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Don’t Cry for Me Argentina
by Geoffrey Clarfield (April 2010)
I am looking out across the Rio Plata, the widest river in the world. In the distance I can make out the shores of Uruguay, more than two hundred miles away. The river is light brown. I am told it is a shallow river with hardly a wave or ripple, as far as the eye can see. On weekends residents of Buenos Aires sail its waters for pleasure and return to their yacht clubs for their “asado,” the traditional Argentine barbeque where from modern Canadian standards, enormous amounts of beef are consumed by all assembled. It is a red meat eating nation where there are at least two cows for each of the country’s thirty million people. Vegetarians are few and far between. Not surprisingly, one of Argentina’s latest film successes is about the owner of a restaurant in Buenos Aires. (In Spanish the master of the barbeque is called an “asador” as the master of a bullfight is called a “matador” and there are entire books dedicated to the art.) more>>>