Going Italiano in Argentina.

We invited Rosario, Juan and their fourteen year old son, Alejo over for dinner tonight.  Rosario was in contact with us several weeks before we arrived.  She was there at the bus terminal to help collect our mountain of luggage and she drops by every second day on her electric scooter to see if we need anything.  On several occasions, Rosario has picked us up to take us to her place for a swim.

The toilet door still does not have a handle on it so we’ve left a spoon in the bathroom in case anyone is locked in.  I forgot to warn Alejo not to close the door when he went to the toilet.  Several long minutes later we heard knocking from el baño.  Alejo had fallen prey to some Argentine “we’ll fix it manaña.” 

Talluah made a delicious pasta free lasagne using zucchinis instead of pasta sheets.  It was filled with picada, which we finally learnt means “mince”, béchamel sauce and a ton of vegetables brought from the vegetable shop around the corner.  She also made a creamy carbonara pasta and garlic bread.  We ate outside and the rain came to help cool us down.  Our back patio does have a roof over it but the rain was bouncing up and wetting Juan’s feet.  I asked him several times if he wanted to move but he said it was fine.  Rosario was being dripped on through dinner and said she didn’t even notice.  This is only one of the ways we’ve noticed how people are very relaxed over here.

With a bit of Argentine influence, Talluah concocted apple empanadas.  The Castellano word for apple is manzana.  This dessert has been aptly named the manzanapanada.  Our guests brought along ice cream to help the sweet empanadas along. 

At the end of the night, Rosario checked her phone and found a string of Whatsapp messages from Alejo from earlier in the evening - Mama.  Mama.  Help me.  I’m locked in the toilet.  Mama.  Mama.

- Happy Birthday Marie.