Traveling Gals: Eating Traditional "Parridilla" in Caminito

Warning: this post may not be suitable for the weak stomachs of vegetarians. Just the last bit anyway.

The only way to get to Caminito in the La Boca barrio is by taxi. The only recommended (and safest) way. La Boca is very sketchy and not a place for Traveling Gals to get lost. Period. More about our evacuation plan later.

We arrived in the pedestrian only alleys of Caminito and thought, “Wow, this placed is a tourist mecca”. All we saw were sweaty tourists with cameras strapped around their necks and fists that clenched guide maps. Yikes. Just one glimpse and sound of tango dancing, however, we relaxed more. We had changed our minds. This was not a place to be missed. We immediately fell in love with the cobble-stoned streets, wood and corrugated tin houses with shaky balconies, brightly painted houses, and tango dancers at every turn.

As is our way, we hit the streets hard and explored every nook and cranny of this colorful neighborhood. We took a bagzillion pictures, of course, and managed to buy a very rad print/silkscreen of the neighborhood. We came across several tango dancers who wanted to dance with Anna (they could tell Christie has two left feet – needn’t bother), an old soccer club/playground, perros, cats, and accordion players.

This all exhausted us so we stopped at the historic “La Perla”, a 1920’s cantina, for a pick-me-up. The walls were covered with paintings and old black and white photographs and old colorful seltzer bottles adorned every table. Through the windows we watched the bustling Caminito neighborhood as locals and tourists strolled by.

Ready for the rest of our visit, we hit the streets again. We realized we were hungry and were lured by a local to stop at their parilla to eat traditional Argentine barbeque. “Visit our place and enjoy a traditional meal” peddled their flyer. Christie peered around the corned and was apprehensive. “It’s an alley with tons of BBQ smoke bellowing” she thought. Anna, the brave one, said “Let’s do it!”. So, on we went. Into the alley. We were pleasantly surprised by the dining oasis that awaited us; linens dressed the tables in a backyard courtyard, lots of customers, and a tango guitar-singer entertained the crowd. Our waiter’s name was Maxi and he helped us order the “parrillada”. All of this in our broken and very bad Espanol. Our order arrived on top of a portable, table-stop grill and smelled delicious. Pork, chicken, bife de chorizo (steak), ribs, sausage, entrails and pigs snout. We went for the familiar stuff first and after enjoying the chicken and pork, Christie chose this moment to be brave. Entrails, really??? She did and said she liked it but not enough to finish all of it. We decided “no” on the pigs snout. “I cannot eat a piggy’s nose”, Christie kept saying.

Time to leave Caminito and hail a cab. Our taxi driver must hail Mary all the time, given the religious icons all over his cab, including a very large sticker on the back windshield. He took us straight through the sketchiest parts of La Boca. We got a little nervous but only because it seems that all of the crime shows we watch start off with dead bodies getting discovered in areas like this. Christie whispered to Anna “what is our evacuation plan”? Anna could only reply “que?”