An Early Dinner

It's 10:10 p.m., and I just finished having an early dinner. Most people have not yet begun thinking about what they are going to eat. I tried tonight to do as the Argentinos do, but I gotta tell you, it just doesn't make sense to me.

I met Raul, my conversation partner at 6. It was the hour of the "merienda", the time when friends and co-workers get together to have a coffee or share a mate. The restaurant we were at was filled with people doing just that, with either some small cookies or a tostado (thin sandwich with ham and cheese). I had a smoothie with a tostado.

That should have been enough for me. But at 8, when we finished, Raul was going to meet a friend for dinner. The restaurant we were at (which by the way is where I had many lunches last year before my Spanish class) was setting the tables with table cloths and wine glasses preparing for the dinner crowd. I thought I should have dinner because that is what everyone else was doing.

If I had passed a place I felt comfortable going into that sold choripan, I would have been happy with just that. But I walked up Avenida Rivadavia, where I was meeting with Raul to Puerrydon, the big avenue that would take me to my part of town. But, I've never walked that way before, and didn't realize that Rivadavia has many more blocks between where I was and Puerrydon. I started getting a little worried that I had passed Puerrydon, so finally I turned to head north.

I was in Once, the garment/wholesale district. During the day it is a hustle/bustle of people rolling around big rolls of fabric, loading and unloading trucks, standing outside of shops smoking and talking and people bustling about. At night, it is a deserted wasteland and was a little scary. I stopped at one traffic light and a caravan of busses came barreling down the street. Paper and scraps of fabric littered the dark sidewalks, and the cartoneros were busy doing their part for recycling, collecting bits of paper and cardboard that they could sell to earn money for food.

I was relieved to make it to Corrientes where there was some life and some traffic, and from there I saw Puerrydon.

I walked down Puerrydon, continually looking for a place that I could stop and eat. Every place I passed had people still drinking coffee or in some cases beer. But no one was eating. I passed another restaurant that was just beginning to set out table cloths and wine glasses. It was now 9 p.m.

I settled on a pizzeria on the corner of Puerrydon and Santa Fe.

I was pretty hungry, and took a chance ordering a chicken suprema a la napolitana with mashed potatoes.

The suprema is a chicken breast that is split so that it is fairly thin, it is then breaded a fried, like most things that are not steak are cooked here. A la napolitana meant it came with tomato sauce, a slice of ham and cheese.

The thing was huge!

I finished most of it, but not all. The others in the pizzeria were still on the coffee hour. I was the only one who was eating.

As I walked home, I passed some restaurants that had people eating, but I guessed that they were foreigners. It seemed to me that Buenos Aires had not yet arrived at the dinner hour.

I kind of think it is ridiculous to eat at such a late hour, even though people are really thin here, I think it is very unhealthy. So, starting tomorrow I am going to return to my habit of eating at home after Patito Feo. That has been working out very nicely for me.

While eating my dinner, several people came into the restaurant selling socks. One woman had socks and jewelry.

The enter, pull whatever they are selling out of their bag and go around and place one item on each table. They then come back and pick up the item. Sometimes people buy. Most times, people ignore them.

I thought about this economic crisis in the US and if things get really bad and we all find ourselves out of work, I'm learning some very crafty ways to survive from those who have gone before us in having their country looted right before their eyes. I can always sell socks in restaurants!