher demonstrated the capabilities of a band saw by cutting through a piece of 2×4 like it was butter, and probably at the same time encouraging us to imagine that 2×4 was some part of our body.
But hey, that was in the United States. It’s probably not too late to sue for psychological trauma, mental distress ….
Yes, it’s been a while since my last post. Shortly after it, I commiserated with an older neighbor whose bicycle had bogged down in the mud I’ve never seen before. We got onto the strange rain and weather, and he told me summer was over (se terminó el verano).
I didn’t believe him. But I think it’s true: by the equivalent of mid-August in the northern hemisphere, and summer was gone. One of our neighbors in the campo told me he‘d seen swallows flocking to migrate north to Brazil or Ecuador. And I have gotten nothing—absolutely nothing—from the garden. Lettuce in the supermarket costs 3-4 times (factoring quantity) as much as we’d expect.
But we had a lovely day for our neighbor’s hangi-style pig roast, complete with tranquilo sunset that reminded me why I enjoy being in the country (all of 10 km away!).
Hey, I’m just the messenger, OK?
Actually not true. My wife added the remaining beet juice.
Couple years ago, a Brazilian chef opened a slightly upscale restaurant in nearby and otherwise not-upscale Parque del Plata. I took the wife to have lunch there once, and next to the sign showing they were open was a very convincing chain holding the gate locked shut. I doubt it’s still open.
I mention it today because I’m trying to clear my desk of little pieces of paper, mostly presupuestos, or estimates which you get every time you ask a price here, and came across this advertising piece for the restaurant.
Why would someone go to the bother and expense of creating these things, using a defective Google map that shows significant residential areas underwater? Boggles the mind. This mind, anyway.