Meat was on our minds. Luckily, Patagonia isn't vegetarian territory. Even the hotel's kitchen ended up doing right by lamb -- and us -- with it's Lamb Empanadas, with their golden brown, flaky crusts and rich, toothsome, meaty filling.
But our lamb lust wasn't satisfied. We needed more.
More we had.
Ready for another carne money shot?
Oh, yeah! This was the bomb! The cordero bomb!
I can't state it better than that.
This vision was beheld at La Tablita, an incredible carnivore's delight off the town's main strip.
The next night, with our new pal Amelia in tow, we hit up Casimiro Bigua, a more elegant spot with a similar asado set-up, but the lamb was insipid in comparison.
That said, the restaurant did offer some other top-notch carne -- muy guapo gauchos. Requisite flirting began. A kiss or two followed.
No sooner did we say adios to the hombres when we were jetting back to BA for more hot, smokin' adventures.
You won't hear from me again, until I'm back in Nueva York. Until then, may your dreams be filled with carne.
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