I woke up this morning with Mr. Choco and a glass of peach juice again, and spent most of the morning catching up on journal entries. After a quick lunch I worked on some Spanish and then thought it was about time to get back on the horse and go for a jog. My legs, and to be honest whole body, were still extremely soar, but past experience has told me that the only way to tackle the aches is to lace up and hit the pavement. I ended up having a great run, and got home just in time to hop in the shower before meeting Lily in town.
Tonight we were invited to my first asado in Chile. Asados are all day BBQ’s that commonly take place on the weekends, but this one was an abbreviated version. Lily’s friend Rodrigo, the host of the asado, picked us up at her office to drive us to his house. We met his American girlfriend Naomi who was visiting for a week all the way from Shanghai, China. She grew up in Tacoma, WA but has been living/working in China for the past couple of years.
At the house we were greeted by the rest of the Chilean crew, and I was immediately blown away by the views of Rodrigo’s back yard. A vast lawn and garden of hydrangeas ran of into a small drop off down to the shores of the lake. Staring straight at us was the snow-capped summit of Osorno with a deep rosé color from the setting sun. It was absolutely stunning.
We cracked open some beers and got the fire going with the local “volcano” technique that requires only charcoal and newspaper…no lighter fluid. Basically you take sheets of newspaper and roll them into rings before stacking the rings on top of each other until you get about 10 rings high. Then the rings are surrounded by the charcoal and a lit piece of newspaper is placed into the empty cylinder created by the rings. What ensues is a massive flame encouraged by the air flow out through the center of the ring. Basically you have make-shift chimney that lights the coals to cooking temp in no time. This technique came 2 hours too late as Lily and I had purchased lighter fluid for our small grill, because I couldn’t get the coals lit if my life depended on it. However, this technique is definitely coming back to the states with me.
A long night of drinking, socializing, and carnivorous indulgence was capped off by a massive steak that was slow roasted over the dying flame. When the roast was declared “cooked” large slices of meat were passed around. Now when I say the meat was rare, it is a vast understatement. This steak looked like it had just been carved off of a black angus cow out back. I was told Chileans only eat rare steaks, and, because they know Americans have a different taste when it comes to cooking steak, they had cooked this steak “medio” or medium for our benefit. My eyes bugged out of my head with the prospect of eating steak any less cooked than this. However, when I tell you meat has never tasted so good, picture a juicey porterhouse from Capital Grille and that is about 1/10 as good as what I has experienced tonight. I can definitely get used to these Chilean asados.
The night ended with light conversation and a dice game that I still don’t quite understand. Just as food coma started to set in Naomi emerged from the kitchen with piping hot chocolate chip cookies as a tribute to the American crowd at the asado. I think Lily and I are going to expose our Chilean friends to American drinking games like Beirut and flip cup. They are the type of crowd that would really enjoy it. I can just imagine the next asado, this time a full day affair, with solo cups and ping pong balls…immediately the M and Delphic come to mind.
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