San Telmo’s Parrilla de Freddy Buenos Aires, by most accounts, is a city. Those accounts also attach various adjectives to it such as world-class, cosmopolitan, even Argentinian. One of the many criteria that I petulantly demand a city check off its scan-tron test sheet is the presence of a set

Exterior of El Salteno  As I said in a previous South American dispatch, things get looser, more flavorsome, and less racially homogenous in Argentina the further you penetrate the Northwestern region of the country.  Also, dustier.  I hopped off the bus in the tiny, quaint town of Tilcara, and had

<a href=”http://brokeassstuart.com/wp-content/pictsnShit/2014/03/flordecanela-e1395855282654.jpg”><img class=”size-full wp-image-68910 aligncenter” alt=”flordecanela” src=”http://brokeassstuart.com/wp-content/pictsnShit/2014/03/flordecanela-e1395855282654.jpg” width=”135″ height=”180″ /></a> Mendoza Province, abutting the Andes in west central Argentina,  is a big smudge of green amidst a large expanse of merciless aridity.  Its verdancy is owed to the enslavement of Andean snow;  upon turning to water, it runs downhill to