The George Harrison Steak

Day 8: Iguazu Falls to Buenos Aires

While Taylor slept in, I went in search of a free breakfast. Last night, I had noticed the room service menu said that breakfast via room service was not included in the room price. Did that mean that there was a breakfast included in the room price somewhere else? The front desk confirmed my complementary breakfast buffet was downstairs.

My last complementary breakfast buffet was at the Best Western in Long Beach, where I fought for the use of toasters and the make-your-own-waffle machine with a troop of Boy Scouts. However, the complementary buffet here was a pleasant surprise. There were eight large dispensers of fresh squeezed juice, a station with about 20 different kinds of cheeses, a station with a wide variety of fresh fruits and yogurts, another station with a huge array of pastries and breads, various hot and cold cereal choices, and about eight chafing dishes with hot items like grilled potatoes and eggs benedict.

This was actually what I used to call the "standard $25 hotel buffet breakfast," which I've eaten at big hotels all over the world. The price was always $25 and the menus varied very little, except sometimes there was an Asian station. Of course by now, it's probably the "standard $35 hotel buffet breakfast." The Iguazu Sheraton was missing one important station from the "standard," the made-to-order omlet station. I did forgive them, however, as the whole breakfast was INCLUDED in the price of the room.

Tay and I took a taxi back to the airport for our 2 p.m. flight. He was covered in mosquito bites so he refused my offer of a quick hike beforehand. Between Tay's mosquito bites and my reaction to the near-drowning-by-falls, we had both had enough of nature.

We flew into a gorgeous day in Buenos Aires. We left our suitcases at our apartment and headed out for what turned out to be a three-mile walk through several neighborhoods. (I guess we made up for not hiking earlier.) We ended up at the gelatto place, recommended on our first night. We sat down and were handed a menu that did not include gelatto.

We walked over to the person scooping gelatto and tried to order there. That wasn't right either. She directed us to the cashier where we figured out that we had to order by size. After we paid, we took the receipt back to the gelatto scooper who inquired as to the flavors we wanted. The flavors were in Spanish. (If I had learned fruit flavors in one of my college Spanish classes, that knowledge had long departed my brain.) I made a guess and we got strawberry with chocolate pieces. It was yummy. Taylor's reaction was the same as the first night: "We have to have this again!"

Consulting my map, I found the Subte a few blocks away. We followed the subway signs but it didn't "feel" right. Years of being a stranger in a strange land, have taught me to pay close attention to my "Spidey senses," so we didn't board. We later found out this was the train to the outlying suburbs. We backtracked and found another entrance to the Subte line we wanted.

We rested at our apartment before heading out for dinner around 10 p.m. Google Maps had shown the restaurant as being a 50 minute walk away. But when I closed in on the destination, I couldn't find the street the restaurant was on. I pulled up the Spanish website, which showed the restaurant was, not a 50 minute walk, but around the corner from our apartment. I was relieved I had doublechecked and not hailed a taxi to take us to an address 200 feet away!

In addition to being close, Don Julio's was a cozy neighborhood Argentine restaurant. I was very proud that I had made our reservation, entirely in Spanish, earlier in the day. Now, however, they had no record of me. (I did not receive the all-important reservation number from them so I should have realized they had no clue what I was saying.) The restaurant was very busy, but they did manage to fit us in.

We had an excellent steak. Taylor and I decided it was a George Harrison steak. George Harrison is a very good songwriter. But he is often completely overlooked because he was in a group with Paul McCartney and John Lennon, the two greatest songwriters of his generation. So even if our steak at LaCabera was a McCartney/Lennon steak, a Harrison Steak at Don Julio's is still pretty good.

We ordered a better bottle of Malbec. After having a Malbec wine at dinner every night, we were developing a better appreciation for the more subtle versions. One of Don Julio's traditions is to display empty wine bottles autographed by customers. Taylor wrote, "Nancy and Taylor 2010" on our bottle of Malbec and then drew a cow on our label.

If you are ever in Don Julio's, you can look for it.