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Argentineans are sometimes accused by their Latin American neighbors of having an inflated sense of worth. But there is one thing the world can agree on: The best beef and tango are to be found in Argentina, and both are readily available in hot and steamy Buenos Aires.
In the cobblestoned squares downtown, professional dancers entertain crowds, swaying seductively to accordion music and then passing around a hat. As evening descends, the aroma of charcoal-grilled beef from food stands wafts over the tree-shaded promenade along the broad River Plate.
For some authentic Argentinean cuisine, I decide to check out La Raya, a restaurant located in upscale Palermo, a district of flowering parks and early-20th-century residences north of the city’s center. Owned for three generations by the same family, La Raya draws entertainers, soccer stars and locals alike. Like almost all Argentinean beef, the meat here comes from cattle that graze freely on the famed pampa grasslands rather than being fattened in feedlots and pumped with hormones and antibiotics. Because the meat reaches a table within 36 hours of slaughter, it’s chewier and more savory than the softer, aged beef commonly found in the U.S. and Europe. I begin my meal by nibbling on grilled riñones (kidney slivers) and chorizos before tucking into a bife de chorizo (sirloin strip steak). The availability of inexpensive quality beef is often blamed for a lack of culinary experimentation in Argentina, but the more successful purveyors of sophisticated gastronomy here all offer riffs on traditional Argentinean beef.
Like beef’s influence on the local cuisine, the power of tango over dance here is so overwhelming that the most successful Buenos Aires nightclubs never stray far from the classic mold. A typical tango evening begins close to midnight — the usual after-dinner schedule in this city — at spots like Villa Malcolm, a high-ceilinged, dimly lit establishment northwest of the city’s center. Villa Malcolm is known for nuevo tango, a new dance style grounded in the straight-back embrace of classic tango but notable for more-acrobatic steps, including high kicks by the woman and, to the dismay of purists, a willingness to use folk, rock and techno music.
Despite having taken lessons intermittently over several decades, I have failed to master the tango and am embarrassingly out of practice. But through friends, I am introduced to my guide on this visit, a 20-something professional dancer, Melisa Sacchi, who spends her days dancing for tourists on Florída, a busy downtown pedestrian street.
We end the evening at La Viruta, a cavernous dance hall housed in the Armenian Social Club in the Palermo district. The tango here is more traditional, with the man as the dominant partner: “El hombre conduce y la mujer luce” (the man leads and the woman shines). A tall, slim gentleman named Sin-ming Shaw asks Melisa to dance. The retired private investor from Hong Kong is so passionate about the tango that he spends months here immersed in private lessons during the day and visiting the clubs at night. As he leads Melisa through a classic figure-eight step across the crowded floor, I envy his grace, but in the end I know I’m not up for the commitment — and the endless late-night hours — it took him to get there.
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